I gripped the ball as my teeth clenched. I tossed the ball up into the air and felt the thump as the tennis ball clanged into my racquet. My eyes watched the ball as it soared over the court and slammed into the net. “Darn it, I really need this point!” I whispered to myself while my thoughts went on racing about this next serve. I ball slipped out of my fingers as it went into the sky. I followed the familiar pattern of moving the racquet towards the ball. Bam! I hit the ball and it flew over the net and landed in the corner of the box. Ace!

“Yes!” I screamed out as I charged towards the net. My sweaty hands shook with Jack Johnson’s as we congratulated each other with a good game. His disappointed face slowly dropped to the floor as he walked off. I decided to stay for a few more seconds to recollect of how I just beat Jack Johnson. I finally walked off and my feet stepped through the doorway as my coach, Charles, congratulated me. Then he cheered, “Congratulations Pierce, Winner of the boys fourteen and under tournament. Suddenly I heard a clap and I was back in reality.

I’m back in my Spanish class listening to another vocabulary session. I really don’t like Spanish so I start thinking about that tennis tournament. It has been 4 weeks since that last tournament but my heart still leaps every time I think of that night. After that night I have been practicing and practicing to get better so that I could win that tournament again. If I hadn’t had won that tournament I probably wouldn’t still be trying to win those tournaments. However, now I know that if I keep practicing I can win it again. This was at Trumbull Racquet Club where I play for my team. The kid I played, Jack Johnson, is on the advanced team while I am on the intermediate team. This night gave me hope of moving up to the 14 and under advanced team. I’m still in Spanish class when I hear the bell ring. Suddenly, I’m back on the tennis court in a familiar scenario. I gripped the tennis ball and tossed it into the air again. My mind was still figuring out what was happening when my racquet slammed into the ball again. A voice boomed over the microphone, “Ace by Pierce Halsted, now the winner of the 2017 U.S. Open!” If it wasn’t for that tournament, I might’ve given up.