JokerValentine
We Out
I'll start off by saying that probably a lot of people on this site don't care about sports or even journal entries. That's alright by me, read what you like I guess.
But this is more of a story about letting go of being a part of one the greatest things I have ever been a part of. It can be just high school athletics, just playing basketball for many. But I spent 6 years of my life on the court, learning to play something that would eventually define who I was. I am writing this journal because I need a means to let go, to come to terms that it's all over and I may never wear a jersey ever again. Where to begin...
I never had friends growing up. I was usually the odd man out, not like I was the dumb kid or the weird kid, just nobody socialized with me. In 7th grade basketball gave me the first real friends I ever really had. It's funny, because you can think about having all your friends today and sometimes question their loyalties. Basketball never once gave me that feeling, because I knew that going forward would only strengthen my friendship with them. We became brothers in a way, playing together every day of the season. Win or lose, all we really had was each other, even if we realized it or not.
Freshman year was when I finally learned how to play. My coach at that time, seeing as I did not have as much confidence, worked a lot with me. He made me want to play more. It was in that moment where the sport became a very part of my soul and identity. After that point, my love for the game increased. That sport became a part of me I can't ever forget. Whether it was being the MVP as a sophomore, or team leader in points and rebounds, I did it because I was lucky enough to have friends and coaches who loved the game.
Junior year was a terrible season, despite me having great numbers. We won a single game that season, and even though we had heart, we had very little else. But this past year, the season I ended just a week ago, we had an 8-12 season. I was named captain of the team. But the season was not all good.
After I ran cross-country, I developed a stress fracture in my leg. I had never had such a serious injury before, and it took me 6 weeks to recover on crutches. I couldn't walk on it, couldn't run, jump, squat, you name it. And in those 6 weeks we changed our game plan to be more running and jumping based, meaning when I returned I was the odd man out. I went from being a starter to sitting on the bench for 28 out of 32 minutes.
And I realized that, even though it hurt, it was for the better. If we wanted to win we had to sacrifice, to do what's right. My senior year of the season was one spent mostly from the bench, but my closest friend since 7th grade who routinely sat on the bench, never once complained. I learned a lot throughout the season, how he can sacrifice so much time just to sit there, maybe not even get in. And I realized why he sat there all those games. It's about the journey, about the fun memories and times and to hell with everything else.
The last game of the season was one that filled my heart with unbearable grief, letting go of something that's become a part of you, the place where you made your first friends. You could see it in the seniors' eyes when the final horn sounded, meaning they would never again wear that jersey that made their life so much better. In the locker room after the game, with tears welled in so many eyes from people that were usually so much more composed, I realized it's more than just a game. Many people turned to the sport because they wanted to escape from something, or perhaps become a part of something. It reminded me that we were family, and it pains my heart to know that everything will never be the same again.
But all good times must end on a good note, all journeys have a destination that may not be as pleasant as the journey itself, but it is where we must go. It was more than just a game to me, it was life, it was heart, it was getting up at 6 AM knowing I wouldn't be home until midnight just to do it all over again. It was hope, it was getting better through hard work, it was blowouts, it was close calls, it was "the refs sucked", it was "we play better than this horse-shit", but it was all a part of me.
But this is more of a story about letting go of being a part of one the greatest things I have ever been a part of. It can be just high school athletics, just playing basketball for many. But I spent 6 years of my life on the court, learning to play something that would eventually define who I was. I am writing this journal because I need a means to let go, to come to terms that it's all over and I may never wear a jersey ever again. Where to begin...
I never had friends growing up. I was usually the odd man out, not like I was the dumb kid or the weird kid, just nobody socialized with me. In 7th grade basketball gave me the first real friends I ever really had. It's funny, because you can think about having all your friends today and sometimes question their loyalties. Basketball never once gave me that feeling, because I knew that going forward would only strengthen my friendship with them. We became brothers in a way, playing together every day of the season. Win or lose, all we really had was each other, even if we realized it or not.
Freshman year was when I finally learned how to play. My coach at that time, seeing as I did not have as much confidence, worked a lot with me. He made me want to play more. It was in that moment where the sport became a very part of my soul and identity. After that point, my love for the game increased. That sport became a part of me I can't ever forget. Whether it was being the MVP as a sophomore, or team leader in points and rebounds, I did it because I was lucky enough to have friends and coaches who loved the game.
Junior year was a terrible season, despite me having great numbers. We won a single game that season, and even though we had heart, we had very little else. But this past year, the season I ended just a week ago, we had an 8-12 season. I was named captain of the team. But the season was not all good.
After I ran cross-country, I developed a stress fracture in my leg. I had never had such a serious injury before, and it took me 6 weeks to recover on crutches. I couldn't walk on it, couldn't run, jump, squat, you name it. And in those 6 weeks we changed our game plan to be more running and jumping based, meaning when I returned I was the odd man out. I went from being a starter to sitting on the bench for 28 out of 32 minutes.
And I realized that, even though it hurt, it was for the better. If we wanted to win we had to sacrifice, to do what's right. My senior year of the season was one spent mostly from the bench, but my closest friend since 7th grade who routinely sat on the bench, never once complained. I learned a lot throughout the season, how he can sacrifice so much time just to sit there, maybe not even get in. And I realized why he sat there all those games. It's about the journey, about the fun memories and times and to hell with everything else.
The last game of the season was one that filled my heart with unbearable grief, letting go of something that's become a part of you, the place where you made your first friends. You could see it in the seniors' eyes when the final horn sounded, meaning they would never again wear that jersey that made their life so much better. In the locker room after the game, with tears welled in so many eyes from people that were usually so much more composed, I realized it's more than just a game. Many people turned to the sport because they wanted to escape from something, or perhaps become a part of something. It reminded me that we were family, and it pains my heart to know that everything will never be the same again.
But all good times must end on a good note, all journeys have a destination that may not be as pleasant as the journey itself, but it is where we must go. It was more than just a game to me, it was life, it was heart, it was getting up at 6 AM knowing I wouldn't be home until midnight just to do it all over again. It was hope, it was getting better through hard work, it was blowouts, it was close calls, it was "the refs sucked", it was "we play better than this horse-shit", but it was all a part of me.
