|
|
Football has always been life around my house. From the time I was 3 years old, I would put on oversized, hand-me-downs of my brothers and “play” football with the older boys in the neighborhood. I have always wanted to play for my father, Jerry. He never pushed me to play football at all; he only wanted me to do what made me happy. He is one of the most respected coaches in Metro Atlanta, and I have always looked up to him. Every day I strive to better myself in hopes of being as respected as my old, gray haired coach that has taught me everything I know. He is easy going off the field, yet his competitiveness strives him to be the best coach on the sideline. This is the characteristic that I have attained most throughout my years of study of my father, on and off the field. Having my father coach my high school football team is an indescribable experience. We share so many memories on the football field that other players could not experience with their fathers. I was able to go to work with him everyday and see first hand the effects of his sacrifices. My father and I have always competed against each other, whether we were playing Yahtzee after dinner on Sunday night or even playing H-O-R-S-E as the sun went down when I was a boy. He has always brought out the best in me by challenged me in school, at home and in athletics. Determined to prove myself to my father, I tried to excel in anything I could be involved in, just to here the four best possible words out of the person I respect most in the world, “I’m proud of you.” He would have been proud of me no matter what I accomplished, but in my head, I had to compete and be the best, not necessarily in his eyes, but in mine. At my high school, Parkview, the coaches picked a couple of ninth graders that were ready to skip ninth grade football and play Junior Varsity and practice with the Varsity. I was lucky enough, along with two of my friends, to be picked to play Junior Varsity.
|
