In junior high I was looking forward to being able to do sports. After finding out that I couldn't play sports until I was in seventh grade I got kind of mad but waited it out and when the first day of school started so did my volleyball try outs. I came to school not excited, for the first time in my life, to being going back to school but because I was going to be on the volleyball team. I mean I hadn't made the team but I wasn't thinking about that. I just told myself that I was going to make the team and then when volleyball was over I was going to go try out for the basketball team and then tennis and track. I was determined to be on the "A" team of all the sports that the school offered. Well volleyball try outs came and went I made the "A" team and was perfectly happy.
We weren't great but I didn't care about that. All I cared about was for me to be good or at least try and look my best when I played. Well two weeks after volleyball ended basketball tryouts started. I made the "A" team for basketball too. So far my goal was coming true. There was no "A' team or "B" team for tennis, but I made the tennis team and that was great. We had tryouts before Christmas break and we would start back up a month and a half after we got back from Christmas break. Well during Christmas break I broke my wrist and arm in two places, so even though I was on the team I couldn't play in any tournaments. It was really annoying to see everyone else enjoying themselves but I couldn't. Tennis season was finally over and track season was finally in gear I was still in a cast so I could run but I couldn't do anything else. Well that was fine with me as long as I was on the team. Only problem was that when I went to the doctor to get my arm checked and see if I could get the cast off or good I found out that my wrist and arm had set all wrong and that the next day I was going to have to go back get my arm broken again and get it reset and another cast for longer and even worse is that he told me that I couldn't do anything involving sports. Meaning no track. By this time I was pretty angry. So I went back the next day. The put me under and broke my wrist and arm again, put another cast on and sent me on my way still drugged. I went to school the next day still feeling pretty loopy gave the coach the bad news and went to my next period class. Sure I had a bunch of fun while I could but I was so sad. Oh, well life goes on is all my dad would say to me. That and get the heck over it. By that time I wanted to go crazy. I wanted to go crazy. I wanted go outside and bounce a volleyball around. About a month after school ended I had to go to the doctor again. I told how much my left knee had been hurting me while he was replacing my cast with a new one. After he finished the cast he took X-Rays of me entire left legs. He did painful movements of my knee. He told me to come back in a week. When I came back he did more X-Rays and did more very painful things. He gave me this huge knee brace and said that I was going to be scheduled for the first of three painful and tiring knee surgeries. I had three surgeries in the space of two months and was put in a wheel chair. I started eighth grade on crutches and there was no hope of me doing sports anytime soon. I couldn't do sports my freshman year in high school and I skipped my sophomore year so I had not time to do sports in my junior year. My knee still hurts and I still remember that year vividly and I always tell myself that it was my "enjoyable" year.