A Descriptive Essay: The Game Of Soccer

I remember the speech he gave as we were all gathered around him on the sideline. He said, “Don’t let up because you are ahead. The game’s not over and anything can happen.” Those words stayed on my mind as we started the second half. I always feel like I have something to prove when I play soccer.

We finished the game off with a win. The whole time while playing I wondered why I had stopped working hard a while ago. I guess when it came down to it, I just shied away from the competition and let Alex easily take that spot on the court. However, I was not going to make that mistake again.

Whenever my mom has company at her house, guests always ask about the plaque that hangs in the living room on the wall. It reads Championship Mvp, 14-0 season, Jonesboro Wildcats. My mom always smiles and says, “Ask Markus about it.” I don’t mind telling people about the championship game. It is after all one of my fondest memories playing sports.

I ran as fast as I can to the outside I had blockers iI make a guy miss then all of a sudden I got hit in the back and I got pushed for the first down. The next play we scored and won the game.

My teammates tackled me celebrating, leaving the ball in the back of the net and the goalie with her head between her hands. The scoreboard ticked the last few seconds away before letting out a sound of excitement that was prior a sound of disappointment. Losing in the sectional finals was devastating, but it motivated me in the off season. Coaches always say “we can learn from this loss” and I never took it seriously. Our failure set us up for more success than imagined.

This is the reminiscence of my first soccer game that I refereed. I was volunteering for the local soccer league as they needed assistance. As a fourteen-year old, I did not know what to expect. All I could think about was the roaring of the parents, and how much pressure was on my shoulders to make the right calls. It was ironic since I was refereeing a game for thirteen-year old players.

When the final whistle was blown, I didn’t even know that the match was over and that I won. I figured out that I won when the referee raised my hand. I was so tired at the end of my match, but I was so happy that I

Breath was rushing out the kid who wore a Gray and blue uniform, the boy 's hair was black and poked straight up in twisted curls, he had brown eyes that looked like dirt, he was strong and athletic, his name was D’haquille Jones, and I was DhaQuille Jones, staring down at the newly glazed floorboards of John Pickett high school gym. The ref blew the whistle signaling that our time out was over, and all we had was thirteen precious seconds to beat the Valencia high. I jogged onto the court, adrenaline rushing through my body. The ref tossed the ball towards Chris, once he had found the open man he lobbed it over the oncoming defender. Calling for the ball I sprinted around my defender to get open.

“Touchdown Lafayette!” This was the start to my high school career and we were losing in the first half of the game. It took them forever to score so I believed that the defense could go hard and stop them just once. We knew if we lost it would be some smack going on social media so someone had to step up.

“Matt,y you will be starting forward now,” Mr. K. said right before I nervously stepped onto the field, sweating like a man in a sauna. The whole summer I practiced soccer with my dad for two hours a day to make the team my sixth grade year. I wasn’t looking to start, I was just looking to make the team. While my friends were at the beach or at friend’s house, I would be playing soccer.

The score is now 3-1, the crowd roars energizing us to play football unlike any other. People stare in disbelief. With an extraordinary kick, the ball is flung pass the keeper into the top corner of the goal. Our goalie saving the impossible as the other team fights for redemption. Football is something special that only the players and the spectator's

I began playing soccer when I was eight, which isn’t a very long time, but throughout the six years I’ve been playing, soccer has changed my life. My weekends, as well as some of my weekdays, have been devoted to soccer. Soccer has taught me how to be humble, kind and how to make sure my emotions don’t overpower my

Being shoved to the ground and coming up with a mouthful of turf and a bloody nose isn’t the ideal way to spend a friday night, but for me, it's something I put blood, sweat, and tears into. Soccer has been a passion of mine since my father dropped me off at the local YMCA when I was at the tender age of four. Spending all of my free days for thirteen years running after a soccer ball is arguably what made me into the person I am today. Unity, tenacity, passion and pride have all been morals that are valued within the sport and in my own philosophy. I have explored places I’d never give a second thought to because my sport took me there.

I notice one of my teammates Sebastian scoring and the whole team starts celebrating. As five more minutes pass and finally remember hearing the final whistle and I see everyone celebrating as we have won the championship. As we were done celebrating and packing our stuff we went in a room where I could see the big

Now that I 've understood why teamwork is important i 've changed the way I play in the game. When I was a kid I only cared about myself when I played soccer. I never thought about my teammates. I just wanted all the attention for me. I wouldn 't pass the ball.