I tried to write an essay about mundane things in my life.
I really want to know if I succeed to tell the reader how the event influenced me and what kind of person I truly am.
i kinda ended badly. Do you guys have any idea how to end my essay?
" At least try once. We don't know." " We don't need to. You show no talents and you are too old." " How do you know? You never play with me. I can work really hard. I can practice 10 hours a day, mom." "Stop trying. You know you can't practice 10 hours a day. You will hurt yourself. Just drop it ok?" " How come..." "No, I'm done talking with you. Do what you are supposed to do right now." Mom went back to her room and slammed the door. My request was rejected, but she was the one who got pissed off.
Is there anything better than football? I really want to say no, but there is no Utopia in real life. For many reasons I couldn't become a professional player, and as a student I have to concern more about my school works, which are the thing that my parents think I'm supposed to do, instead of dreaming to be a player. In fact, I love studying. I 'm passionate about science, reading and pondering over complicated questions, but I just feel like playing football has been giving me something else since the first time I touched it.
I remember my grandpa is my first football teacher. The first time my grandpa took me to a park he threw me a ball on the ground, I intuitively picked up the ball and threw it back by hands. I didn't know I was supposed to kick it. My grandpa told me that at the end of my first "practice", I said football was boring. However, I almost played football with my grandpa every day since that, and I did showed some talents. I became a primary school student a year later. I would never go to that school if I were the one who made the decision because there is no soccer field in that school. Nothing is related to football in that school indeed. Since none of my classmates were interested in football, I lost track of it for six years. Fortunately, I went to a middle school with a football field and a school team. I remembered when my friends asked me to play football with them, I was too shy to go because I didn't want to tell them that the last time I played football was 6 years ago. They did laughed at my awful skills. I felt quite upset that day, not because I was teased by my friends, but because six years' not playing football wasn't persuasive enough to be the reason that I put football into oblivion. "Practice makes perfect" was probably the first thing football taught me.
Hard work paid off. I practiced by myself every day after school. All I was thinking then was football even when I was doing my homework. Sometimes I got up at 3:00 am in the morning for a football game. I soon outplayed many schoolmates on football, and as a "shining rising star", I was promoted to be the captain of my class. As my concentration shifted away from academic world, I started having some difficult times coping with my school works. My parents didn't really pay attention to my progress in football, but they surely noticed that my grade was dropping. My mom had a conversation with me one night. It ended with the huge sound. In the following 2 years, I gradually found the balance between study and sports even though I screwed a little bit on my high school entrance test.
I'm still dreaming to be a professional player even though I realize it's barely possible to achieve, and becoming a college player is probably more realistic. Sometimes I ask myself what football gives me. It defines dream for me and gives me passion, determination, relaxation, and very importantly a material for my essay. However, the most important one is that it gives me nothing. This nothing motivates me to do everything. Football is a helium balloon. It rises as time elapses. I'm chasing after it by climbing a giant ladder. As I go up, I encounter different problems, and I try to learn and then solve it so that I can keep going. As I go up, I see a bigger picture of what's down there. I keep going day after day because I want to grow stronger and pursue different goals. In fact, I can't see the balloon anymore. Maybe it's too far ahead, or it ran out of helium and fell long time ago. I don't know, but I enjoy this journey.
I really want to know if I succeed to tell the reader how the event influenced me and what kind of person I truly am.
i kinda ended badly. Do you guys have any idea how to end my essay?
" At least try once. We don't know." " We don't need to. You show no talents and you are too old." " How do you know? You never play with me. I can work really hard. I can practice 10 hours a day, mom." "Stop trying. You know you can't practice 10 hours a day. You will hurt yourself. Just drop it ok?" " How come..." "No, I'm done talking with you. Do what you are supposed to do right now." Mom went back to her room and slammed the door. My request was rejected, but she was the one who got pissed off.
Is there anything better than football? I really want to say no, but there is no Utopia in real life. For many reasons I couldn't become a professional player, and as a student I have to concern more about my school works, which are the thing that my parents think I'm supposed to do, instead of dreaming to be a player. In fact, I love studying. I 'm passionate about science, reading and pondering over complicated questions, but I just feel like playing football has been giving me something else since the first time I touched it.
I remember my grandpa is my first football teacher. The first time my grandpa took me to a park he threw me a ball on the ground, I intuitively picked up the ball and threw it back by hands. I didn't know I was supposed to kick it. My grandpa told me that at the end of my first "practice", I said football was boring. However, I almost played football with my grandpa every day since that, and I did showed some talents. I became a primary school student a year later. I would never go to that school if I were the one who made the decision because there is no soccer field in that school. Nothing is related to football in that school indeed. Since none of my classmates were interested in football, I lost track of it for six years. Fortunately, I went to a middle school with a football field and a school team. I remembered when my friends asked me to play football with them, I was too shy to go because I didn't want to tell them that the last time I played football was 6 years ago. They did laughed at my awful skills. I felt quite upset that day, not because I was teased by my friends, but because six years' not playing football wasn't persuasive enough to be the reason that I put football into oblivion. "Practice makes perfect" was probably the first thing football taught me.
Hard work paid off. I practiced by myself every day after school. All I was thinking then was football even when I was doing my homework. Sometimes I got up at 3:00 am in the morning for a football game. I soon outplayed many schoolmates on football, and as a "shining rising star", I was promoted to be the captain of my class. As my concentration shifted away from academic world, I started having some difficult times coping with my school works. My parents didn't really pay attention to my progress in football, but they surely noticed that my grade was dropping. My mom had a conversation with me one night. It ended with the huge sound. In the following 2 years, I gradually found the balance between study and sports even though I screwed a little bit on my high school entrance test.
I'm still dreaming to be a professional player even though I realize it's barely possible to achieve, and becoming a college player is probably more realistic. Sometimes I ask myself what football gives me. It defines dream for me and gives me passion, determination, relaxation, and very importantly a material for my essay. However, the most important one is that it gives me nothing. This nothing motivates me to do everything. Football is a helium balloon. It rises as time elapses. I'm chasing after it by climbing a giant ladder. As I go up, I encounter different problems, and I try to learn and then solve it so that I can keep going. As I go up, I see a bigger picture of what's down there. I keep going day after day because I want to grow stronger and pursue different goals. In fact, I can't see the balloon anymore. Maybe it's too far ahead, or it ran out of helium and fell long time ago. I don't know, but I enjoy this journey.