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Pick up a Basketball
I believe when life gets tough, we should all pick up a basketball.
It was mid-July, and my friends and I were hanging around at the local park. This was nothing new, as we had been coming to the park for years, but lately it was starting to fall apart. Ripped nets, broken benches, cracks on the court, and backboards that looked like they would shatter at any moment. It was irrelevant to us; we just loved shooting hoops while the blazing sun pounded our backs. It was just the eight of us, as usual. We’ve all been friends for a while, but lately our group began to distance themselves from each other and though no one wanted to say it, it looked like our group was slowly deteriorating.
Then, as us eight teenage boys stood there playing basketball, with sweat pouring down are faces, one of my friends tripped the other. What seemed to my friend, as a little practicall joke did not go well with the other, and a massive fight started. Soon everyone joined. Fists flying, punches thrown, and kicks to the stomach. This little fight began to look like a war. Before anyone realized, we split into two groups, four a piece, as if we were two separate gangs about to engage in a brawl.
Finally, the fighting started to relax, but the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and four of my friends decided to leave. The other four, including me, sat there on a bench, which, looked as if it was older than we were. It was weird for me. I couldn’t understand how this was happening, the three friends I was sitting with just sat there, continuing on with their lives as if nothing was happening. I found this astonishing, I was in disbelief, how could I be the only one who truly cared?
This was it. My group of eight boys, best friends since kindergarten, were about to break up.
Then suddenly, it happened. Out of nowhere, as if that little voice inside of me told me what to do, I meaninglessly began to dribble and shoot the basketball, when my life changed. Before I knew it, one friend joined in, then another, then another, and in less than a minute, the eight of us were back playing basketball. We were high fiving each other, laughing, smiling, acting as if it was once again kindergarten and we were as close as ever.
A few minutes later I sat down, watching my friends continue to play. I sat there with a mesmerized grin on my face as if I just concocted some sort of evil plan. I realized that in about two months, this would be forgottem completely by all of my friends, but not by me. At that exact moment, I knew this was something I would never forget. This was the day I learned, that when life gets tough, pick up a basketball.
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This article has 16 comments.
This is fabulous. As a former grader of the AP Exam for Language Arts, this is truly a contender for the top papers I have read. Your voice that you have established here is fabulous! I truley recommend you becoming some sort of writer in the future, because I am sure you will be a success. Best of Luck!!
Regards,
AP Lang Professor/Grader