Kayla Inman
Mrs. Richards
Engl 1301.404
12/4/14
Love, Pain& Basketball
Summer was almost over and the start of my junior year in
high school would soon begin. This meant that I only had a little over a month
to prepare for the girls varsity basketball tryouts. My dream was to play in
front of the big crowd and show everyone my talent as I got to play my favorite
game in that grand gym. I always looked up to the varsity players and I hoped
that one day I could become a role model just like the ones I had come to know
myself. During the summer I joined an elite basketball team where we got to
travel all over the southern states to play in tournaments. My game improved
tremendously while playing with this team, as we competed with the toughest
teams and players from all over the nation. I became more confident in my work
ethic and it showed, but my performance could not stop there. I spent numerous
days during the week training with professional coaches which my parents spent
thousands of dollars on to improve my skills. In order to live out my dream I
had to put in the work to become a great basketball player. I spent many long hours in the gym practicing
my passion for I knew this was the effort I needed to make the team. I
practiced basketball in the gym near my house shooting hundreds of shoots daily
and also conditioning myself by running throughout my hilly neighborhood.
Basketball
was the game that I loved not only to play but to watch and to experience.
Basketball to me was like a relationship you could not let go, it was attached
to me. One morning I woke up early to go the gym, it was so early the sun had
not even come out from under the horizon yet. Once I arrived at the
neighborhood recreation center with my tennis shoes on and my ball against my
hip fitting right in the pocket of my hand, I walked straight to the empty gym
and again started practicing. I began as usual just warming up, getting off a
few shots before it instantaneously got intense. I shot the ball and watched as it touched the
rim softly with its thick skin and dropped right onto the glossy wooden floor. It
then rolled slowly down the court until it no longer had the momentum to roll
further. I walked back to meet with the ball and snatched it up from the
ground, then proceeded to basket full speed as I was determined to make this
next shot. I made contact with the eyes of the backboard, and jumped in sync
with the release of the ball from my hands and landed right back on the surface
of the floor. Right away I felt a sharp discomfort when making contact with the
ground that caused me to collapse onto the cold wooden gym floor. I connected the
throbbing ache of my body down to the ball of my ankle which began to swell. My
heart began to beat rhythmically with the pulse of my inflamed joint as I
steadily began to pull myself up off of the ground. I got to my feet and
started to take a step which resulted in me returning to the ground once
again. Then is when I realized this was
just no minor sprain; I crawled my way to the perimeter of the gym and pushed my
weight upon the wall to stand. I
proceeded to walk, dragging my way down the court with the assistance of only
the wall as the pain continued to numb my body. The more progress I made the
more my body reacted to the injury I had acquired. My vision began to blur as
the only thing that brought me to the exit of the facility was the bright
sunlight which I could recognize through the transparent doors of the building.
Once I reached the door I found a bench and rested there until my grandmother
could arrive to pick me back up in her car. The next day I went to see a
doctor, and was told that this injury would take some time to heal that I was
steps away from tearing a ligament. I was requested to go through physical
therapy as well as not to participate in contact physical activity for at least
four to six weeks. This was ridiculous to me, I never once in my life had been disabled
to the point where I could not play basketball and tryouts were only a couple of
weeks away. I was now faced with two choices; I could either play through the
injury risking myself of an even more severe situation in order to make the
team, or I could sit out and take the advice of the doctor.
I
did not want to imagine the thought of not making the varsity team, I kept
re-playing the incident where I injured myself wishing I could take it back,
but I had to return to reality and face the truth. I had to decide; I made the
decision to listen to the doctor’s advice, I would sit out tryouts and go through
my junior year not being able to letter. Instead of spending countless hours in
practice with my teammates I would have to sit out and go through rehab. My
choice made a major difference in my life, and the repercussions of my decision
ended in me not being able to achieve my dream my junior year but it also helped
me realize my love for the game.
