The honest truth is, I love sports, even though I'm not good at any. Every time my dad or my mom is playing a match, I would always sit in front of the TV in my room and watch it to the end.
[Flashback]
"[Heading down the field is Nathaniel Mckenzie. It's him and the goalkeeper alone. He shoots, and he scores.]"
"GOOOOOOAL!" Daymeonn jumps up and shouts with a smile on his face.
["Nathaniel Mckenzie has done it again. Every time he shows us what a legend he is, every time he shows us why he's a god of football."]
[Now]
Every time my dad or mom scores, their faces light up with a big smile. It's like nothing else matters; it's like the world doesn't exist. I wish, I wish that I could...
*Knock! Knock!* Raheem knocks on his window while sitting outside. "Hey, come on, you did say that we should start training together, so come on. It's already 5:15 AM."
Daymeonn opens the window, climbs out, and then closes it. He jumps down with Raheem.
"Shall we get running?" said Raheem.
They both start to run; the run lasts for 10 minutes straight. They stop at the park at 5:27 AM. While on their way to the park, the skies clear up. When they reach the park, the sun starts to come out.
When they arrive, they don't stop for any rest. Instead, they do some light stretching, like touching their toes and reaching for the sky. After finishing that, they both do 50 push-ups and 40 sit-ups for muscle training.
"Can you teach me the first thing about lacrosse?" Daymeonn asked Raheem.
"Sure, why not?"
"The first thing I can teach you, well, tell you, because I don't have my stick with me, is how to cradle. First off, what is cradle or cradling? It's when a player is in control of the ball and they do not want to lose it or let it fall out of their lacrosse stick. So, they move their hands in a specific way while moving."
"Okay, I get that," said Daymeonn.
"Now, how does one cradle? First, the player must put their dominant hand a few inches under the head of the stick, while their other hand should be placed at the end of the stick. You don't want to have a tight grip on the stick, so loosen it just a little so your wrist can move. Imagine lifting weights; you're going to hold the stick at hip height and bring it up to head height while the ball is in it."
"Really? That sounds like a hassle, too many rules," Daymeonn said while turning around. Raheem grabs his hand, swings him back, and holds him by his shirt.
"What did you say? Say it again."
"I said it sounds like a hassle," he pushes off Raheem's hand. "Don't worry; I will quit. I'm not good at sports anyway."
"Right, that same old excuse. It's getting old, Daymeonn. Just because you tried football, thinking that you can be like your dad and failed, doesn't mean you should look down on other sports."
"I'm not like you; I'm not as bright as you. But at the end of the day, I work my ass off to keep up with you in academics; I try, unlike you," said Raheem.
"Whatever," said Daymeonn.
"It means a lot to me," Raheem replied.
"Huh?"
"I love this sport; I always loved lacrosse and looked up to the players. If you could give it a try, then I know you'd love it too, and then you would try hard."
"It's getting late; we have school in the next two hours. We should go."
"Right."