Tuesday, January 21, 2020
Game Over :: essays research papers
 Game Over      As I stood at the three point line, the ball seemed to be in slow motion.  Screams from the crowd came as the ball dropped through the net. Not only did  this shot go in but it dropped through the net with such force that it made a  sound that was heard throughout the gym. The gym was packed and the fans were on  their feet, I had just hit my first three pointer of my varsity basketball  career. As our team set up the press, sweat dripped from my face. I was close  enough to kiss my opponent, there was no way he was going to get the ball. He  shoved me backward and he planted his foot on mine, he then pushed off and ran  for the inbounder. I fell back a few feet and sprinted towards my man. As the  inbounder released the ball with a firm push I stuck my hand out in hopes for a  steal, SNAP! As the ball was deflected towards the right my man ran and picked  it up. I quickly looked down at my finger and with fear and pain walked over to  my bench. My pinkie-finger on my right hand was at a ninety degree angle, as  sweat dripped down may face I could feel myself getting hot. My stomach seemed  to drop and I was feeling as if I was on a roller coaster. The game had been  stopped and I was brought into the coaches room. My assistant coach led me into  the room and sat me down on a wooden chair. I began to feel very cold, and my  finger began to have a shooting pain. This pain was not present before and was  no making itself known that there was something wrong with.    My parents entered the room, my mother carrying a face that I never had seen  before. My father with a calm collective look to him. The assistant then began  to explain that there was to deal with this, either go to the hospital and miss  the game or deal with it write in the room. My mother stared over at my coach  when he relayed this message to me and my father seem to agree with my coach. I  looked at my coach with eyes of trust and horror, and then laid my hand in his.  He then took his hand and placed it over my pinkie. Which by now was swelling  and extremely painful, he then got a firm grip and with one quick tug my finger    					  Game Over  ::  essays research papers   Game Over      As I stood at the three point line, the ball seemed to be in slow motion.  Screams from the crowd came as the ball dropped through the net. Not only did  this shot go in but it dropped through the net with such force that it made a  sound that was heard throughout the gym. The gym was packed and the fans were on  their feet, I had just hit my first three pointer of my varsity basketball  career. As our team set up the press, sweat dripped from my face. I was close  enough to kiss my opponent, there was no way he was going to get the ball. He  shoved me backward and he planted his foot on mine, he then pushed off and ran  for the inbounder. I fell back a few feet and sprinted towards my man. As the  inbounder released the ball with a firm push I stuck my hand out in hopes for a  steal, SNAP! As the ball was deflected towards the right my man ran and picked  it up. I quickly looked down at my finger and with fear and pain walked over to  my bench. My pinkie-finger on my right hand was at a ninety degree angle, as  sweat dripped down may face I could feel myself getting hot. My stomach seemed  to drop and I was feeling as if I was on a roller coaster. The game had been  stopped and I was brought into the coaches room. My assistant coach led me into  the room and sat me down on a wooden chair. I began to feel very cold, and my  finger began to have a shooting pain. This pain was not present before and was  no making itself known that there was something wrong with.    My parents entered the room, my mother carrying a face that I never had seen  before. My father with a calm collective look to him. The assistant then began  to explain that there was to deal with this, either go to the hospital and miss  the game or deal with it write in the room. My mother stared over at my coach  when he relayed this message to me and my father seem to agree with my coach. I  looked at my coach with eyes of trust and horror, and then laid my hand in his.  He then took his hand and placed it over my pinkie. Which by now was swelling  and extremely painful, he then got a firm grip and with one quick tug my finger    					    
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