Rhyan White Dr.

Dietel-McLaughlin Multimedia Writing & Rhetoric 30 August 2012 Audio Narrative Essay Not Just a Water Polo Player Gather round girls, rang through the natatorium. It was time, and we circled up to introduce ourselves. Name after name, inside joke after inside joke, and giggle after giggle. I had finally realized what I had gotten into. I was trying out for a team with girls who were more talented than me and knew each other like sisters. I wanted to turn back, but trying out for the Midwest regional water polo team was my dream. In the locker room my nerves started to get the best of me and I dragged my bag out onto the pool deck and slumped behind a lane to start my warm-up. Swimming usually allowed me to clear my head, but so many thoughts of self-doubt flowed through my mind. Youre not good enough. Youll never make the team. EGG BEATER DRILLS GIRLS! and the tryouts began, only three hours to lunch. Passing drills! two more hours. Shooting drills! Last hour. Struggling to keep up the whole time, I had finally made lunch hour. The next three hours and the next day of tryouts dragged on the same way, but it finally ended. The days following I suffered from extreme soreness and a minor depression. I knew I hadnt made the team because I simply was not as good as the other girls. One email. It changed my life. I had made the team. I should have been happy, but as I scrolled down the email I read that no one was cut because they needed more girls for a second team. I had 7 months to fill a

space that I wasnt sure wanted to fill. I just was not good enough, and I was not ready to face it every weekend. 7 months later it was time for Nationals and I felt more confident about my skills, but I wasnt sure if I wanted to go to Florida. I had my doubts, but the flights were arranged and the hotel was booked. I flew with my dad separate from the team so that I would not have to miss school that Friday, and that just made the tension between me and the other girls even worse. They had already tie-dyed their shirts and started playing games by the time I arrived. I had come too far to let this get me down so I dyed my shirt and joined the game. Without the stress of practice the girls seemed so much friendlier and I thought I really bonded with the team. I woke up the next morning and got dressed for our 7 oclock game. Goggles. Towel. Check. Swimsuit. Water Bottle. Check. I was ready to go. I was anxious during the car ride. I didnt know what to expect. Were the other girls bigger than me? Were they faster than me? Did my skill level even compare to theirs? All I could do was wait and see. We arrived, suited up and lined up at the edge of the warm-up pool. We did a couple laps and a few drills, and it was time for the game to begin. The coach picked his starting seven and I avoided eye contact hoping that he would not pick me. I watched the game and was frightened by the other teams skill. The first quarter passed, and then the second, and then I was forced to give up my warm spot on the bench for a spot in the pool. I wasnt ready, but I dove in and the icy water raised Goosebumps on every inch of my skin as I shivered over to my spot, the whistle was blown, and the quarter began. My mind went blank. Everything that we had learned seemed like a distant memory. I mindlessly swam from one side of the pool to the other, and the coach called a substitution, only 3 minutes into the

quarter and substituted me. This same thing happened in the next quarter, and even in the next game. I knew I didnt belong on this team. I was just the girl they needed to fill the space. Later that night I had dinner with my dad. He told me that the game was really good, and that I wasnt as bad as I thought. We talked game play and strategy and he sounded confident in me, he thought I could do it, and if he believed in me I had to believe in me too. Tomorrow would be a new day with a new me and I was ready to give it all I had. The same routine followed the next day. I sat on the bench for the first quarter, and the second, but this time would be different. The third quarter I jumped in the pool and raced to the other end, played as hard as I could and within the last minute, on defense, I made a steal. I had made a steal! I swam the ball down the pool passed it to a teammate and we scored! I helped to tie the game. The quarter ended and the coach pulled us together for a team huddle. Rhyan, good steal. Way to be there, he announced, and everyone applauded and cheered, and for the first time I felt that I was a part of the team. I played the whole fourth quarter too, and even though we lost it was a victory for me. I wasnt just a water polo player anymore; I was a Midwest regional water polo player.