Sharks' Tale: The Semi Finals

On Wednesday, the Sharks met up with the Eagles at an IIAAG Girls Soccer semifinal match.

I must say--that was one of the scariest and happiest games of my soccer career.

Two of our starters could not make it to the game because their Confirmation was scheduled for that day. Especially with our already-low numbers, that was a blow to our confidence.

We started the game at a "low point", with a "sad attitude" as Coach Canos put it. Obviously, that meant that we played at a low level.

Harvest scored first this time. Heather Thompson knocked one in from a breakaway. It severely damaged our confidence. For me, it increased my anger and desire to score.

We got Harvest back when I received a cross from Asha. I pushed the ball past the goalie and crossed it to Virlynn. She was all alone near the opposite side of the goal. In the nanoseconds watching my cross, I hoped with all my heart that she would touch it in.

She did. We all started screaming, and the crowd went wild. The goal had given us hope. At that moment, I knew we were going to win. We had just needed a little push.

Sadly, Harvest scored again. Our team wasn't looking too good after that. We were falling apart. It was a good thing that it was halftime.

The coaches and captains had their talks. It was all about our attitudes. We were afraid. We were afraid that we wouldn't be playing that 6:30 game on Saturday. (The third place game is at 4:30, and Coach Lunod hates 4:30 games.) Our coaches and captains calmed our fears. We had nothing to be afraid of. We had beaten Harvest before. We knew we were the better team. Everyone knew. We just had to play our game.

We did exactly that.

After a mishap in Harvest's box, I vollied a shot into the top right corner. We got our momentum going. Later, I headed in a beautiful cross from Regina. We kept our momentum going. If you're keepin track, the Sharks were up 3-2 at this point.

After I made that last goal, Coach Canos put me back at defense. We needed speed to match the opposing team's stryker.

The rest of the game was a breeze. The ball rarely came on our half.

Well, that's that game. Now, we are headed to our Championship (notice how I said OUR Championship :). We're ready for ND. I stand by what I said in the first chapter of this tale: I believe in my team. We'll take it all the way.


P.S.-Justine was having a bad day with the referee. He was missing all the fouls that Heather (opposing team's stryker) was making on her. When the ref. finally made a good call, she did somethings stupid. She raised up her hands (like the way someone does when they ask someone else to fight) and said, "Thank you!". The referee had blown his whistle when Justine said, "thank". He only heard her say "you" and had inferred that she said, "F*ck you". Well, that was obviously yellow-card material. She was out for the rest of the game. That was sad, but when you look back at the situation, it's crack-ass funny :D.

Sharks' Tale: One Down, Two to go

Amazing--that is the word that most people might use to describe how the Sharks played tonight. 

Our coach always stressed that it was the playoffs that were the real deal. "A new season begins with the quarter-finals (our first playoff game)," he says.

We learned from the mistakes we made in our regular-season/practice games. Today, we began a new. The Sharks are in a frenzy, and nothing can stop us now. 

We drew blood first when I placed a side shot into the goal. Everything else just came along once we got our momentum going. Red scored from a breakaway. Laura scored a tough shot in the box. Asha received a nice cross from Red and touched it in. 

Our coach felt comfortable with the score, so he switched up the line. The strykers played fullbacks (I was sweeper), and the fullbacks played up top. It was a simply splendid game. 

At last, I was awarded a game ball. (The coaches give one out after each game.) "Finally!" I said. "I love it so much I could make out with it." Coach Lunod just looked at me like I was crazy. I was obviously exaggerating, but I did lick Piglet--my ball--to claim it as my own. 

Coach Canos implanted into our heads that we are now in a one-game season. We only get one chance to win a game. If we fail, then our season is over. That's a lot of pressure on us.

Obviously, this is just the beginning. But like I said before, I have the utmost confidence in the Sharks. We're going all the way to the 'ship. 

Next game, I believe we face the Harvest Christian Academy Eagles. They're a good team, but we'll see who's best on Wednesday. The Sharks just have to come in fearless and finish strong. 

Sharks' Tale: Freshmen Fighting Forward

The average amount of players who attend practice is about eleven. That's just enough to play but not enough to have a substitute. Once again, the team is looking quite down. We used to have an army. Now, we have just enough. I know the odds are against us. That's the point. We're the underdogs, and the underdogs always come out on top. Our coach says that we have to work with the players we have left--forget about the others who fell out because of their grades, behavior, injuries, etc.. For once, I disagreed with him. 

I had been pondering a recent revelation. One of our starters--let's just call her Pistachio--was suspended from school earlier in the year. The reason of this suspension is not important; however, because of the suspension and the suspension alone, her Chamorro teacher--Mr. Y--gave her a "U" for a behavior grade. If a player gets a "U", he/she cannot play any longer. 

At the beginning of the season, she did not have this "U". She had to miss the first three games and deliver a very touching speech. When she played, the team felt complete. Technically, our starting line was complete. Pistachio, the right winger, was  a great player. 

Once Mr. Y found out about the suspension, he had to give her the "U". I guess it was one of his "rules". Ever since then, I've seen Pistachio cry one too many times. When she cried, I usually cried. Soon after, the whole team started falling apart. That brings us to where we are now. 

I believe that if I get Pistachio back and complete our starting line, I will give our team hope--hope for a championship. Like I said before, I know we can do it. I just need to get the others to believe too. They say they do, but honestly, I can see in their eyes that they don't. Getting Pistachio back would be like killing two birds with one stone. 

I devised a plan. Actually, I devised half a plan. The other freshmen on the team helped me come up with  another quarter of the plan. The last 25% of the plan will be made up as I go and put into action the other 75% of the plan. haha. That was kind of redundant and confusing. 

Anyways, our first playoff game is on Monday. I hope that I can reach Mr. Y by tomorrow, so we'll be complete by next week...

Oh yeah. Today (during the time between finishing stretching and starting the first drill), Red found a grasshopper. She gave it to me. I saw Regina wearing a windbreaker, so I put the grasshopper down through the neck hole. Then, she turned around and looked at Red and me. We were both smiling. Suddenly, (I guess she finally felt the grasshopper) she started screaming really loud. Regina has a pretty loud voice to start with, and I had forgotten how badly she hated bugs. The grasshopper somehow got out, but she kept on screaming and throwing that tantrum. She even started tearing. By that time, Red and I had moved to a safe distance away for fear of loss of life. Regina got mad at me. I apologized, though, and she forgave me. I think. All in all, that was a freaken scary situation. That's the last time I do that....Na, I take that back.

That's it for this chapter in Sharks' Tale. Wish me luck with Pistachio and Mr. Y.

Sharks' Tale: Notre Dame? More Like Notre Lame (:

On Saturday, the Simon Sanchez Lady Sharks met up against the Notre Dame Royals in an IIAAG (or whatever) Girls Soccer League game. We, the Sharks, lost 3-0.

It was an okay game. Truthfully, the Royals weren't what I expected. They weren't gods at the sport like I had thought. We could have beaten them.

Before the game, our coach had reminded us that this was just a practice game--not a championship match. They said that the game would be exactly what we thought it would be. If we thought it would be like any other game, then it would be. If we thought it would be hell, then it would be. Obviously, we chose to go with the latter.

Despite our coach's advice, we freaked out at the beginning. Well, I was really scared before the game started. When I saw Notre Dame play, I wasn't that impressed. We could have won. I just know it, but we decided to let our emotions get the better of us.

Surprisingly, I was the most optimistic. It was like everyone was about to cry or something. I couldn't stand it. It was so...different. I never want to see my team like that again. That's why I am making a vow to crush ND at that championship game. I know we can beat them. We held them off from scoring another goal during the whole second half.

I believe in us.

I will be writing blogs about my team's journey to the 'ship and through the 'ship. Stay tuned for more additions to Sharks' Tale.

Chapter .5?

I promised myself that I would make at least one new addition to my blog during Spring Break. I don't know what to write about. 

OOOHHH MY GOSSSSHHHH! I know what to write about! 

A long while ago, I began writing this story. I do that a lot, but I never actually get to finishing any of them. The idea for this story just hit me like an atomic bomb on an unsuspecting, very-populated city. I'm sorry if it's no Harry Potter or Twilight sort of thing. It's just strictly Jannel. I mean, that's what this blog is for anyways. 

Chapter .5

(P.S.- I don't know the title of the story yet.)

And it was love at first sight.

As he held the dying maiden in his trembling arms, his heart beat with a passion so fierce it could have frightened a lion. His mind paid no attention to the people surrounding him, only to the beautiful creature staring into his tearing eyes. 

What would his sergeant do if he saw one of his troops endangering their whole operation by showing himself to the natives? He didn't care. The only thing that mattered was right in front of him, and it was about to cease living. He felt like collapsing onto the dry, dusty ground. Fatigue had claimed his body due to the past few days of trekking across the desert. However, he could not--no, he would not--let the lady touch the ground, soiling her perfect clothing. No, that wasn't it. He just had an undeniable desire to hold her. He needed to shield her frail body from the cruel world that did this to her. How could they harm something so precious? How could they do this to an angel?

As she lay in the soldier's trembling arms, her heart beat ever so calmly with a happiness so great it could have cured a hospital full of terminally depressed patients. Her mind paid no attention to the blood seeping out of the wound in her chest or to the excruciating pain that came whenever she inhaled, only to the beautiful creature staring into her tearing eyes. 

While her last seconds slowly passed, her life did not flash before her eyes. She did not think about her mansion a continent away or about her wealthy freinds who had conducted a world-wide search for her. She merely giggled in her mind and chastised herself for taking this long to complete her mission. What would her mother do if she saw this non-royal, middle-class, adequately normal man grasping her daughter, with an ever-so-strong and loving hold, on her deathbed? The answer to this question only made her laugh. Well, it's better late than never she thought. She smiled and noticed the puzzled look on the man's face. This made her smile even more. 

Her time was nearly up, and they both new it. The soldier took a knee, still firmly, but gently, holding his love. He leaned in toward her, ever so cautiously. The look on her face told him that he had nothing to fear. So, he drew his face just a breath away from hers and softly brushed a strand of hair away from one of her eyes. She gathered all the strength left in her, lifted her head and pressed her lips against his. It was their first and last kiss. With a sigh of relief, she calmly said, "I found you."

Her glorious voice left him at a loss for words. Seeing this, the woman simply smiled (may I add, for the last time). Though full of sorrow, the man smiled back. Then, she grabbed a hold of this familiar stranger's hand and sank into her deep sleep.

All the soldier could do was stare at his limp angel. He barely resisted the temptation to scream at the top of his lungs or yell out to the heavens above, just to see if she would reply. His minute with her seemed like a lifetime full of joy, sadness, and bewilderment--a lifetime that he could never get back. A series of tears fell down his cheek. The noise around him seemed to be muted. The woman was...gone. 

After a few minutes of silence, he could no longer stand the pain. The soldier thought that he had experienced sorrow before, but he had never felt something so horrid, so breathtakingly sad as this. He finally cried. He cried so hard it hurt. He cried and cried and cried, but he realized that crying would not bring her back.

He began to walk back to the camp, still holding his love in his trembling arms. Little did he know, she had slipped an envelope into his front pocket. So concentrated on his personal paradise/hell, he failed to notice this. 

This is only like a draft of chapter .5, but I'm still working on it. I'll keep editing this addition of my blog until I feel that it's right. Check in later for chapter 1. Thanks for reading.

P.S.-If you're wondering why I called it chapter .5, I'll be glad to explain. Prologues are just too typical. I couldn't call this chapter 1 because this is obviously not where the story begins. So, I chose to use a decimal number. Plus, it's like half the size of a real chapter.

P.P.S.-Any suggestions to better my writing would be highly appreciated. 

Some Goals of Mine

I read this book called The Power of Less by the very intelligent Leo Babauta (writer of zenhabits.com), which said that publishing your goals motivates you to actually get them done. I'm going to try that idea out now with some goals I plan on accomplishing by the end of the year. It also said that I should only choose one major goal at a time, but I'm a really ambitious kid. I believe in myself.  

1. I want to learn how to control my anger and keep my composure while under stress.

2. I want to abolish my bad-word-speaking mouth.

3. I want to tap board (touch the frame of a basketball board) by the end of soccer season. 

4. I want to be a better citizen. I'll do this by getting in 4 hours of community service each month.

110%: Is it really possible?

Why do coaches always tell their players to give 110%? If I'm as smart as some people think I am, then wouldn't that mean death? I'm pretty sure coaches don't want to literally kill their players, so they shouldn't keep repeating that cliche. I mean, a hundred percent is all you got. Anymore and you would kill yourself. 

You're probably thinking that 110% is possible. What's this girl talking about? Everybody can push themselves beyond their limits. Duh. If you try your hardest and do something that you weren't able to do before, you're simply giving a hundred percent. You can improve, so each time you give your hundred percent, you get more out of it. Maybe you weren't giving a hundred percent before. Once you do give a hundred percent of heart and effort, you'll be lead to think that you were giving 110%. I hope I didn't confuse you. 

Coaches tell their players to give 110% to motivate them to do better. The thing I want to know is this: why 110%? Why do coaches use that particular number? If you really want to stress that your players should give it their all, then why not use 1,000,000%? Or maybe even an infinite percent. 

Things like this just give me something to think about while I'm doing a test or something.

Caution: Don't give 110% in trying to understand this. You may put yourself into a mental lapse or a coma.