I reached into my pocket and pulled out the note I had received from the doctor the previous day, the note that made my world come crashing down. After nonstop injuries for the past year, the doctor had told me that I would no longer be able to participate in contact sports. I was about to quit the sport that I had played nearly my entire life. I would never be able to play basketball again. …show more content…
While I explained the situation, I did everything I could to stop the tears from coming, but it was impossible. The small drops rolled down my face, and I barely heard a word the coaches said. They were trying to be sympathetic, but I had never been one of their favorites, and their words were empty and meaningless. After turning in my uniform, I returned to my post against the wall.
I grabbed a basketball off of a nearby rack,and began to dribble as I sat and observed the practice. The steady rhythm of the ball bouncing up and down beneath my fingertips had always brought a sense of comfort. The team began practice, and tears began to roll down my cheeks again as I watched. I have pondered quitting basketball many times, but I wanted it to be on my own terms, not like this. Out of all of the challenges I have faced in basketball, this was the one to finally bring me