As a kid I always dreamed of making the game winning play whether it be for the glory or for the notoriety. I finally had a chance to make that play, but it did not end the way that most people would think or how I thought it would happen.
On a normal day after lunch everybody would go and play a game of football in the gymnasium. After we had played for about 15 minutes, it was all tied up with one more chance left to score. I was on defense, and I was not going to let them score. On the other team was their captain and quarterback, Carter Hovland. He is in the same grade as me, and was just another student, but when he was the quarterback, He would not hesitant to make any throw. He was going to do everything in his power to win. As the
I was sitting in my zone following his eyes, and his eyes became wide as he thought the receiver would be open. As he threw it, I made my move with a burst of speed, and I jumped the route and intercepted the pass. Joy and happiness spread across my body as I realized that they would not score, but that happiness and joy quickly turned into determination to return the interception for a pick-six and win the game for my team. Since I already was mid-sprint when I caught it, I knew I would be gone, and that it would be an easy return. I let my eyes drift off of Carter and focused on running to the wall which marked our endzone. I sprinted faster than I ever had done before. I thought I was finally going to achieve that dream of winning the game for the entire team and feel all the joys that come with that. As I neared the wall, I had a good idea of slowing down, but as I started to, I felt a sudden shove from behind. My momentum quickly built back up, and I knew that I would not be able to slow myself. I put my arm out in front of me to lessen the impact and to protect my face and chest, but as I did that, I heard a loud pop, and my arm flared up in
I became appalled because of what had just happened so I did what any student would do and asked the supervisor for help. When I approached her I saw that she was talking to someone else, but I felt that given the situation at hand I was a little more important at the time. As I started to ask for help she abruptly said “Can’t you see I’m talking to someone”. I stared at her for a little bit while feeling unsure about what I should do next. I knew I had broken my arm, and I knew I had to take care of it, and now I have to wait my turn to speak. As I waited for my turn my arm continued to throb, so I went to the nurse’s office for some ice. By the time I had received my ice pack lunch had ended, and I now needed to go to my next class. That would be choir, and let me tell you trying to be harmonious becomes a lot more difficult with a broken arm. The ice pack did not help at all, and my arm throbbed as choir finished, and I had thought about asking the office if I could go home and then to the hospital, but I was even more stubborn than I am now, and I decided that I was going to finish the school day and hope for the best. After I went home, I repeatedly told my mom everything was fine. Until, I noticed a large bump in the middle of my forearm. I did not want to touch it or do anything with it, but as I started to do other things I forgot all about it, and