The Beginning
It’s the last day of middle school for me. Next step, high school. The fresh smells of summer and freedom fills my lungs as I walk out of the school doors. Thoughts of everything I admire about summer run through my head as my friend Jenna Woodruff and I walk to her house to spend the first day of our break together. It’s the perfect weather to end the school year off with, and begin summer break with. Only a few fluffy white clouds are scattered across the bright, light blue sky. It felt as if there wasn’t a worry in the world.
Once we got to Jenna’s house, we went straight to the fridge, grabbing our favorite after school snacks and refreshments. Typically after we eat, we lay down and take an after school cat nap. Just as I begin to doze off, I hear honking from outside the window. I look out to find my mom’s vehicle parked in the rocky driveway outside Jenna’s house. I met my mom at the door. “You’re going to Pompon tryouts, right?” she asks. I glance at her with a confused on my face. “You told your sister you would tryout. She would be let down if you don’t end up going.” she states in a more serious tone of voice. I have decided in my head a few nights ago that I didn’t want to tryout so I could have a laid-back summer and freshman year. Little did I know that I would soon find a deep passion for the sport.
Filled with guilt, I decided to go to the tryouts, but only for my sister. At six o’clock I met a group of 10 girls in the high school cafeteria. There were only two other to-be freshman, Shyanna Rodriguez, and Breanna Clark. I sat with them and talk to them about why they wanted to be on the poms team. Besides us three, there were three other newcomers. The four other girls were returning members. As we sat and anxiously stretched, waiting for instruction, I began to start thinking about how much I didn’t want to be there. Once everyone was done stretching, we all circled up while the new coach started explaining what the next few practices will be like. Afterwards, we got into three lines and began to learn the tryout routine. Eventually the practice got over and I walked back to Jenna’s house. As I walked back to her house, red-faced from all the physical actions we were doing, I was hoping in my head that I didn’t make the cut for making the team. That way I didn’t have to make the team, yet please my sister for at least trying.
The second tryout day out of three came. We kept going over the routine over and over again, digesting every count. Again, I went home with the same desire of not making the team in my head. Soon enough, the official tryout night came.
Six o’clock.
Tennis shoes and gym clothes on.
Waiting.
I felt sick with apprehension, nervous to perform the routine in front of the coach and nine other girls trying out. One by one, each girl completes the routine while being judged by the coach. Finally my turn comes. In the middle of the routine, I completely froze. I was granted a retry. Filled with embarrassment, I decided this time to squint my eyes and hope not to see anybody watching me, causing me to freeze up a second time. I finish the whole routine this time. Subsequently, I wait patiently to be told whether I made the team or not. She takes one person out in the hall at a time to tell them the big news. Megan, one of the 4th year returning members, runs into the cafeteria. “THE REST OF YOU MADE IT!” she yells with enthusiasm. I was then filled with joy, although moments ago I was hoping not to make it. “Maybe I’ll enjoy this.” I think to myself.
The first couple weeks I still had doubts on whether I liked this physically and mentally challenging sport or not, but as time went on, I started developing and a deep passion for it. That year, I became very close with all of my teammates. Not only did I see them as my close friends, but more like family. Eventually we had a second tryout, gaining up three more girls to our family. Although throughout the year there were lots of bumps in road, I made many unforgettable memories and life-long friendships. Reflecting back on the whole nine month season, I wouldn't trade it for anything, even through all the arguments and letdowns. Poms has became more than just a sport to me, but more like a way of life.
Once we got to Jenna’s house, we went straight to the fridge, grabbing our favorite after school snacks and refreshments. Typically after we eat, we lay down and take an after school cat nap. Just as I begin to doze off, I hear honking from outside the window. I look out to find my mom’s vehicle parked in the rocky driveway outside Jenna’s house. I met my mom at the door. “You’re going to Pompon tryouts, right?” she asks. I glance at her with a confused on my face. “You told your sister you would tryout. She would be let down if you don’t end up going.” she states in a more serious tone of voice. I have decided in my head a few nights ago that I didn’t want to tryout so I could have a laid-back summer and freshman year. Little did I know that I would soon find a deep passion for the sport.
Filled with guilt, I decided to go to the tryouts, but only for my sister. At six o’clock I met a group of 10 girls in the high school cafeteria. There were only two other to-be freshman, Shyanna Rodriguez, and Breanna Clark. I sat with them and talk to them about why they wanted to be on the poms team. Besides us three, there were three other newcomers. The four other girls were returning members. As we sat and anxiously stretched, waiting for instruction, I began to start thinking about how much I didn’t want to be there. Once everyone was done stretching, we all circled up while the new coach started explaining what the next few practices will be like. Afterwards, we got into three lines and began to learn the tryout routine. Eventually the practice got over and I walked back to Jenna’s house. As I walked back to her house, red-faced from all the physical actions we were doing, I was hoping in my head that I didn’t make the cut for making the team. That way I didn’t have to make the team, yet please my sister for at least trying.
The second tryout day out of three came. We kept going over the routine over and over again, digesting every count. Again, I went home with the same desire of not making the team in my head. Soon enough, the official tryout night came.
Six o’clock.
Tennis shoes and gym clothes on.
Waiting.
I felt sick with apprehension, nervous to perform the routine in front of the coach and nine other girls trying out. One by one, each girl completes the routine while being judged by the coach. Finally my turn comes. In the middle of the routine, I completely froze. I was granted a retry. Filled with embarrassment, I decided this time to squint my eyes and hope not to see anybody watching me, causing me to freeze up a second time. I finish the whole routine this time. Subsequently, I wait patiently to be told whether I made the team or not. She takes one person out in the hall at a time to tell them the big news. Megan, one of the 4th year returning members, runs into the cafeteria. “THE REST OF YOU MADE IT!” she yells with enthusiasm. I was then filled with joy, although moments ago I was hoping not to make it. “Maybe I’ll enjoy this.” I think to myself.
The first couple weeks I still had doubts on whether I liked this physically and mentally challenging sport or not, but as time went on, I started developing and a deep passion for it. That year, I became very close with all of my teammates. Not only did I see them as my close friends, but more like family. Eventually we had a second tryout, gaining up three more girls to our family. Although throughout the year there were lots of bumps in road, I made many unforgettable memories and life-long friendships. Reflecting back on the whole nine month season, I wouldn't trade it for anything, even through all the arguments and letdowns. Poms has became more than just a sport to me, but more like a way of life.