Personal narrative
"Clang" the ball hit the back of the rim and bounced back to me. I caught it off the second bounce and shuffled to my left, and let another shot go "swish." I breathed in the cool, crisp, winter air and saw the breath from my mouth curl out in a puff and I walked over to the ball. It was 9 pm on Saturday and I couldn't sleep. We, the Owls, had a big game coming up next Tuesday. It was the KYB basketball for championship semifinals. If we beat the Red Raiders we would go on through the gold division to the championship against the other owls team.
I kept shooting until 10 pm, until my dad came outside and grumped, "go to bed, you've been making a racket for an hour, I'm trying to sleep.
"OOPS I FORGOT," I said in a goofy voice. Well,actually in my voice, but my voice is weird.
He said, "Whatever, just go to bed''.
"Yes sir-mam-sir-mam," I said. As he went back inside, I shot the ball again.
2 days later...
The big game is tomorrow. I wanted to win this game really bad. If we won the finals too then we would be the best team of the season,and we would also be UNDEFEATED. With one loss, but it doesn't sound cool if I say that we are 9 and 1. I practiced a few drills and took many practice shots, a couple from the outside the 3-point line, and a few from inside. Then a couple lay-ups, left and right handed. Then I drove in for a twisting lay-up and I made it, but I landed hard on my ankle and twisted it, a sharp crack came from my ankle.
Right then and there, I decided not to tell anyone, since otherwise they might not let me play in the game tomorrow. My team needed me to win. I couldn't let them down like that. I tried to walk to the ball and the pain from my ankle shot up to my thigh. I gritted my teeth and walked towards the ball. The pain made me collapse, I felt churning in my stomach and was about to throw up. When my dad came outside and called me inside for lunch with perfect timing.I felt like I was going to throw up even more, because my dad makes the worst grilled cheese sandwiches in the WORLD. He picked me up off the ground and brought me inside. He looked at my swollen, purple, ankle. He didn't say anything but he winced and started icing it. I groaned and asked him if I could play in the game tomorrow. He compassionately put his hand warmly on my shaking shoulder and with a smile on his face, his eyes bright he said to me, "Of course," a huge smile lit up my face,stretching it to the breaking point "not," he finished.My face broke (not really,it just felt like it,) I started making a million excuses, it doesn't hurt, I'll wear an ankle guard, I don't even like my ankle,etc. He shook his head and said, "I can't let you get hurt any more than you already have. I'm sorry but you can't go.".Then he gave me a Grilled Cheese sandwich , and I threw up.
The Next Day....or tomorrow, same thing...
It was 6:30 am on game day, I woke up with a throbbing pain in my ankle bursting up my leg and my stomach hurting. I put on my jersey,my pants, and my pink one direction boxers. I was worried about my ankle, but more worried about the game. I hastily put a water bottle, my mouth guard, my energy chews, a bottle of Gatorade, and my ball into my bright pink barbie backpack. I started to limp out the door and I took a deep breath and I hobbled to the game on the trail by my house. Yup, I snuck out . When I got there it was 5 minutes to game time. My coach kept looking around like he was missing something, and then, when he saw me he gave a big sigh of relief. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, then I walked over to my team and started stretching. The buzzer sounded for the game to start. Our starting five walked over to the referee. He started droning on and on about playing fair and not arguing with the refs and for the parents to keep the comments to themselves because the referees were professionals. I noticed he was wearing his whistle backwards. I was so caught up in my own thoughts about the referee and unicorns, that I barely noticed when the game started. The referee tried to blow the whistle, but it was on back wards, so he turned it around and blew on the wrong end.He turned it around again and then the whistle blew. He threw the ball in the air for jump ball. Since our center was taller than the other team's center, we won the tip. I caught the ball in mid air and brought it down. I took a dribble and started walking down the court. The other teams point guard got into a defensive stance, he looked nervous. I took advantage of that and made a tough guy face. His face changed and he started looking around like ''what the heck?'' I thought I was making him nervous by looking tough but then my coach yelled "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, coach!" I said as I realized my face must have looked weird, like I had to use the restroom or something . Anyways, back to the game, I decided not to try to scare him, but confuse him, so I said ''your shoe is untied'' and just drove in to the basket. I went right by him, and in a last ditch attempt to stop me while he looked at his velcro shoes, he tried to trip me. It didn't work, but he landed a kick to my ankle, the injured one. I fell over holding my ankle and the "professional" ref called a foul on me for traveling and faking a foul. I made a few more plays (1) and scored several points. Then as I shot a three pointer, he kicked me in the ankle again. I bent over, gritting my teeth. The ref blew his whistle. I told the ref, "if this is a foul on me you should go home and watch Barney and the Tellie tubbies guest starring Elmo and Cookie Monster and Big Bird and never have any friends and read gossip magazines all day with your cats".His face turned purple and he looked like he would love to do that and cry to his mommy and tell me Mr.FluffypantsIII, his cat, can only read TIME magazines, but sadly, he didn't . I was ejected from the game and we lost by 20 points, but it was worth it because I finally learned to stand up for myself. Okay, maybe it wasn't worth it, but hey, at least I stood up for myself. p.s, the team that we lost to by 20 points,they lost by one point in the finals, because the kid who tripped me, missed a game winning layup because his shoes were untied and he tripped. Also, his mom yelled at him. Karma got him.
I kept shooting until 10 pm, until my dad came outside and grumped, "go to bed, you've been making a racket for an hour, I'm trying to sleep.
"OOPS I FORGOT," I said in a goofy voice. Well,actually in my voice, but my voice is weird.
He said, "Whatever, just go to bed''.
"Yes sir-mam-sir-mam," I said. As he went back inside, I shot the ball again.
2 days later...
The big game is tomorrow. I wanted to win this game really bad. If we won the finals too then we would be the best team of the season,and we would also be UNDEFEATED. With one loss, but it doesn't sound cool if I say that we are 9 and 1. I practiced a few drills and took many practice shots, a couple from the outside the 3-point line, and a few from inside. Then a couple lay-ups, left and right handed. Then I drove in for a twisting lay-up and I made it, but I landed hard on my ankle and twisted it, a sharp crack came from my ankle.
Right then and there, I decided not to tell anyone, since otherwise they might not let me play in the game tomorrow. My team needed me to win. I couldn't let them down like that. I tried to walk to the ball and the pain from my ankle shot up to my thigh. I gritted my teeth and walked towards the ball. The pain made me collapse, I felt churning in my stomach and was about to throw up. When my dad came outside and called me inside for lunch with perfect timing.I felt like I was going to throw up even more, because my dad makes the worst grilled cheese sandwiches in the WORLD. He picked me up off the ground and brought me inside. He looked at my swollen, purple, ankle. He didn't say anything but he winced and started icing it. I groaned and asked him if I could play in the game tomorrow. He compassionately put his hand warmly on my shaking shoulder and with a smile on his face, his eyes bright he said to me, "Of course," a huge smile lit up my face,stretching it to the breaking point "not," he finished.My face broke (not really,it just felt like it,) I started making a million excuses, it doesn't hurt, I'll wear an ankle guard, I don't even like my ankle,etc. He shook his head and said, "I can't let you get hurt any more than you already have. I'm sorry but you can't go.".Then he gave me a Grilled Cheese sandwich , and I threw up.
The Next Day....or tomorrow, same thing...
It was 6:30 am on game day, I woke up with a throbbing pain in my ankle bursting up my leg and my stomach hurting. I put on my jersey,my pants, and my pink one direction boxers. I was worried about my ankle, but more worried about the game. I hastily put a water bottle, my mouth guard, my energy chews, a bottle of Gatorade, and my ball into my bright pink barbie backpack. I started to limp out the door and I took a deep breath and I hobbled to the game on the trail by my house. Yup, I snuck out . When I got there it was 5 minutes to game time. My coach kept looking around like he was missing something, and then, when he saw me he gave a big sigh of relief. I closed my eyes and took another deep breath, then I walked over to my team and started stretching. The buzzer sounded for the game to start. Our starting five walked over to the referee. He started droning on and on about playing fair and not arguing with the refs and for the parents to keep the comments to themselves because the referees were professionals. I noticed he was wearing his whistle backwards. I was so caught up in my own thoughts about the referee and unicorns, that I barely noticed when the game started. The referee tried to blow the whistle, but it was on back wards, so he turned it around and blew on the wrong end.He turned it around again and then the whistle blew. He threw the ball in the air for jump ball. Since our center was taller than the other team's center, we won the tip. I caught the ball in mid air and brought it down. I took a dribble and started walking down the court. The other teams point guard got into a defensive stance, he looked nervous. I took advantage of that and made a tough guy face. His face changed and he started looking around like ''what the heck?'' I thought I was making him nervous by looking tough but then my coach yelled "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, coach!" I said as I realized my face must have looked weird, like I had to use the restroom or something . Anyways, back to the game, I decided not to try to scare him, but confuse him, so I said ''your shoe is untied'' and just drove in to the basket. I went right by him, and in a last ditch attempt to stop me while he looked at his velcro shoes, he tried to trip me. It didn't work, but he landed a kick to my ankle, the injured one. I fell over holding my ankle and the "professional" ref called a foul on me for traveling and faking a foul. I made a few more plays (1) and scored several points. Then as I shot a three pointer, he kicked me in the ankle again. I bent over, gritting my teeth. The ref blew his whistle. I told the ref, "if this is a foul on me you should go home and watch Barney and the Tellie tubbies guest starring Elmo and Cookie Monster and Big Bird and never have any friends and read gossip magazines all day with your cats".His face turned purple and he looked like he would love to do that and cry to his mommy and tell me Mr.FluffypantsIII, his cat, can only read TIME magazines, but sadly, he didn't . I was ejected from the game and we lost by 20 points, but it was worth it because I finally learned to stand up for myself. Okay, maybe it wasn't worth it, but hey, at least I stood up for myself. p.s, the team that we lost to by 20 points,they lost by one point in the finals, because the kid who tripped me, missed a game winning layup because his shoes were untied and he tripped. Also, his mom yelled at him. Karma got him.
Personal narrative teach
A personal narrative is like slices of multiple different apples. While a memoir tells about a significant event in your life, a personal narrative can be about anything. A good personal narrative has 5 key elements. First of all it has a beginning middle and end. In the beginning it should explain the situation and the basic idea of the story, the middle should advance the story and have significance. The end should resolve the story and how you feel about how things turned out, it should be a reflection and you learned something from the experience. In this story the beginning tells the situation, they have a semifinal basketball game and he wants to win really badly. Although the middle of the story has some added humor, most of it still advances the plot, (exept for the pink boxers thing, that was weird) it shows how much he practices and how much he wants to win, then when he injures himself and keep going it shows his perseverance and determination. At the end when the ref is being unfair, he stands up for himself and although he got himself ejected and their team lost, he finally learned to stand up for himself when someone is being unfair, or in this case, really stupid. Secondly it should have some kind of meaning, the story shouldn't end with the person completely unchanged, in this story he learned to stand up for himself,and not be afraid.The story should also be focused, it shouldn't be talking about several different things, although this story has ''some'' added humor, most of it is focused on one topic, the game and the events leading to it. You should add something that makes it more interesting, use dialogue or thoughts or some kind of complication. In this story he adds humor and the twisted ankle, which makes readers wonder what will happen. And lastly, grammar and punctuation, while this may seem obvious and minor, grammar counts for a lot of your grade, if you are not capitalizing or punctuating correctly you will get points off. Our group,who wrote this personal narrative, had to spell check a couple times,but that is perfectly okay, because now, we are going to get a 100.(I hope).Okay, you guys can clap for us now.