One bead of sweat splashes across the newspaper headline. Still dressed in full football pads, I sit alone in the journalism computer lab, editing copy a few minutes before 9 p.m. Three hours after football practice, my cleats, untied, remain stuck on my feet and I have barely even made a dent in the stack of pages I have to edit.
When I was chosen to be Editor-in-Chief, my staff and the graduating seniors widely assumed I would quit football. The EIC rarely plays a sport, let alone one so demanding. There was no way I could pull off both, my staff said. It's too much; they're too different.
But these polar differences keen my interest. Not only does the mixture add a variety to my routine, but it also stretches me in opposite directions, forcing me to reach goals I would never have otherwise.
And while the distinctions between the two entice me, the unlikely similarities undoubtedly shape me. Journalism and football require so much of me, and although one entails intellectual adeptness while the other necessitates primal instincts, both subject me to me to a pressure that leaves little leeway for mistakes--forcing me to operate this balancing act to near flawlessness.
This focused demand for perfection helps to consistently rank our paper at the top of the nation. My staff members and I spend hours evenly spacing designs, correcting grammar mistakes and making hundreds of other alterations that most will consider trivial. And when I toe the line against an opponent who greatly outweighs me on a Friday night, it is this same focused demand for perfection that separates me from the average football player. While perfection may not be attainable in my future, I know this pursuit will always keep me in the lab later, on the field longer or reaching further toward my goals.
Sitting in the solitary darkness of the lab gives me plenty of opportunity to wade through such thoughts. I stay in my home away from home for a few more minutes until a school custodian walking down to his car sees, from the corner of his eye, a glimpse of the last light on campus. He opens the door and it is clear from his expression that I have overstayed my welcome.
Practice is long over. My work in the lab is done for the time being. Now, it's time to start my homework.
Angle, Mark. "Football and Journalism" StudyNotes.org. Study Notes, LLC., 10 Oct. 2013. Web. 13 Mar. 2018. <https://www.apstudynotes.org/common-app/football-and-journalism/>.
My Experience with Football Essay
1487 Words6 Pages
For as long as I can remember football has been a part of my life in some way, shape, or form. When I was first born my grandfather said that I was solid and built to play football. I used to throw the football with my mother when I was a toddler and she always told me that when I tried to tackle her I hit really hard. My first organized football experience was when I was five. I had just moved to Manassas, VA from Washington, D.C. in 1994. It was around fall and that was right at the beginning of football season in the area. I remember telling my mother that I wanted to play, so she looked for a local organization for children. She came across the Greater Manassas Football League (GMFL) and that is where I began to play the game I…show more content…
I can remember two plays vividly. The first was when I played fullback. It was third and long which is more times than not a passing situation, but this time the coach put his faith in me to make the first down. I remember getting the hand off and was running to the left. I got through the hole and saw a defender. I lowered my shoulder and ran over him, but I wasn’t to the first down yet. All of a sudden there were four people on me and I had my mind made up that I wasn’t going to let my team down, so I kept my legs driving carrying people and finally made it to the first down. Right there I knew that I could be a great player. The second play was a defensive play. The opposing team was up by three points and time was running out. The coach yelled from the sideline “We need a play,” so I took it upon myself to be the playmaker. The ball was snapped, it was a toss to my left. I saw the running back sprinting out and I took my pursuit angle. I met him head up and he started to go down and in the back of my mind I heard my coach’s voice and that made me do something I had never done. I stripped the ball out of his hand and ran for a touchdown. My team won. The next phase of my football career was about to begin now, middle school. I didn’t play my sixth grade year, because I needed to give my body a rest, so I came out the next year. I was linebacker and my number changed again this time to 55. There’s not much that I remember