Coaches

Coaches: when a person utters this word, some are overcome with happiness as their coach-player relationship is one of joy, but some are overwhelmed with the sense of pure hatred as they have wanted to obliterate their coach since day one. Everyone has one of these feelings towards his high school coach as the coach has caused the player utter joy, or total agony. Throughout high school, I played soccer under Paco and Houser, and I have to say that these four years did not play out as I believed they would. I pictured my four years, three on varsity and one on JV, to be the heyday of high school, but I was wrong. After two years of decent fun, the downhill slide began to occur as seniors became full of themselves, or the coach seemed to be carefree about winning. In my senior year, the downhill slide became steeper as I saw my playing time come to a complete stop. After an ankle injury, I came back, expecting playing time, to be greeted by the bench. To make my senior year worse, I did not play at all on senior night which was a total mood killer. Game after game, I slowly began to lose all care for playing and participating. Finally, the last game came around and I was excited for the season to be over, yet I wanted to win state. We lost a hard-fought battle to DeKalb during Regionals; and at that moment I felt all of the built-up emotions overcome me and I began to tear up, knowing that my soccer career came to an abrupt and sad ending. In the end, I realized that I hung around not for the much demised coaches, but for the brotherhood I had with my teammates.