Essay by Anonymous UserJunior High, 7th gradeA+, October 1996

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As I stood at the three point line, the ball seemed to be in slow

motion. Screams from the crowd came as the ball dropped through the

net. Not only did this shot go in but it dropped through the net with

such force that it made a sound that was heard throughout the gym. The

gym was packed and the fans were on their feet, I had just hit my first

three pointer of my varsity basketball career. As our team set up the

press, sweat dripped from my face. I was close enough to kiss my

opponent, there was no way he was going to get the ball. He shoved me

backward and he planted his foot on mine, he then pushed off and ran for

the inbounder. I fell back a few feet and sprinted towards my man. As

the inbounder released the ball with a firm push I stuck my hand out in

hopes for a steal, SNAP! As the ball was deflected towards the right my

man ran and picked it up.

I quickly looked down at my finger and with

fear and I pain walked over to my bench. My pinkie-finger on my right

hand was at a ninety degree ankle, as sweat dripped down may face I

could feel myself getting hot. My stomach seemed to drop and I was

feeling as if I was on a roller coaster. The game had been stopped and

I was brought into the coach's room. My assistant coach led me into the

room and sat me down on a wooden chair. I began to feel very cold, and

my finger began to have a shooting pain. This pain was not present

before and was not making itself known that there was something wrong


My parents...