First Draft

Lab #7: First Draft, take 2

                I woke up at 5:30 am on a Saturday morning. I shook my father several times to wake him up. He hated waking up early because of his stressful day job. I ran downstairs and packed both my bags: the one for soccer, which started at 6:30, and the one for Italian school, which started right after. When I arrived at the field, my coach, who didn’t know much, threw me on the field. Our team was dead last, with no chance of getting anywhere close to a playoff position, but we all still showed up. The team we were playing was first. The massacre started and couldn’t be stopped. We were all in the wrong positions and we were down 10-0 by the half. The second half went down the same road. After every goal I remember thinking, I need this to be over, the margin is too great. This is embarrassing. What am I doing here? Why do we even play soccer if we suck so much? This process was exhausting. I looked in the stands; there were a few friends from the other team laughing at us. Our parents could barely look. It went up to 21-0. We went to shake hands. Everything was civil until one of the players on the other team called one of my team mates a “faggot” and a “pussy” and gave him a shove. That wasn’t a good idea. Half my team started a fist fight against not only the players, but also the coach of the other team. While this was happening, the other half of my team were passing the ball between each other. (PATHETIC)

I wasn’t a fighter and didn’t really feel like playing, so I sat on the bench and just watched. I had only been on that team for a year so I didn’t know most of the players very well. I’m not a hopeful person either so I didn’t feel the need to practice. I’ve played sports before, but I had never seen something like this. The biggest question that came up was why are my players fighting or playing after this terrible loss? (PATHETIC)

I looked in the large stands and saw the small group of kids. I saw my coach from a distance give a slight look of relief for what was happening. The ref was slowly walking to her bag to write down the names of those in trouble. I also saw the net that my teammates were shooting on, much smaller than it was during the game. (IMAGERY)

The main reason why they were fighting was not because they lost: it was because they needed to fight. There are many reasons for this;

Fighting in soccer, was a way for us to release all the anger, frustration or any sadness from our lives: It was a way for us to let go and clear our minds. I don’t see fighting here as just the case where half my team was in a fist fight. Fighting also includes playing soccer: (*****information) Suppose you are playing a sport and you aggressively retrieve the ball from the opponent. This is a version of fighting. The loss for us mean we couldn’t fight in this way. To replace that, we faught after the game. (The two groups) (HYPOTHETICAL)



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