Novel & Cerita Memoir About Sports

"I hate sports. Michael loves sports, especially baseball. He has it on all the time. I just never got the point, really. I mean, grown men chasing around some ball with a stick. And being grossly overpaid to do it." She took another sip of the horrible coffee while Bobby suppressed a grin. "I've met a few professional athletes in my line of work." She looked at him for emphasis. "Obviously I can't name names, but I've always found them to be spoiled, entitled ego-maniacs." The boyish grin spread across Bobby's face. "You know, cher, if you feel strongly about something, you should just say it," he quipped. "Don't hold back."

I kicked the air as my teammates lifter I and our captain Harry's up dancing and rejoicing. "Guess, I will still be in the team coach ?" I asked and he smiled and saluted, motioning for us to meet the press after taking pictures with the golden cup and medals around our neck. This will make my 34th medal. Guess, I need a bigger shoe glass. "How do you feel today especially in correlation with the recent scandal about your being gay?" The sports reporter asked. "That's the whole point, being gay doesn't stop you from achieving what you dream of and I hope someone out there is motivated to do what you love with all honesty!"

We appreciate you letting us know. “I thought you should know because it's a very important aspect of my identity. Actually, that's the subject of the book I mentioned last night. It's kind of a memoir about my time in recovery and the events that led to my addiction. Oh, I'm sure it's going to be a fantastic read. "So writing helped you a lot?" he asked. Travis was curious, so he asked.

DISCLAIMER THIS WOULD BE THE MOST HORRIBLE DESCRIPTION OF AMERICAN FOOTBALL YOU'D EVER SEE. I WAS GOING TO USE ANOTHER SPORT, BUT I DO NOT KNOW ANY SPORTS, AND THE EMPHASIS IS ON THE FACT THAT I AM JUST A WRITER WHO SITS AT THE BACK OF A COMPUTER ALL DAY WITH NO REAL HOBBIES OR INTEREST IN ANYTHING THAT MAKES YOU SWEATY. That being said, enjoy this description with no details.

"No." Nobody on this team knew that. I knew that instinctively — the careful way he'd said it, the specific quality of something being said out loud for the first time. Cole Whitmore who fought for a living, who was called animal and machine and weapon in the sports press, who had spent eleven years building himself into something impenetrable. Used to draw buildings from memory. I nodded slowly. Filed it somewhere careful, somewhere it wouldn't get dropped. "I'd like to see that," I said. "Someday. If you ever start again."

“And I’ve seen so many things. Bad things. Things that I would hate for you to see in your lifetime, but if you want to follow in my footsteps and I hope that you don’t want to be a special correspondent - the type of journalism that I’ve cursed myself into. But, I’ve seen so many dark things, things so dark that…well put it this way. I’m taking a break. I’m proud of your Mom for finding her foot in life and not worrying about her goals and aspirations. If anything mines the complete opposite, I’m thinking of taking and a break, and you never know, I might even become a sports writer.” I threw my hands up in the air, “Sports? Is that the only thing that people are willing to read these days?

I looked at him as he spoke. I tried to think back to an event that looked like that. It took a while of juggling my memory, but then I remembered. It was a lot, because memories that I had kept hidden started to rush back. It was around the time that mum died so, I didn't want to remember what had happened then. So I had decided to be a little indifferent about them. “I think I can remember something like that.” “Yeah. That was my dad.” “What?” I exclaimed. Yeah. He had told me about his dad before. How could I not have been able to figure out that was him. I mean, it was rare for a particular scandal like that to happen to players.

I don't like it because I can't stop reminiscing about the past, and our late movie nights are part of those memories I want to forget. We got inside the mall in a hurry, and I couldn't deny I loved the feeling when we got inside the sports shop. Zach walked into the next aisle while I tried calming my nerves. I could feel the excitement, and I smiled when I gazed at the football equipment before me, even if I felt a pang in my chest as I realized how much I missed playing the game. I acknowledged that I had given up my dream, and I couldn't stop feeling stupid as I realized this was the second time I had given up something important in my life.

He was wearing shoes; there was no way he could be that silent, even on grass. “I was trained from an early age. I don’t have many memories that don’t involve weapons, or intense, and specific education or..” He swallowed. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to get me to open up by sharing or if he was genuine, but I didn’t care; it didn’t matter. I wished he would just stop.

I had almost stopped reading at the end of the sentence but something drew my eyes to the rest of his bio. I love to watch sports. I’m a big fan of football and baseball and I bleed blue for my Miami Bluejays! A short spout of elation shot up from my stomach and into my chest. Sports fan. Bluejays fan. At least that meant we would have something to talk about on the date. I had been on a few quiet dates and they were always awful to write about. Not that they ever went well, but silently and awkwardly looking down at your plate the whole time doesn’t exactly make for riveting blog material, even when the guy is a total train wreck—as they almost always were.