Rebuilt by Alec

Rebuilt by Alec - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

During the summer of 2016 my teammates and I spent hours in our weight room, preparing for the football season ahead. This was my senior year, and a lot was riding on this season. I had to be on top of my game. I’ve been dreaming of playing college football since fifth grade, so much so that it could determine my academic future and where I go to college.

The second game of the year was against a team ranked second in state, but our team was ready for the challenge. Immediately they scored a touchdown and the score was seven to zero, but we knew how to battle adversity. We marched down the field. Our quarterback threw the ball to me and I scored, causing us to tie right before halftime. Our team was ecstatic because we were holding our own and competing with them.

We came out of the locker room pumped, ready to take the second half and win this game. We got the ball and made our way down the field. During the third play I got the ball. I had a wide open lane and I went for it, running as fast as I possibly could. Suddenly it felt as if a hammer hit me in the back of the thigh. I went to the sidelines, and collapsed on the ground. Everyone was in shock as the trainers ran over, because I wasn’t touched by any other player. One of the trainers felt around my leg, and I heard the words, “You tore your hamstring.”

I felt three kinds of pain right then: physical pain, emotional pain, and the pain of seeing my future athletic career in ruins. It hurt more than any other pain I have felt in my life. My heart was tearing for my brothers on the field that I wouldn’t be able to play with for a long time. I was letting them down. I felt as if my world had been turned completely around; I thought I would never play the game I love again. We lost the game. My teammates came to me to see if I was okay. I learned that even though I was in a lot of pain, my teammates looked up to me and I had to be strong and show them that I’m fine so they don't have to worry about me being hurt. No matter what there will always something more important than yourself.

I was referred to physical therapy immediately. Thinking that I wouldn’t be better by the end of the season, I didn’t see the point of going, but I went in optimism that it will still help in any way it can. In my meeting with the trainer, he pushed and pulled my leg in all different directions and had me do some exercises to test its strength. “This is a pretty bad one,” he said, and thought to myself, “I knew it, I won't play again.” The next words that he said I can hear now, “You should be back in three weeks.” butterflies start to flutter in my stomach as jolt up in amazement “Really? Three weeks?” I couldn’t wait to work on getting better. I finally had hope that my football career would not be over. Three times a week for two hours I went to therapy. I made sure to do every stretch and exercise in order to get better. On the third week of physical therapy, I learned that I was released to play. I showed up to practice fully geared and ready to go.

During my rehabilitation I realized I wanted to be a physical therapist. Maybe other high schoolers like me have dreams of being a higher-level athlete; I could be the one to help those injured athletes get back to their sport and back on the path toward their dreams. After high school I’m not sure if I will ever be able to be apart of a team or do any sort of athletics, but as long as I can be apart of an athlete’s recovery my life will be fulfilled.