Sportsmanship.

As previously mentioned, I played a lot of soccer within my time at high school, but little did I know, these moments would be the hardest of my teenage years. As my last couple of game were approaching me at an astronomical rate, I felt relieved. I didn’t play because I was good, nor did I play because my high school was known for its soccer team. I played, because I felt like I had to finish what I started four years ago when I joined the team.

But some people wanted me gone sooner than expected.

We had three games left in the regular season, and my team could not have been more pumped to succeed, despite our 2-9 record. People blamed each other individually, but I believe it was poor sportsmanship all around, we just didn’t really click, as you are about to see.

With one of the games underway, we began to play our hearts out. I was starting defense (fullback) due to my terrible ability to handle the ball, and I was starting only because I was a senior. With this in mind, the ball passed me, and our goalie could not stop it.

I was told to kill myself, and to walk off the field.

His words, pierced my heart, not to mention he was my own cousin. As I looked on for any help, my coach only stared. No help was necessary in his eyes, despite him hearing the words that were said. I will never forget this experience.