Hits and Misses

First Hit: Blog Posts

The article I decided to discuss is the speech Donald Trump made in 2016 when he talked about the flood in Louisiana. I found this speech inspiring because of how I can connect to it on a personal level. Obviously I had friends and family that were affected so I had to help them. I was lucky enough to not have been affected by the flood.

My favorite part of Trump's speech was, "We are one nation. When one state hurts, we all hurt--and we all must work together to lift each other up." I really think that this excerpt from the speech shows what the 'American Dream' really is; a united country that has everyone watching out for each other. This speech also makes me respect our current president much more.

I have always found blog posts to not be difficult; they just made me take a step back and give a solid, legitimate answer in each post. (I just provided one of my posts from my blog)

Second Hit: Personal Narrative 

I’ve been playing soccer since I was about 3 years old, and I’ve somehow managed to stay on the same team all these years. But even though we’re more of a family than a team, people still leave the team. One of these people was Hamza, who was our best player. But after seeing him play, you couldn’t blame him for leaving. He had so much potential even as a kid that it just wasn’t fair to the other teams. After he left I didn’t see him for at least 5 years. So when I found myself playing against him at my soccer tournament I was dumbfounded. But let’s go back a little.

            It was 8 in the morning when my mom woke me up. I slowly got out of bed and changed into my uniform. Because it was mid-January I had to put a long-sleeved shirt and a jacket on. I started brushing my teeth when I realized what I was doing today: I was about to leave to go to my first soccer tournament of the season! I rinse my brush under the sink, grab my cleats, and put my headphones on. I was ready to win, and nothing could stop me.

            After riding in the car for almost an hour, we finally got there. I open the door to be welcomed by a cold breeze and teammates. After getting situated I remember that this tournament was only 3v3, so we didn’t have our entire team here. I soon dismiss the thought, though, when I see my coach walking up to me. “Hey Coach!” I shout excitedly.

“Jacks, how are you today?” He responds using his nickname for me. After this talking I see the time: 10:15. The first game is in 10 minutes! I get up and start stretching with my team.

            The ref blows the whistle and I pass the ball. Our first game is just starting and I have adrenaline pumping through my veins. I’m running down the field when I see the ball fly into the opponents’ net. Then I get subbed out until we score again. I keep doing this until we win: 6-1. Today is a good day. Then I hear my coach say the next game starts an in hour. So I just hang out with my teammates anxiously waiting for our second game.

            The second game starts. I’m on the bench this game, but in a matter of minutes we score, so I go in. By the time the game ends it feels almost as if we played for only seconds. Then our next game starts. Win. Fourth game starts. Win. We were playing great today and everyone felt great. But the teams have been getting harder and harder the farther we progress into the tournament. So, by the time the semi-finals start I’m starting to feel the fatigue. My legs were the worst; I had been hit with cleats, kicked in the shins, and had been running and kicking all day.

I had to sit down after the semi-finals game. We won, but just barely. I grabbed my

water jug and got up off the cool grass. I look behind me to see some of my teammates

talking to someone, but I couldn’t get a good look at him. As I walked forward, I heard a

name. A name that I had almost completely forgotten about over the past 5 years. That

name was Hamza, and he was standing right in front of me.

I was astounded and confused when I saw him that I just awkwardly muttered, “Hey

man…what’s up?” He turns around and has a grin on his face. “Jack” He says. “It’s been

too long man. So, how’s the team?” We just engaged in small talk like that until my coach

comes over and tells us we have a game in 30 minutes. “Hey I’m also playing in 30 minutes.” Hamza responds. Then I realize that I might be playing against Hamza, who was better than everyone else when he was on our team. The same Hamza that made the BRSC Black team­­; the best team that is extremely hard to get on. I feel a sense of dread rise in my throat when I say, “We’re…playing each other?” “I guess so” is his response, completely free of nervousness. “Well, I’ll see you then” I say as I’m walking away.

Just as I get back to my team we start stretching. I couldn’t keep from glancing over at Hamza’s team. They all made it on ’02 Black and were starters. Great. Trying to stay calm and collected, I start a conversation with my friend about fantasy football. My coach tells us to get up and head over to the field. I completely forget about all the previous wins and only think of one thing: I’m about to lose in the finals…to my old teammate. Grimacing, I get up and jog over to field with butterflies in my stomach.

After getting to the field my coach lets me know that I’m going to start. Now I’m really feeling anxious. Luckily, I have two of my other teammates on that can shoot well. So, all I have to do is pass. Or that’s what I wanted to happen. But deep down I knew I would have to do something other than pass. Then I have an idea: I may not have to shoot, but I can defend.

The day started off chilly, but now it’s a bright humid day. I walk onto the field and assume my positon in the back. The ref flips a coin and Hamza gets the ball first. Suddenly all my anxiety and nervousness just switches to adrenaline. I start feeling determined and want to win this one last game more than anything else. Then the ref blows his whistle and Hamza passes the ball back towards the goal. The defender then runs up and kicks the ball high up in the air. I then see something in the corner of my eye. Hamza. He was sprinting down towards my goal; and the ball was going straight towards him! I find myself running as fast as I can to Hamza. I just barely make it there to jump and head the ball down the field. This is how the game kept on going, until they scored.

We were down 1-0 when I got subbed out. I look up just in time to see my

teammate trip and Hamza score. 2-0. Starting to panic, I grab my water jug and just start drinking a lot. Like eating while binge-watching a show, I couldn't stop. I almost drank the entire thing when my coach looks back at me and asks if I want to go in. It takes a lot, but I had to go to bathroom, so I unwillingly declined.

When I'm jogging back to the field I hear a whistle. That means that there was

either a foul or a goal. I see the field and feel distraught at what I'm looking at. The game was over, and we had lost 5-2. Looking back at it now, I've got a feeling that maybe, just maybe, if I had gone in I could've helped my team win the game. Maybe just by getting an assist or defending Hamza.  I've also learned a lesson from this. It isn't always about winning. I know, this is very common and said all the time. But I always thought it wasn't that big of a deal, but it was only after the game I came to realize this, because of what came out of this. I got to see an old friend and spend some time with him. So, in the end, losing the soccer game was a good thing.

This was a hit because when I wrote this, I felt like I connected to the topic, and this is evident when reading it. All in all, this turned out to be a great piece of writing.

Third Hit: Research Paper

(I did not copy and paste the paper here because it is 6 pages long)

Because I researched my topic and got to choose it, I knew my topic well and I was able to write an essay that was full of information and opinions that were all tied together so well that the final product turned out great. 

First Miss: Literary Analysis

My grades on everything involving the analysis dragged my overall grade in English down frequently. I just don't think it was good because I didn't connect to what I was writing about, unlike my hits.

Second Miss: Poetry Writing Assignment

The thing that makes this a miss is that I had very bad writer's block when writing this assignment. It took me too long to figure out what to write about.