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When I was eight years old, I fell in love with the sport basketball. I loved the satisfaction you got from making a basket, and I loved the way it felt to win a game. It was the first time I had really felt competitive. As the season progressed, I learned new skills and enjoyed it even more. One week, I had a basketball practice where we learned a new skill called “boxing out.” it’s where you get under the basket when a shot goes up and get your defender behind you so you can rebound the ball. I had a slight advantage in basketball because I was taller than most people. One year we won all of our basketball games but had one more until we were in the championship game.

I remember being so nervous about that game because if we lost we might not have been able to get into the championship game. As the week went on, and the game got closer, I started to worry more. What was their team going to be like? Was I going to be too nervous to think during the game? I felt like a bomb squad member who didn’t know whether or not to cut the red wire. When the day finally got there, I knew I was going to have to set aside my fears and play basketball. When I got to the game, I saw the other team practicing.

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They looked REALLY good. I started to get nervous all over again. I realized I just needed to calm down. As the final moments passed before the game, you could hear the crowd counting down as if to taunt me. 3-2-1… The whistle blew and the game began. DribbaDribbaDribba… Swoosh! Chaska had just scored on us. “The score is now 2-0,” declared the announcer. Boing, DribbaDribbaDribba… Swoosh! We had just scored on Chaska.  “The score is now 2-2.” and on it went, back and forth, just like that.

DribbaDribbaDribba… Swoosh! “2-4.” DribbaDribbaDribba… Swoosh! “4-4,” until the score was 26-24, Chaska. With 10 seconds left on the clock, I didn’t think we were going to make it. 10-9-8… sprinting down the court with the ball in my possession. 7-6-5-4… As I neared the three-point line I realized the only way to win this game was to go for a three. 3-2-1… I released the ball and watched it fly through the air as if in slow motion. My heart was beating out of my chest. Woosh… BONK. I saw as it bounced around the hoop. BONK… BONK… BONK… THUD. It crashed onto the ground in front of me. I couldn’t believe it. I had missed it. A sudden feeling of doubt came down on me as if a one-million-pound weight had fallen on me and crushed me. There was no way we were going to make it into the championship all because I had missed one shot. I knew that if I had made one simple decision to go for the layup instead of the three we could have gone into overtime and had a chance. As we shook hands I felt a lump in my stomach.

I knew I probably cost our team the rest of our season. The next few weeks came by in a flash. We had a few more basketball practices so that we could get ready for the third-place game. We had practice after practice, and then the day came for our last practice. At the end of our practice, the coach surprised us with something. He asked if everyone was going to be at the championship game. Everyone seemed confused. Then he told us. Turns out the other team hadn’t won enough games to get into the championship. And since we had only lost one, that meant we were next in line. Everyone was super excited. When the game finally got there, I felt nervous all over again. Then I remembered how much good THAT did me last time. The game started and we got the ball. Swipe. They steal the ball. Swish. The first point of the game.

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Essay: Basketball Changed My Life.
(2024, January 30). Edubirdie. Retrieved February 4, 2024, from

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