On September 24, 2011 I played a football game. I play on
the Chandler Wolves with an awesome coach. We played against the Scottsdale
Firebirds and my coach told my teammates and I that this team was skilled. The
Firebirds had not lost a game in two years. The fans loved to watch this team
play football.
The field my team and I played on was made out of fake
turf. Because it had been made out of this, it burned my feet harshly. Luckly,
the coaches had brought water for everybody to drink and squirt on our feet. My
entire team and I did not enjoy playing on this football field.
The
last touchdown of the game was the most exciting. As my team listened to the
play, we all wanted to end this game. My body ached, I had a head ach, and I
just wanted to go home. “We already won the game”, I thought. The score was
forty to zero, but as my quarterback told us the play, he also gasped, “work
hard.” We broke from the huddle and got to the line of scrimmage. As I got in
my stance I told my-self “do the best
job ever because it could just be the last play of the game,” I thought. The
play was a running play to the right. The quarterback tossed the ball to Cutter
Hatch, our running back and he ran as fast as he could. All of the sudden,
POOF! It was like Cutter
disappeared. He was in the end zone and
ran incredibly fast.
The game ended forty-seven to zero and my team and I were
very happy. We shook the Firebirds hands
and went to the sideline. I know I will not forget the day I beat the Firebirds
forty-seven to zero.
Second Autobiographical Incident
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