Essay by whitdogCollege, Undergraduate April 2004

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I have grown up playing soccer since I was five years old and never had I played in front of a crowd that I got to play in when I went on my trip to Guadalajara Mexico. At the age of sixteen I earned a starting position as right fullback for the under nineteen squad, AGSS (American Global Soccer School.) I had been playing for the team three months by now and had a pretty good idea as to how the system of the team was working. We entered the tournament and went through our first three games with little trouble. We finished in our pool of teams first place and ended up having to face the home team in the first round/quarter finals of the playoffs, which is never a good thing.

The name of the team was Chivas (which means goats in English.) Not a very intimidating name if you ask me but what was intimidating about their team was the crowd that they had brought with them.

They came with hundreds upon hundreds of fans who came with their drums, horns, flags, whatever they could bring to support their team. Their whole sideline was full of roaring fans in all red and white (the team colors) while our team had maybe ten people at most wearing suits, supporting us with only their simple words of encouragement. It seemed so unfair. It was almost like David going up against Goliath, the small versus the big, the strong versus the weak. I was scared.


The game was ready to start I was in my position among the other twenty-one great athletes on the field ready to play. The referee blew the whistle and I could see the home fans flags waving in the air, hear the horns...