Chelsea Howard2/13/08English CompReflect
Set Your Mind, Achieve All
Walking through the halls nervously, during the spring of my freshman year in high school, I had one thing on my mind—Varsity Softball. Every girl in the ninth grade wanted to be on Green Mountain Union High School’s Lady Chieftains. This was not the best team in the state however being a part of the team came with close friendships with the upper classmen. There was a meeting being held for all girls that were interested in playing softball. People were rushing through the auditorium doors to find a chair like a herd of animals, and people were talking anxiously to one another. As the coach and assistant coach entered the room, the chattering stopped, and everyone swarmed around the coaches like bees searching for honey. The coaches explained to us how the tryout process was going to work, much like an American Idol show. The meeting came to an end and my mind raced with the thought of running around the bases in front of the bleachers that are crowded like a Rolling Stones concert. It was as if my head lit up like a light bulb, I was going to make this team. After that meeting I was going to push myself beyond every personal limit to become a part of the Varsity softball team.
The first day of tryouts was being held the next day after the long tiring day of pointless classes and drama filled talks with my friends, near our green pea colored lockers. I went home that night and went to bed early so I would not be tired for my first day of tryouts. I woke up early the next morning, packed my sports bag that smelled like old feet and must. My mother cooked french toast and sausage the next morning so I did not have to force down the fake eggs and hash browns the school pretends is food. I was feeling great, the classes went by relatively quickly and it was time to run quickly down to the gym for tryouts.
As I entered the gymnasium, I was blinded by the bright yellow color of the gym and the florescent lights that shined vibrantly off the floor. Everyone was partnered up to throw the softball around, I had butterflies in my stomach whether I would have a partner or not. I walked slowly up to a girl and just before I opened my mouth to speak, I heard my name being called in a high pitched voice, it was the captain of the team and she wanted to be my partner. The coach came in a few minutes past 2:30 and that is when hell froze over in Chester, Vermont.
Every practice became more difficult, the amount of running, pushups and sit ups, doubled with each day of practice. With each day came the frequent thought that I would not make it to the next practice, the amount of dedication and exercise was bringing doubt about whether or not I really wanted to be on this team. Then I remembered the friendships I have made and the laughs that were shared after every practice, even the car rides to the softball field with the upper classmen made me want to continue.
The last practice of the tryout period came and I was more than nervous, throughout the day I was shaking with anticipation. The final day came with much more work and the key factor to get through this last hump was the ability to push myself further than I have before. The next two hours was going to be very difficult but I knew I could do it; I wanted to be on this team more than anything. The team ran a mile and a half together, my legs felt as if they were on fire and I could feel the blisters forming on the back of my heals. My sweat left small marks on my shirt and my sneakers were constantly coming untied. As we were running I felt like I was never going to be finished, it was the Boston Marathon in little Vermont. The pushups were causing my arms to weaken and felt them turn into rubber, but was relieved when I was finally done.. When the exercising was over, the room was overcome by a sign of relief and everyone was feeling exhausted and miserable. The pain did not end there, my partner dropped the ball while tossing it and we were both sent away to run more laps. I reached the point where I did not think my legs were being held down by cinder block but I was hit with the thought of the team I was soon going to be on.
The moment came at the end of practice, the moment of truth, whether I was going to make the Varsity team, if I was going to get one of the team jackets and be part of a bigger picture. My hands were sweating profusely and I could hear my heart beating like a drum jumping out of my chest. We all gathered around the coach, he congratulated all of us that have completed the tryouts and he was proud of each one of us. Then the moment came, he began to read off all the girls that made the team. He started with the 12th graders, moving down to the 11th graders and so on. The hesitation built gradually as he continued calling each name. Then stopped at the freshman, his blank stare lowered down to gaze at a paper that contained all of the Varsity players and he looked back up with an awkwardly sideways smirk on his face and said, “There are only two freshmen that I can bring on to this team and feel comfortable about playing.” That was it, my eyes began to water up as if a dam had just been let down, I was not making the team, my head fell and he called my name. I did not know what was going on, he called my name, my name. I was so excited that I was one of the two freshman picked. I quickly wiped my tears away and jumped up, screaming words that would only make sense to a caveman and I ran up to sit with the team that I would now be committing my life to, the girls that were chosen to play Varsity softball, and I was one of those girls that were envied by the girls that were walking away, upset and questioning what they could of done differently to make the team.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
My first job
Evan Wynn
2/17/08
My first Job
English
Professor Meek
Over the summer of my 8th grade year, going into the 9th grade my parents thought that I needed to get a job to be prepared for the world. I remember hearing that and thinking me, a job, have my parents really lost their minds, there is no way that I am ready for any type of job. I was also not trying to have my summer taken away from me because of a job. Summer is the time that I am supposed to be free and chill with my friends. I felt like the allure of summer was going away all because of a job that I didn’t even want to have.
After a while of me whining and complaining about how I am not ready for a job; which was just an excuse that I made up. I finally realized that I was going to be having a job this summer. When I first thought about what job my parents were talking about it was market basket or something. I quickly found out that my whole thought process of the situation was wrong. The job that my parents had in store for me was a hell of a lot more work than that.
My grandfather worked in the catering business, at a temple that was right outside of Boston. Sometimes he would have these huge events, and a lot of my family would go to the temple and help my grandfather with the catering services. That summer would be the first time that I would be helping my grandfather with the whole process.
I had only seen from a far what went on in the temple when a event was going on. I had no idea what was going to be expected from me. The only thing that I did know was that the job would be hard, because that is what my parents would talk about. Laziness would not be allowed at all on this type of job.
When I first should up on the job, which was in the early morning, things seemed to somewhat calm and there was not a lot of commotion going on. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, just getting ready for the work ahead of them. I had come to the temple prepared for a hustle environment so my whole focus was thrown off. I was almost scared of what was going to happen next.
As soon as nine o clock came around things changed. My grandfather came in the room and everyone knew that it was time for work. My first job was to set up all the tables and the chairs. I was like wow that will be easy to do, and then I saw how many tables and chairs there were, an also how big the room was. I thought that I would be spending the whole day trying to set up these tables. After what seemed forever I was finally done with setting up the chairs. I thought I might be getting a break, but I quickly realized that at this job there was no such thing as a break. I was right back into work as soon as I was done with the chairs.
The next part of my job was to set the tables that I just put up. Since we had over a hundred tables we had so much silverware that it was ridiculous. It wasn’t just the silverware either. It was the glasses, the napkins, and the centerpieces. Everything had to be in the right place to or I could get prepared to be yelled at. It took me a good minute to get used to where everything had to go, but once I got it down I moved at a pretty good pace. Once I was done with that it was almost time for the guest to start arriving.
Once the guest go there I thought I might get a break, but once again I was wrong. I had to make sure that everything was moving smoothly. If there was something little that needed to be done I was most likely the one who was going to be called. Even though this job was tough I was a real good experience for me. I would have never been able to see what a real tough job is. Plus the pay for the job is real good so that was a huge plus to it all.
2/17/08
My first Job
English
Professor Meek
Over the summer of my 8th grade year, going into the 9th grade my parents thought that I needed to get a job to be prepared for the world. I remember hearing that and thinking me, a job, have my parents really lost their minds, there is no way that I am ready for any type of job. I was also not trying to have my summer taken away from me because of a job. Summer is the time that I am supposed to be free and chill with my friends. I felt like the allure of summer was going away all because of a job that I didn’t even want to have.
After a while of me whining and complaining about how I am not ready for a job; which was just an excuse that I made up. I finally realized that I was going to be having a job this summer. When I first thought about what job my parents were talking about it was market basket or something. I quickly found out that my whole thought process of the situation was wrong. The job that my parents had in store for me was a hell of a lot more work than that.
My grandfather worked in the catering business, at a temple that was right outside of Boston. Sometimes he would have these huge events, and a lot of my family would go to the temple and help my grandfather with the catering services. That summer would be the first time that I would be helping my grandfather with the whole process.
I had only seen from a far what went on in the temple when a event was going on. I had no idea what was going to be expected from me. The only thing that I did know was that the job would be hard, because that is what my parents would talk about. Laziness would not be allowed at all on this type of job.
When I first should up on the job, which was in the early morning, things seemed to somewhat calm and there was not a lot of commotion going on. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, just getting ready for the work ahead of them. I had come to the temple prepared for a hustle environment so my whole focus was thrown off. I was almost scared of what was going to happen next.
As soon as nine o clock came around things changed. My grandfather came in the room and everyone knew that it was time for work. My first job was to set up all the tables and the chairs. I was like wow that will be easy to do, and then I saw how many tables and chairs there were, an also how big the room was. I thought that I would be spending the whole day trying to set up these tables. After what seemed forever I was finally done with setting up the chairs. I thought I might be getting a break, but I quickly realized that at this job there was no such thing as a break. I was right back into work as soon as I was done with the chairs.
The next part of my job was to set the tables that I just put up. Since we had over a hundred tables we had so much silverware that it was ridiculous. It wasn’t just the silverware either. It was the glasses, the napkins, and the centerpieces. Everything had to be in the right place to or I could get prepared to be yelled at. It took me a good minute to get used to where everything had to go, but once I got it down I moved at a pretty good pace. Once I was done with that it was almost time for the guest to start arriving.
Once the guest go there I thought I might get a break, but once again I was wrong. I had to make sure that everything was moving smoothly. If there was something little that needed to be done I was most likely the one who was going to be called. Even though this job was tough I was a real good experience for me. I would have never been able to see what a real tough job is. Plus the pay for the job is real good so that was a huge plus to it all.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Ouch
John Britt
When I hyper extended my ankle I felt pretty sad and disappointed. It was something I wanted to heal so badly though I knew it would not heal fast to wrestle again and I would have to learn patience. It was only my second year wrestling and I wasn’t nearly as skilled as the average wrestler. It was still something that I was very enthusiastic about and I was happy that I would get to hang out with my friends on the team. It seemed like something that would be a fun and challenging experience for me. I couldn’t wait to get started even though I knew it would be difficult.
Then it the whole thing came to a halt when I hurt my ankle. The night before I had stayed up all night watching the BCS championship game on television then came was late for the bus the next day and even missed breakfast. This caused me to be very tired when it came time to practice because I lacked the energy to properly perform the moves. My head felt as light as a balloon as went through the warm-up. I knew the rest of practice was going to stink. I pushed through the excises and drills as best I could and didn’t complain. I was glad that I had the opportunity to wrestle. As the practice dragged on I grow more and more tired. My body was burning and winded. When I had to pick an opponent to wrestle I ended up with Nate who had about 25 pounds on me and a couple of inches. Its not like I hadn’t wrestled bigger guys but trying to do so tired and dehydrated isn’t fun. He must have been feeling a lot like me since it wasn’t a very skilled or quick match. I don’t remember exactly how it happened except that he was on top and somehow sat on my ankle with my toes still planted in the ground. I immediately regretted not pulling my foot out sooner. The pain shot through my foot and I knew it wasn’t good. I then hobbled to the sideline and worried that it was over. Just coming back from a broken thumb then hurting my ankle soon after ruined something that I was excited about doing.
When I went to the Doctors office on that dark and muggy day I sat and waited anxiously to find out if I would be able to wrestle again though knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to. He came and confirmed that I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I asked if there was anything I could do to make a faster recovery but something’s you can’t rush they happen and they take time and patience to heal. There was nothing I could do except learn to be better prepared the next time.
When I hyper extended my ankle I felt pretty sad and disappointed. It was something I wanted to heal so badly though I knew it would not heal fast to wrestle again and I would have to learn patience. It was only my second year wrestling and I wasn’t nearly as skilled as the average wrestler. It was still something that I was very enthusiastic about and I was happy that I would get to hang out with my friends on the team. It seemed like something that would be a fun and challenging experience for me. I couldn’t wait to get started even though I knew it would be difficult.
Then it the whole thing came to a halt when I hurt my ankle. The night before I had stayed up all night watching the BCS championship game on television then came was late for the bus the next day and even missed breakfast. This caused me to be very tired when it came time to practice because I lacked the energy to properly perform the moves. My head felt as light as a balloon as went through the warm-up. I knew the rest of practice was going to stink. I pushed through the excises and drills as best I could and didn’t complain. I was glad that I had the opportunity to wrestle. As the practice dragged on I grow more and more tired. My body was burning and winded. When I had to pick an opponent to wrestle I ended up with Nate who had about 25 pounds on me and a couple of inches. Its not like I hadn’t wrestled bigger guys but trying to do so tired and dehydrated isn’t fun. He must have been feeling a lot like me since it wasn’t a very skilled or quick match. I don’t remember exactly how it happened except that he was on top and somehow sat on my ankle with my toes still planted in the ground. I immediately regretted not pulling my foot out sooner. The pain shot through my foot and I knew it wasn’t good. I then hobbled to the sideline and worried that it was over. Just coming back from a broken thumb then hurting my ankle soon after ruined something that I was excited about doing.
When I went to the Doctors office on that dark and muggy day I sat and waited anxiously to find out if I would be able to wrestle again though knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to. He came and confirmed that I wouldn’t be able to wrestle. I asked if there was anything I could do to make a faster recovery but something’s you can’t rush they happen and they take time and patience to heal. There was nothing I could do except learn to be better prepared the next time.
two superbowls, two outcomes
As I look back on the two biggest sports games during high school I realized many things similar and different between the two. I had been playing football ever since I could, fourth grade. All those years of youth football were to get me ready for the big high school games I would be able to play in once I got to that level. My junior year was that first chance. I had played center for my team, South Hadley Tigers. This year we could tell was special, and we developed a team with a deep core of talent, probably the most our town had ever seen, and one of the better teams in Western Mass. After a long season my team ended with a 8-2 season and winning our league. We earned a spot on that years D1-A super bowl against Central Mass. Team Milford. This was what we had been getting ready for since we were little. This years seniors and my class in particular were expected to be a great team for a while. But according to the critics we had gotten to the big game prematurely, and we were the underdogs. This was the biggest game any of us had ever played in. On the trip to Worcester State college, where the game was, the whole bus was quiet and in the zone. I remember watching Any Given Sunday on the tv’s on the bus to pump us up. It was pretty intense before the game. Before games both teams normally do their own drills and practice plays on their sides of the field. This part is funny, after our stretches and all our team went over to the other side and went over to the Milford players and shook all their hands and wished them luck. This was such a huge psych out. The best part was my buddy, Adam, bless his soul, was such a dork about it. He was jumping around screaming good luck and slapping the other teams butts. It was hilarious. So that managed to ease our mood. We never went into games too serious all season, we were pretty chill. That was a unique characteristic of ourselves. But now it was game time. There was so much adrenaline running in mine and everyone’s veins. You could see it our eyes. Even the kids who didn’t play were pumped. My junior year I shared time at center with a senior. And I had never been so pumped in my life. The first drive the stopped us real bad. Their first drive was looking bad for us. You could tell they were moving the ball rather easily. And our defense was very good. Probably the biggest play to happen in a game I played in happened in this drive. It was definitely the momentum turner. Milford had run a short pass up the middle, and the receiver broke free from our secondary and was speeding up the field, but not fast enough. Our senior cornerback, Kenny Minor sprinted up behind him and as he was going into the end zone, he stripped the ball loose, it was literally a yard before the end zone. And my classmate Doug Pawlishen, who actually goes to Westfield state too, recovered the ball. This was such a huge momentum turner. The game was all in our favor after this happened late in the first quarter. All game our defense played very well causing some huge turnovers, and Milford honestly crossed the 50 yard line like twice. I didn’t play that much in the game, since the other center was a senior, and no lie better than me in the game because of the defense they ran. It didn’t bug me at all though, whatever was better for the team. I recall the last 2 minutes of the game the longest ever in my life. We were winning 18-0 and had the game in the bag, it was just time in our way until we finally won. Once time stopped it was awesome. We had won the first Super bowl ever in our schools history, and in an underdog story. None of us had played so hard in our lives, I’m sure of it. We all felt we deserved the outcome.
The next year we went into the season with very high expectations of course. I no longer shared time at center, and was the starter and only senior on our offensive line. Much was expected of our backs, especially Doug. My quarterback, Matt Minor was also a senior. Despite losing many key players on our defense, we still had very strong defense with Andre leading the linebackers, Dan and Ryan leading the secondary, and our big man Anakin on the defensive line, all seniors. This season we didn’t let give anyone chances. And despite, I feel like, playing beneath our capabilities we finished the season 10-1. Our only loss to the D-1 champs Longmeadow, we only lost 15-14 and I’d rather not talk about that game. We had won our league and earned a spot in the D-1A super bowl again, as expected. What wasn’t expected was we were to play Milford again. This year they were even better. Many people could have argued they deserved to be in the D-1 super bowl. We were going into the game in a similar way as the year before. We were again big underdogs. And we were up for the challenge again. We were playing with a 12th man though this year. Over the past spring our close friend Adam Benoit passed away in a car accident on his way to CCD. He would been my senior right guard, next to me. This game was going to be for him, as was every other game we played during the season. I remember seeing his little brother Joe’s eyes before the game, he was one of our junior speedy four backs and d-backs. It was deep seeing him, all of us. Getting ready for the game this year was even more intense. The game was also much closer to home, at Holyoke high school. The morning before the game we all went to the Friendly’s in town for breakfast, and then visited Adam’s grave. There was much emotion going into this game. In the locker room we were all very serious, unlike last year as we were very chill about it. It was game time though, once we put on our eye black. I had put mine on like a seven under both eyes as I did all season, signifying 77, Adam’s number when he played with us, I was 76. We went through our drills and plays, I hurt my D coach practicing plays because of my adrenaline, I thought that was funny. I straight up knocked him on his ass. We were rockin our black on black jerseys. Again, as last year, we went over and shook eveyones hands wishing luck. But now, it was time, our time four my senior class, we had tasted victory last year, now we wanted it for ourselves. I had never hit so hard ever as I did in that first play of ours on offense. We managed to drive up the field to the redzone, but we just couldn’t commit when we got close. Unfortunately, that was the story all game. Our athleticism was no match for their size and power at this point after having driven down the field on them by this point. It was only 10-0 at half time, a manageable game. Half time was not fun for our offensive line, we were getting drilled at for not committing our assignments correctly and thoroughly in the red zone, when it matters. It was like it was our fault. It wasn’t a good feeling, I mean we all were trying as hard as we could. In the second half, it was more of the same. Getting close and not finishing. They would bring to much pressure on our left side, and obvious week spot on our o- line. They cluttered the middle too, which was our strong point, with me and our guards, making it harder to establish a running game, since most of out runs were up the middle with Doug. More of the same left the game out of our reach though. And despite trying as hard as we could, we lost. 21-0. It was probably the worst feeling ever. We had put so much into the season to win again, and for Adam. I learned about the feelings of victory and loss in the big games. There really is nothing like winning it all. But to lose, damn, its like the whole season was put to waste. Even though we lost though, we had many achievements that year. My back, Doug, had rushed for 2,000 plus yards that year running behind me and my guards which is a great feeling leading your back that way. People in town would let me and others know how fun we were to watch all season. But I can now only imagine what it would have been like to win it all, again, for Adam.
The next year we went into the season with very high expectations of course. I no longer shared time at center, and was the starter and only senior on our offensive line. Much was expected of our backs, especially Doug. My quarterback, Matt Minor was also a senior. Despite losing many key players on our defense, we still had very strong defense with Andre leading the linebackers, Dan and Ryan leading the secondary, and our big man Anakin on the defensive line, all seniors. This season we didn’t let give anyone chances. And despite, I feel like, playing beneath our capabilities we finished the season 10-1. Our only loss to the D-1 champs Longmeadow, we only lost 15-14 and I’d rather not talk about that game. We had won our league and earned a spot in the D-1A super bowl again, as expected. What wasn’t expected was we were to play Milford again. This year they were even better. Many people could have argued they deserved to be in the D-1 super bowl. We were going into the game in a similar way as the year before. We were again big underdogs. And we were up for the challenge again. We were playing with a 12th man though this year. Over the past spring our close friend Adam Benoit passed away in a car accident on his way to CCD. He would been my senior right guard, next to me. This game was going to be for him, as was every other game we played during the season. I remember seeing his little brother Joe’s eyes before the game, he was one of our junior speedy four backs and d-backs. It was deep seeing him, all of us. Getting ready for the game this year was even more intense. The game was also much closer to home, at Holyoke high school. The morning before the game we all went to the Friendly’s in town for breakfast, and then visited Adam’s grave. There was much emotion going into this game. In the locker room we were all very serious, unlike last year as we were very chill about it. It was game time though, once we put on our eye black. I had put mine on like a seven under both eyes as I did all season, signifying 77, Adam’s number when he played with us, I was 76. We went through our drills and plays, I hurt my D coach practicing plays because of my adrenaline, I thought that was funny. I straight up knocked him on his ass. We were rockin our black on black jerseys. Again, as last year, we went over and shook eveyones hands wishing luck. But now, it was time, our time four my senior class, we had tasted victory last year, now we wanted it for ourselves. I had never hit so hard ever as I did in that first play of ours on offense. We managed to drive up the field to the redzone, but we just couldn’t commit when we got close. Unfortunately, that was the story all game. Our athleticism was no match for their size and power at this point after having driven down the field on them by this point. It was only 10-0 at half time, a manageable game. Half time was not fun for our offensive line, we were getting drilled at for not committing our assignments correctly and thoroughly in the red zone, when it matters. It was like it was our fault. It wasn’t a good feeling, I mean we all were trying as hard as we could. In the second half, it was more of the same. Getting close and not finishing. They would bring to much pressure on our left side, and obvious week spot on our o- line. They cluttered the middle too, which was our strong point, with me and our guards, making it harder to establish a running game, since most of out runs were up the middle with Doug. More of the same left the game out of our reach though. And despite trying as hard as we could, we lost. 21-0. It was probably the worst feeling ever. We had put so much into the season to win again, and for Adam. I learned about the feelings of victory and loss in the big games. There really is nothing like winning it all. But to lose, damn, its like the whole season was put to waste. Even though we lost though, we had many achievements that year. My back, Doug, had rushed for 2,000 plus yards that year running behind me and my guards which is a great feeling leading your back that way. People in town would let me and others know how fun we were to watch all season. But I can now only imagine what it would have been like to win it all, again, for Adam.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Set your mine, Achieve all
The spring of my freshman year I only had one thing on my mind, Varsity softball. Every girl in the ninth grade wanted to be on Green Mountain Union High School’s Lady Chieftains. They were not the best team in the state but the amount of friendships and bonding with the upper classmen was on the mind of every girl. There was a meeting held for everyone that was interested in playing softball, people were entering the auditorium like a herd of animals and people were talking nervously to one another. As the coach and assistant coach entered the room the talked stopped the moment they were visible. They explained to the group how the tryout process was going to work, much like an American Idol show. As the meeting ended all I could think about was getting on the team and being one of the athletes that all the freshman girls envied.
After that meeting I was going to do anything and everything to get on to the Varsity softball team. I went home that night and went to bed early so I would not be tired for my first day of softball tryouts. I woke up early that morning, packed up my sports bag and ate a home cooked meal to I did not have to eat the school breakfast that always made you feeling gross after. I was feeling great, the classes went by relatively quickly and it was time to go to tryouts. As I entered the gymnasium everyone was getting partnered up to throw the ball around, I was nervous if I would have a partner. As I was about to ask someone to be my partner the captain of the team asked if I would be her partner, and I was ecstatic. The coach came in a few minutes past 2:30 and that is when hell came to Chester, Vermont.
Every practice became harder and harder. The amount of running, the pushups and sit ups, all of these doubled each day. With each day came the frequent thought that I would not make it to the next practice, the amount of dedication and exercise was bringing doubt about whether or not I really wanted to be on this team. Then I looked at the friendships I have made and the laughs that we shared after every practice, even the car rides to the softball field with the upper classmen made me want to stay.
The last practice of the tryout period came and I was more than nervous, the final day came with much more work and the key factor to get through this last hump was the ability to push myself further than I have before. The next two hours was going to be very difficult but I knew I could do it; I wanted to be on this team more than anything. It started off by running a mile and a half something I have probably never done before in my life and would probably never do again. As we were running I felt like I was never going to be finished, it was the Boston Marathon in little old Vermont. The pushups were turning my arms into spaghetti but I was more than excited when I completed them. The sit ups came easy and that completed the daily exercise part of the practice.
The moment came at the end of practice, the moment of truth, whether I was going to make the Varsity team, if I was going to get one of the team jackets and be part of a bigger picture. We all gathered around the coach, he congratulated all of us that have completed the tryouts and he was proud of each one of us. Then the moment came, he began to read off all the girls that made the team. He started with the 12th graders, moving down to the 11th graders and so on. The hesitation built gradually as he went down to the next game. Then stopped at the freshman, he looked down at his little piece of paper that contained all of the Varsity players and he looked back up and said, “There are only two freshmen that I can bring on to this team and feel comfortable about playing.” That was it, I was not making the team, my head fell and he called my name. I did not know what was going on, he called my name, my name. I was so excited that I was one of the two freshman picked. That was when I knew that if I wanted something all I had to do was dedicate myself to it and I will achieve my goal.
After that meeting I was going to do anything and everything to get on to the Varsity softball team. I went home that night and went to bed early so I would not be tired for my first day of softball tryouts. I woke up early that morning, packed up my sports bag and ate a home cooked meal to I did not have to eat the school breakfast that always made you feeling gross after. I was feeling great, the classes went by relatively quickly and it was time to go to tryouts. As I entered the gymnasium everyone was getting partnered up to throw the ball around, I was nervous if I would have a partner. As I was about to ask someone to be my partner the captain of the team asked if I would be her partner, and I was ecstatic. The coach came in a few minutes past 2:30 and that is when hell came to Chester, Vermont.
Every practice became harder and harder. The amount of running, the pushups and sit ups, all of these doubled each day. With each day came the frequent thought that I would not make it to the next practice, the amount of dedication and exercise was bringing doubt about whether or not I really wanted to be on this team. Then I looked at the friendships I have made and the laughs that we shared after every practice, even the car rides to the softball field with the upper classmen made me want to stay.
The last practice of the tryout period came and I was more than nervous, the final day came with much more work and the key factor to get through this last hump was the ability to push myself further than I have before. The next two hours was going to be very difficult but I knew I could do it; I wanted to be on this team more than anything. It started off by running a mile and a half something I have probably never done before in my life and would probably never do again. As we were running I felt like I was never going to be finished, it was the Boston Marathon in little old Vermont. The pushups were turning my arms into spaghetti but I was more than excited when I completed them. The sit ups came easy and that completed the daily exercise part of the practice.
The moment came at the end of practice, the moment of truth, whether I was going to make the Varsity team, if I was going to get one of the team jackets and be part of a bigger picture. We all gathered around the coach, he congratulated all of us that have completed the tryouts and he was proud of each one of us. Then the moment came, he began to read off all the girls that made the team. He started with the 12th graders, moving down to the 11th graders and so on. The hesitation built gradually as he went down to the next game. Then stopped at the freshman, he looked down at his little piece of paper that contained all of the Varsity players and he looked back up and said, “There are only two freshmen that I can bring on to this team and feel comfortable about playing.” That was it, I was not making the team, my head fell and he called my name. I did not know what was going on, he called my name, my name. I was so excited that I was one of the two freshman picked. That was when I knew that if I wanted something all I had to do was dedicate myself to it and I will achieve my goal.
paperrr
As I go through my scrapbook I notice many things. This scrapbook was an assignment my AP psych teacher gave to us for our final grade my senior year. She gave us some guidelines, gave us some topics for essays that had to be written, and told us to be creative with it. Off we were, on our own to make these scrapbooks, to reflect on our lives, to foresee our futures. I covered many topics; they varied from my childhood to my future goals to pictures of any and everything to probably the most influential and important part of my life: cross country running.
As I sat in my eighth grade health class Mr. Penna-Ward (who would later become more than a teacher to me) began to show us a short movie, consisting of video clips and pictures of this so called sport called cross country running. As I watched this movie I thought to myself “running? A sport? Wow I learn something new everyday”. After the movie Mr. Penna-Ward handed out a sign up sheet for people who were interested in the sport and would like to get a call during the summer for when they enter high school. I thought “what the heck, it kind of looked like fun, everybody was just hanging out, and I’ll just sign up it can’t hurt, plus I’m already playing travel soccer and I don’t really want to play soccer in high school too”. So I signed up and my freshman year captain, Lauren, called me over the summer to attend captain practices. I attended captain practices along with regular practices. My coach, Coach Barber, would have me run with the other freshmen and the slower group. I trained and trained and ran and ran preparing for our first race. Race day finally came and I didn’t know what to expect or what to do I just planned on running. Our first race was held at Mount Greylock. These girls were known in our county as being undefeatable although I didn’t know it at the time. The time came for the race to start and I didn’t know how fast to start, who to run with, anything I was pretty clueless. The race ended and I didn’t bother looking at results like everyone else I just basically figured I am a freshman it’s not going to matter. I found out later I came in 15th out of close to a hundred girls. I got my name in the paper and got my Taconic Cross Country Top Five 2003 shirt, for placing in the top five of my team. My whole freshman year I kept on being naïve not really knowing that I wasn’t actually that bad at running. I kept hearing talk of a letter even though I had no idea what that was. I was actually planning on playing soccer for my school my sophomore year. So I kept racing and I kept coming in the top twenty of every race. I managed to keep Becky (my other captain, Lauren was completely out of sight) in sight and switched on and off with my place with Colette (a girl two grades ahead of me). Finally the Berkshire County Individuals race came around and I was part of the varsity team. It was a fast race and I was competing with some of the best in the county. The top fifteen got medals and got called up by their names in front of everyone. Although I did not get in the top fifteen I got nineteenth place and that was good enough for me. I also made the varsity team that would be competing at Western Mass. My freshman season of cross country exceeded my expectations of the sport. In the end I found out what lettering meant.
My sophomore season of cross country I ran. I did not end up playing soccer. I never really regretted this decision because cross country taught me a lot and I also got a lot of attention and recognition that I would not have received from playing soccer. My sophomore year I came back more competitive. I only fell in the top twenty once or twice. Most of my races were in the top ten. I remember this one race. It was held at Hoosuc Valley. Throughout the whole race I was pretty much neck and neck with this one girl. We kept switching on and off with a lead through the whole race. As we were coming to the end she was still in front of me. Out of nowhere I came from behind her passed her and blew her away as I heard her say “nooooo!” as I had just beat her. Once again I earned my letter this season. My school and Greylock were pretty much even towards the end of the season. We beat them once and they beat us at individuals. We were the first team to be co county champs with Mount Greylock. The only difference with this individuals was that the top twenty got medals and called up. This season I got seventeenth place and earned my medal along with qualifying for Western Mass.
It was my junior season when things started to take a turn. Over the summer I ran a lot I trained with guys so I would be faster. The season started out better than my freshman year and better than my sophomore year. I was even more competitive and I was ready to rock the girls in Berkshire County. No problem. So I thought. All I had to do was place at least in the top five of every race. I was doing a pretty good job at it too. My most memorable race was held at a campground almost an hour away from my school. It was against the dreaded Greylock. I was more prepared for this race than my very first one or any other. I ate right all day, I hydrated, I got a good night sleep, I warmed up, I had spikes, and I was mentally prepared. I was ready to go. I started this race out with maybe a girl or two ahead of me. The problem came when I entered the woods loop and twisted my ankle on a rock going down. I started limping but kept running as I watched some girls run past me. Finally after one I decided I wasn’t going to take it and blocked out the pain. I picked myself up and found myself head to head at it with about 4 greylock girls on my butt in the very end of my race. One passed, I couldn’t run any faster. The next one I saw out of the corner of my eye and like a switch I was out, beat every one of them and came in sixth place. I wish I could say that race was the only negative part of the season but it wasn’t. I slowly started getting worse and I couldn’t understand why. I had this pain in my leg but chose to throw some tiger balm on it and call it a day. After I blew my race at individuals I decided to see a doctor before Western Mass. I started to cry as he told me I had a stress fracture in my left femur and I could not compete. I still got my varsity letter that season and did not run for the next 3 months after that.
My senior season had to probably be the hardest for me. I was captain and you bet I lived up to it. I did not miss a practice once. I held all of the captains practices. All summer I ran about at least an hour a day. I trained, I raced, I timed myself, and I conquered my weakness, hills. With all this running I thought I would go back into the season and pick up where I left off only better. I was dead wrong. I picked up from where I blew my race away at individuals. I could not recover from that stress fracture. I could not bounce back. The only race I really ran was my last race at Taconic. It was painful and humiliating. I can’t think of a worse feeling than knowing what you could be and were. It’s an awful feeling having nobody know your name anymore and seeing others that you beat before doing what you could once do. I did not letter this season. I did not compete at Western Mass. I was a nobody.
As I look at this scrapbook I can reflect on many things. I see not only my many accomplishments but my failures as well. I am the person I am today because of cross country. It introduced me to many new people and experiences. I learned who I was through this sport. I am not only a student, a friend, a daughter, an employee. I am now a runner, an athlete.
As I sat in my eighth grade health class Mr. Penna-Ward (who would later become more than a teacher to me) began to show us a short movie, consisting of video clips and pictures of this so called sport called cross country running. As I watched this movie I thought to myself “running? A sport? Wow I learn something new everyday”. After the movie Mr. Penna-Ward handed out a sign up sheet for people who were interested in the sport and would like to get a call during the summer for when they enter high school. I thought “what the heck, it kind of looked like fun, everybody was just hanging out, and I’ll just sign up it can’t hurt, plus I’m already playing travel soccer and I don’t really want to play soccer in high school too”. So I signed up and my freshman year captain, Lauren, called me over the summer to attend captain practices. I attended captain practices along with regular practices. My coach, Coach Barber, would have me run with the other freshmen and the slower group. I trained and trained and ran and ran preparing for our first race. Race day finally came and I didn’t know what to expect or what to do I just planned on running. Our first race was held at Mount Greylock. These girls were known in our county as being undefeatable although I didn’t know it at the time. The time came for the race to start and I didn’t know how fast to start, who to run with, anything I was pretty clueless. The race ended and I didn’t bother looking at results like everyone else I just basically figured I am a freshman it’s not going to matter. I found out later I came in 15th out of close to a hundred girls. I got my name in the paper and got my Taconic Cross Country Top Five 2003 shirt, for placing in the top five of my team. My whole freshman year I kept on being naïve not really knowing that I wasn’t actually that bad at running. I kept hearing talk of a letter even though I had no idea what that was. I was actually planning on playing soccer for my school my sophomore year. So I kept racing and I kept coming in the top twenty of every race. I managed to keep Becky (my other captain, Lauren was completely out of sight) in sight and switched on and off with my place with Colette (a girl two grades ahead of me). Finally the Berkshire County Individuals race came around and I was part of the varsity team. It was a fast race and I was competing with some of the best in the county. The top fifteen got medals and got called up by their names in front of everyone. Although I did not get in the top fifteen I got nineteenth place and that was good enough for me. I also made the varsity team that would be competing at Western Mass. My freshman season of cross country exceeded my expectations of the sport. In the end I found out what lettering meant.
My sophomore season of cross country I ran. I did not end up playing soccer. I never really regretted this decision because cross country taught me a lot and I also got a lot of attention and recognition that I would not have received from playing soccer. My sophomore year I came back more competitive. I only fell in the top twenty once or twice. Most of my races were in the top ten. I remember this one race. It was held at Hoosuc Valley. Throughout the whole race I was pretty much neck and neck with this one girl. We kept switching on and off with a lead through the whole race. As we were coming to the end she was still in front of me. Out of nowhere I came from behind her passed her and blew her away as I heard her say “nooooo!” as I had just beat her. Once again I earned my letter this season. My school and Greylock were pretty much even towards the end of the season. We beat them once and they beat us at individuals. We were the first team to be co county champs with Mount Greylock. The only difference with this individuals was that the top twenty got medals and called up. This season I got seventeenth place and earned my medal along with qualifying for Western Mass.
It was my junior season when things started to take a turn. Over the summer I ran a lot I trained with guys so I would be faster. The season started out better than my freshman year and better than my sophomore year. I was even more competitive and I was ready to rock the girls in Berkshire County. No problem. So I thought. All I had to do was place at least in the top five of every race. I was doing a pretty good job at it too. My most memorable race was held at a campground almost an hour away from my school. It was against the dreaded Greylock. I was more prepared for this race than my very first one or any other. I ate right all day, I hydrated, I got a good night sleep, I warmed up, I had spikes, and I was mentally prepared. I was ready to go. I started this race out with maybe a girl or two ahead of me. The problem came when I entered the woods loop and twisted my ankle on a rock going down. I started limping but kept running as I watched some girls run past me. Finally after one I decided I wasn’t going to take it and blocked out the pain. I picked myself up and found myself head to head at it with about 4 greylock girls on my butt in the very end of my race. One passed, I couldn’t run any faster. The next one I saw out of the corner of my eye and like a switch I was out, beat every one of them and came in sixth place. I wish I could say that race was the only negative part of the season but it wasn’t. I slowly started getting worse and I couldn’t understand why. I had this pain in my leg but chose to throw some tiger balm on it and call it a day. After I blew my race at individuals I decided to see a doctor before Western Mass. I started to cry as he told me I had a stress fracture in my left femur and I could not compete. I still got my varsity letter that season and did not run for the next 3 months after that.
My senior season had to probably be the hardest for me. I was captain and you bet I lived up to it. I did not miss a practice once. I held all of the captains practices. All summer I ran about at least an hour a day. I trained, I raced, I timed myself, and I conquered my weakness, hills. With all this running I thought I would go back into the season and pick up where I left off only better. I was dead wrong. I picked up from where I blew my race away at individuals. I could not recover from that stress fracture. I could not bounce back. The only race I really ran was my last race at Taconic. It was painful and humiliating. I can’t think of a worse feeling than knowing what you could be and were. It’s an awful feeling having nobody know your name anymore and seeing others that you beat before doing what you could once do. I did not letter this season. I did not compete at Western Mass. I was a nobody.
As I look at this scrapbook I can reflect on many things. I see not only my many accomplishments but my failures as well. I am the person I am today because of cross country. It introduced me to many new people and experiences. I learned who I was through this sport. I am not only a student, a friend, a daughter, an employee. I am now a runner, an athlete.
Float like a butterfly, Sting like a bee
Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee
There comes a time in every person’s life when they are put in a situation in which someone or something pushes them to their limits. In many ways, it can be the defining moment in one’s life. The way they react, how they control themselves, the actions that they perform as a result of this problem, and how they can persevere through the hardship are all characteristics of a person’s individuality. Everyone has someone that has brushed them the wrong way or went against the grain of their personal lifestyle. The way a person reacts to these kinds of people determines how they are perceived by the rest of society. This was never more apparent to me then after a physical altercation with a school bully in my senior year of high school.
Brian Geising: this name still makes my skin tingle and my hair stand up on the back of my neck. When the thought of him crosses my mind I feel my blood start to boil and I feel the veins in my arms begin to rise from my skin like mole tracks in a yard. This kind of hatred is a flaw that I am not proud of, but in many ways it would be almost not enough for the things he has done to the people I care deeply about. I was never a very violent person throughout my entire life. I always had that peaceful easy feeling that many people like to say they have. This all changed in a quick five minute class change in a crowded high school hallway.
With an early morning groggy feeling that one has after staying up all night, followed by a breakfast of a pop tart and a High C, I arrived at my locker. I felt like this morning was no different than any other; I was tired, hungry, homework was not done, the usual. I was half asleep with my head on the shelf of my locker when my girlfriend Jill came up to me with news that sent a shot of adrenaline through my body that 50 Red bulls couldn’t replicate. Like a punch to my face, what she said shocked me: “This kid has been following me around the hallways calling me a stupid Jew.” My body felt weightless for a few seconds as I let what she said sink in. At his point I was ready to find this kid and hit him so hard that when he woke back up I would have already graduated high school. My girlfriend, sensing that I was minutes away from a nice three days out of school due to suspension, persuaded me to keep my cool. She reassured me that the guidance office would take care of it and I wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. With this, I decided she was right, so I let it go and just tried to forget about it. I assumed that guidance would take care of the situation, but I assumed wrong.
A week or so went by before the next incident. Another long night, another half-asleep encounter with my girlfriend at my locker, and another report of some kid following her around and whispering “Jew, Jew, Jew” behind her back. There was nothing she could do to calm me down this time. I was on a warpath and looking for some kid who better be able to run his legs faster than his mouth if he wanted to smile normally again. The hallways were crowded so I bobbed and weaved through the students looking for my target. When I finally saw him I locked on like a missile. Every step I took closer to him my adrenaline increased. The final step allowed full eye contact; we were face to face. The look of arrogance on his face infuriated me more than ever and the only thought crossing my mind was to rock this kid’s world with a flurry of punches to his cranium. I could feel my body begin to tense as if I had been electrocuted. He mumbled “What do you want?” There were a million answers I could have replied with… “To stomp your face into the tile floor” or “I am here to make sure the EMT’s have business today” but all that came out of my mouth was “Please stop harassing my girlfriend”. He looked directly into my face and laughed. The whole time he was laughing all I could do was think of how badly I could hurt him. “I asked you once nicely, next time I have to ask it won’t be so generous” came out of my mouth like a scene from a mobster movie. I turned around without saying another word and walked away.
A few days passed and I figured that Brian learned his lesson and stopped making comments about my girlfriend. I felt triumphant knowing that the warning I gave him worked. In a small way, I felt like I had protected my girlfriend from something that she was too afraid to stop herself. This feeling had never fully hit me until this moment; the feeling of being able to protect someone else besides yourself is a rush of power. However, this amazing feeling of superiority was cut drastically short.
I was in the middle of an intense dodge ball game in which a lucky boy named Mike Chamberline was the primary target. The harder you could throw the ball at him the more “chamber points” you received. I was leading this challenge against the rest of the “gym class heroes” when a good friend of mine entered the gym. I knew something was wrong as soon as I saw him. My stomach sunk and I felt sick. I knew what he was here for and I did not want this to be the way it had to happen. “Brian just walked by me and said “Tell your Jew loving friend I am going to kick his ass.” I felt my anger snap like a board under way too much pressure. Two very important things crossed my mind at this moment. The first was “I hope my girlfriend doesn’t get mad I am about break my promise about hitting this kid.” The second was “Should I break his nose, or knock out his front teeth, or both?”
Before I realized what was going on I was already in one of the long hallway corridors moving at almost a run looking for Brian Geising, the soon to be vegetable who had his brain knocked loose from his spine. The rage was building now, with the added frustration of not being able to find him. I was popping my head in an out of rooms like a whack-a-mole game. I turned the corner of the last hallway and my eyes found the target I had been so desperately searching for. My emotions were mixed now. I had a strong feeling of rage, and an almost equal feeling of joy. Brian was picking on a kid and pushing him against a locker, so when I collapsed his nasal cavity this bullied kid would look at me like a hero. I began to pick up my pace and I started to get much closer. I began to realize that every step I took towards him was one less he had to get away. All of a sudden I felt like I got hit with a cheap shot. The kid that was being bullied was my younger brother. I went into a sprint that was so fast that I would have taken home a Gold at the Olympics. When I got to my brother I peeled Brian off him and tossed him across the hallway headfirst into a locker. Time felt as if it stopped and my body felt completely weightless.
The moment he stood up my nose was already in his face. “Now’s the time to do something you waste of life” slid off my tongue like the perfect climatic line of an action movie. He looked me dead in the eyes and I could feel the anger rising. I began to feel my skin stretch tight over my fists as they clenched up. He turned around and pretended as if he was going to walk away so I grabbed his shoulder to spin him back around to face me. When he spun around he tilted his head back and spit all over my face. I felt the warm wet spit splatter onto my face. In most cases, water will put out a fire, but instead, when this spit hit my face it started one in my body. Before he had enough time to do anything else my arm pulled back behind my body and propelled towards his face like a cannonball. My fist connected right above his right eye, on his forehead. I felt the knuckles crunch in my hand, knowing instantly that I had just broken my hand. Although I felt my knuckles break, I heard his skull crack. The shot heard ‘round the school is what it was called from the moment on. The hit put Brian into the air and across the hallway. He hit the floor like a ragdoll and was completely unconscious. Students and teachers came running out of their classes to see what had just happened. I could have kept hitting him but I just walked away casually towards the office knowing that a 3 day vacation was about to be rewarded to me for this act of great valor and bravery, though it was often not viewed that way.
I explained to the principal what had happened and he understood why I hit Brian. He was very understanding and told me he wished he didn’t have to suspend me but it was school policy. I told him I understood and accepted the penalty. Over the next few days I did a lot of thinking. I came to realize that what I did was not right, but it was not wrong either. I realized that when someone is pushed to their limits, they can only keep calm for so long. I don’t believe violence is ever the right thing to use to solve a problem, but in this case it was the only thing that would work. Many people commended me for hitting him, including teachers and parents of students. They told me that he has been bullying their kids and now that someone bullied him that maybe he will stop. The moral of my story is that when you are pushed to your limits, how you handle yourself is the most defining characteristic of your personality. I believe that sticking up for all the people that were to afraid to themselves, including my brother and girlfriend, was the right thing to do. When the time comes in your life that you are forced into a decision that affects more people than just yourself, sometimes the choice you make can influence how you are remembered.
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