Scott Hoyland

Multimedia Writing and Rhetoric

Narrative Script
1/30/15
Professor Bain-Conkin
Fourteen Words
I am going to be angry at you for a long time for this. That was the last thing my coach
said to me. I was horrified of this sentence because I had never had an adult truly angry at me
before. I was always that kid who didnt get detentions and followed the rules to the letter. These
words were, from then on, stamped into my brain and I will never forget them. That was a
turning point in my life and, although these words had hurt me, they also drove me to become
the best person that I could be.
I began playing football when I was eight, along with about four other sports, just like
many kids my age. It was never a huge part of my life until high school, though. In high school,
the intensity and amount of practice increased to the level of a part time job. However, in
between seasons, I did have more available time and in the spring of my freshman year, I
started something new. I, a football player, tried out for my schools spring musical. I made the
cut and performed in my first musical that year. This trend continued until my junior year of high
school. Realizing that I never was really in love with football, I did something that changed my
life completely. I quit.
I had experienced enough. At the end of every season I would just wish that it would all
be over so I didnt have to suffer through it anymore. So, I planned to take all of my equipment
out of my locker and go away quietly. I never was very good at confrontation, and I thought that
telling my coach I was leaving would be too difficult for me. I didnt want to do it. I had planned
to go into the locker room about a half of an hour after an offseason weight training practice
started. I believed that everybody would be in the weight room already and that the locker room

would be clear. I grasped the door handle to the locker room, hoping to get in and out as quickly
as possible. I pushed open the door. As soon as the first light slipped through the crack between
the door and the wall, I heard the roar of the strength and conditioning coach. I stopped in my
tracks. He was rattling off cadences for stretching, 1, 2, 3. I was shocked. Nobody was
supposed to be in the locker room but I came too early. My heart was racing and I didnt know
what to do. At that point, it was too late to leave. The door was open, and people had already
seen me. Suddenly, I heard the voice of another player saying, Hurry up and get ready. Youre
late. I walked past everybody as fast as I could manage, but it still felt like hours. The
equipment room was to my right and I remember the managers staring at me as I hurried past. I
walked up to the coach, put on my bravest face, and said, Coach, I need to talk to you, in your
office.
My coach and I went into his office. He closed the door, and I told him. Coach, this is
the end, I am not coming back to play football next year. His eyes filled with a violent mixture of
anger and surprise. My heart is no longer in it, coach. I dont believe that this is for me
anymore, I explained. He looked back at me and asked if there was any problem with the other
coaches or players. I said to him that there werent any but that was not entirely true. I had a
problem with the entire culture of my high school football team. The truth is that the coaches
attempted to demean the players to get us to play harder. They would yell things at us, such as
be a man. They did this so much that we, as players, would ignore injuries in an attempt to
appear tough and please them. It would have been different if they had emphasized discipline,
something that can be transferred into other parts of life, but the coaches bred a culture full of
the fear of inadequacy.
Full of the reminder of why I did not love playing football, I told him again that I wasnt
coming back to play football in my senior year. In one sentence that has shaped my life since,
he said, I am going to be angry at you for a long time for this. My cheeks turned a deep red
from embarrassment. I dropped my gaze. I couldnt look him in his eyes out of a false sense of

shame. I was losing my nerve so I quickly walked out of that office, and I didnt speak to my
coach again.
I had much more available time in the fall now because I didnt have to spend it
practicing. I decided to completely devote myself to the arts at my school. I performed in three
theater productions my senior year and also joined my schools show choir. These activities, and
the people I did them with, made me much happier than football ever did. I truly did feel like a
man performing, because I was not afraid of what others thought of me. I followed my heart and
stood up for my own happiness, which requires a particular type of strength to do, especially at
the age of 17.
That day was the ending of one part of my life so that I could focus on the things I enjoy
more. It was the last day that my heart felt hollow and it led to a time of happiness. That day left
a one sentence mark on my soul. My coach told me he was angry at me for following my heart. I
had met one of my first adversaries in life and I didnt let him dissuade me from my decision. I
proved to myself that I could stand up to those who dont wish me to follow my heart and go
through with it anyway. I remember that sentence very often and every time I do, it drives me to
dedicate more of myself into the things that I truly love.

Music:
symphony #2 Movement IV: Allegro Moderato Jean Sibelius