Narrative Rough Draft
September 15, 2011
I did not know how to embrace the crowd storming onto the court. Joyous and excited, tired and happy were some of the many emotions showering me that March evening. For once in my life I felt like I had accomplished something. That night I felt like I was on top of the world.
The district basketball game was against the one and only, Harding County Ranchers. The tough guys, the two seed, the only team other than the one seed, the Faith Longhorns, that could not be touched. They were dreadfully fast, strong, athletic and almost flawless. Their one gaping weakness appeared to be smarts. We attacked that flaw and made them exploit it completely.
The Bison Cardinals were an average team, a team that was big and fairly athletic, but lacked depth and confidence. Unaware of our identity, we suffered from a long drought of being absolutely and utterly terrible in previous years. To be honest, we should have been a lot better and the number one seed in our district; however, we were always the underdogs and one of the worst teams in our district. On this particular night, though, we played like the best team in the state. I felt restless and edgy the entire day of school leading up to the big game. Teachers nagged and nagged to get something done, but I focused on the goal, all day long. I conserved my much needed energy for the thirty-two minutes of basketball I was preparing to play. There was something about that day that gave me confidence and I knew it was going to be a good day. On the bus ride to Lemmon peace and quiet, nerves and focus filled the air. No one said much to anyone. Everyone began to feel restless and edgy as we rolled into the town, everyone knew the importance of the game.
Impatiently the team walked into the gym, knowing we had to watch the number 4 seed Lemmon Cowboys get throttled by the number one seed Faith Longhorns. That most...