Rematch | Teen Ink

Rematch

March 22, 2009
By Josh Meyer BRONZE, Fallbrook, California
Josh Meyer BRONZE, Fallbrook, California
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

My hands are sweaty from anticipation. The only thoughts that have been running through my mind for the past three days have all revolved around this game. This is the day that we pay back our cross-town rivals for all of the heartache that they’ve caused us over the passed month.

It is January 22, 2009. We are scheduled to play Calvary Chapel Murrieta, who have beaten us the past three times we’ve played. It is a cold and stormy night, which I see as necessary weather for this occasion. We are true enemies. No player on either team can look into the eyes of an opposing player without feeling a sense of remorse. My team and I huddle together for warmth as we are about to step out of the cold locker room and into the roaring, warm gym. The referee glances over to us and gives us the signal to head out onto the court. The players are ready. We glance at each other nervously, and step into the spotlight in front of our fellow peers and fans.

We jog around the court twice and start to scout the opposing team. We remember them from our previous encounter. They are tall, ghoulish players who portray the image of a bunch of tough thugs. However, we know differently. The only reason that we lost the last time we played them was due to the fact that the referee was related to an opposing player. However, new and unbiased referees are here to officiate this game. We are ready for an entirely different outcome.

We start to do layups as a team while our two team captains walk to center court. We are ready for revenge. I can see it in everyone’s eyes. Even the home crowd looks fired up. We approach our bench as the first buzzer rings. We are anxious, but are all ready to wage war. We take off our warm-up jerseys and sit on the bench as our coach starts his pregame speech. We are all so pumped up that we can’t concentrate on what our coach is saying.

My knees start to shake as the announcer reads off the starting lineups. He calls everyone’s name except for my own, which he leaves for last. I can hear the crowd start to cheer my name from the stands behind me. As the announcer finally says it, I run down the sidelines to shake the opposing coaches hand, feeling that the tide has finally turned and we will bring home a victory tonight…


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