Novel & Cerita Memoir About Sports

sports? Moses had mentioned football once—absently, like a passing dream. Fiero had been eyeing the basketball court again. Joy didn’t need confirmation—she knew that look. The lazy tilt of his head during sports highlights, the quiet tap of his fingers when someone mentioned tryouts. It was instinct, muscle memory. Stupid, deadly longing. And she was done watching it happen. The House Six common room was warm and chaotic, as usual—Moses and Mika arguing over something that may or may not have involved explosives, Miriam curled in the corner with a sketchbook, Samuel loudly narrating a cereal commercial to no one.

So I wore a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, took my headphones and left the house. I loathed running. I didn’t like sport at all, but okay. Yeah, sport is great for health. Health is the greatest blessing people have and bla bla bla. But I liked reading more. Imagine, sitting at home, reading with a cup of coffee or tea. It’s the only thing I would do for the rest of my life.

I carefully raised his hand and pulled out the newspaper from his grip. “Wow!” I exclaimed as soon as I opened the first page of the newspaper. The newspaper was literally about sports. It has been a long time since I did sports with a group of people. It has always been me alone, working out in the sports room in the mansion, and when I get fed up with the house, I go jogging in the street. As I flipped the pages of the newspaper it reminded me of my days in high school and college when the boys had football clubs and played against each other. It was fun then, real fun and I enjoyed every bit of the game even though one would say I wasn't such a good player.

"I've never met anyone quite as, well, gentlemanly as you. I was curious where it came from." "So you figured out who my parents are, I guess." "I write sports stories for a living. Researching the players is sort of second nature to me." He pauses for a minute, then turns his whole body, mimicking my position.

I was reporting on the soccer game with a friend and I was pretending to be reporting live and talking to someone in an imaginary studio. The accident was so bad that they had to rush him to hospital , when he came out of the Operation room he was fine . Hell we even talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up. I didn't know what I wanted to do then but I think I was ten years old when I discovered my love for all things sports and media.

"I really don't remember any of this." "We clicked Max. Like really clicked." His hand stopped tapping and moved to rub his face. "You were funny and easy to talk to and you didn't care that I was a hockey player and you played basketball. You said something about how training partners were important no matter what sport and that we should practice together sometime." That did sound like something I would say but I still couldn't remember it and that was terrifying. "But why don't I remember? That's not something I would just forget."

She turned her face towards him and smiled, “its okay, I understand” “You see; I was not actually born this way, just an accident I had when I was younger”, he continued. “The thing is, I was one very active sportsman in junior high school”, he chuckled. “So young and vibrant, I wanted to do everything and be everywhere", he giggled as he recalled old memories. "So one of those days, we were preparing rigorously for a competition when it happened. We had just finished with our practice that evening, we trained till late evening because of the importance to do very well in the competition", Steve continued.

It’s like if all of my aggravations vanished. “What’s the matter?” “Do you recall the athlete I was referring to when I was a kid?” My brows furrowed in response to her query. Of course, I do remember him. How could I say no if she insisted on me saving money so I could buy that athlete’s wife’s merchandise? Not to mention the numerous invitations she sent me to either watch or attend the game. I let out a sigh. Please don’t tell me she cried over some boring news about them.

Yeah sure, we don't have many people, so you'll be quite helpful. "I won't be so sure about it. I am more of a sports guy." "Really ?" "Football. I played in the university tournament too." This time I was genuinely surprised. It's hard to forget a guy like him. But then again, remembering certain gleaming golden eyes, it sounds way too possible. "You are just a first year. then how--" "Sports scholarships. They needed a player and coincidentally I was there." "Astraea!! a little help here." Miranda shouted. He smiled." Well, you should go. It was nice meeting you Astraea."

The requirements this year are even more demanding than they were last year. The competition is going to be fierce. I slowly lower my phone, my heart growing heavier. Everything I’ve worked so hard for, that I’ve dreamed about, and hoped to achieve. Suddenly feels farther away than ever. Sports journalism isn’t just another career to me. It’s the dream I’ve held onto ever since college. Ever since I first held a microphone and interviewed athletes during college competitions, I knew this is what I wanted to do. I love the excitement, the stories behind every game.