All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
The Day I Almost Lost Everything
I remember the feeling of the grass on my back, arms, and legs. I remember the thickness in the air. But then I heard a whistle and then there was nothing.
Nothing really made sense until they were loading me up and carrying me away that's when I knew that I was in trouble.
I’ve been playing football since fifth grade, it was fun I still remember how my parents got me to join “in this sport you get to hit people, and you won't get in trouble”. I was sold I thought it would be amazing running around tackling people and getting praised for it. For the first year it was great, I was having the time of my life it's wasn't that hard you just ran out onto the field and played. But in sixth grade it got harder, now they were strapping pads on us and the practices were more intense it did a complete 360 from the fifth grade run to the ball. I got through sixth grade football alright a little bruised but the hitting was still fun so I kept with it. I wasn’t that surprised to find out that in seventh grade it was getting even harder, the kids were bigger, and the drills were more skill based. I was starting to question if I wanted to keep with it. I was tired of the hard practices and now that I was getting hit harder it was taking some of the fun out of it. It seemed like soon id make the decision to drop football altogether until a few days later Brian Molitor the biggest kid in our grade would help me with that decision.
I remember that day like it was yesterday the memory burned in the back of my mind forever. October 4th 2010. I was standing in line for a football drill on the slope of a hill in the new prague middle school football fields, it was another hot monday late in the season. The air was thick with the smell of the verdure, and it seemed to just seal the sweat onto you making the day even more miserable. The sun was bearing down on us, and it seemed like practice would never end. So in this line one Steven Kvam ahead of me is the the monster of a kid Brian Molitor. We were all standing in line for a drill where two people lay on their backs and the first one to get up and drive the other one back wins. Simple enough feels like we've done it a million times by this time of the year. Well anyways Steve didn’t want to go against Brian so he turned around and pushed me in front of him, I didn’t care I just wanted practice to be over, so I layed down. I remember the feeling of the grass on my back, arms, and legs. I remember the thickness in the air. But then I heard the whistle and then there was nothing.
The next thing I remember is laying on the ground dazed. My coach comes over to me and asks if I'm ok. I told him I didn’t know, that my head hurt, and that I saw stars.
“Don’t try to get up...” he said “Just lay here okay”
I did what he said as he went to call Kim the athletic trainer, and my mom. She came to the middle school and my mom was right behind her. Kim asked me how i felt and I told her I was dizzy, she told me to get up and come with her but I couldn’t. Now this freaked my mom out and she asks
“Why can’t you get up”
“I just can’t” I said
“Why not” relied Kim
“I'm trying” I said back almost crying “I can’t move my arms”
This got kim worried she grabbed my hand and asked me to close my fist. I couldn’t do it I couldn’t close my fists. Kim pulled my mom aside, and I don’t remember what was said but the decision to call the ambulance was made. My mom came back to me and told me they were going to take me to the hospital and that they would be with me as soon as possible. The ambulance pulled into a small path in the field next to the cemetery, two EMTs jumped out and came to me. Kim explained the situation and the EMTs decided to put my on a stretcher and carry me off. It wasn’t until they lifted me onto the stretcher that I realised something. Not only was I unable to feel my arms or my legs I couldn’t feel anything; I couldn't feel hands touching me, I couldn’t feel the sun or the air, I couldn't feel the grass every sense of feeling I had was gone. The hospital was even worse lying on a table, waiting for someone to come through the door was the worst I wanted to get up and find my mom and dad and it felt like forever before they were allowed to come in with a doctor. They took X-rays of my spine and a MRI of my brain. Luckily my spine wasn’t broken and I regain feeling again soon after.
I returned to school three days later later with a sore body and a major concussion. I had been taken out of football and it was to be decided if I could play next year. I had to sit on the sideline and watch the other kids play. And I learned something through doing this, I HATE THE SIDELINE! Watching the other kids run around hitting people, doing this things I joined football to do drove me mad. I wanted nothing more to get in and play but I couldn’t.
Being taken out of play put something back into me, something I thought I lost. The desire to play. I love playing football and it took having having it wrenched away from me to see it. I've played every year since and have improved a lot and I am now a varsity player and I don’t think I would be where if it hadn't been for some lug literally knocking some sense into me.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
This is a true story from my seventh grade.