Another personal statement attempt....have at it
Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 11:18 pm
The scoreboard reads 7-6. Only sixty-five seconds remain but it’s as if the time is refusing to tick away. “We’ve worked too hard all game. We’ve got this. We just have to keep them out of field goal range and we’ve got this.” The voice in my head remains the eternal optimist despite my aching legs and numb left shoulder. The quarterback takes the snap and I follow his eyes as I drop into coverage. I see them open wide as he turns his shoulders to release the ball. I have read the play perfectly and make my break. The ball hits me directly in the hands. I cling to it as if it were my first child. The world around me erupts as my teammates rush the field and the spectators rejoice. A feeling of euphoria comes over me that is indescribable.
I have had many other great moments on the field similar to this, moments that will remain vivid in my mind forever. I have won an infinite number of games and received dozens of both team and individual honors. These moments paint the biggest picture of my existence external of my family, spanning over seventeen years and equating to over three-fourths of my life. They have provided me with joy that is impossible to put a price tag on yet when I look back on everything that the game has given me, perhaps the most valuable are the moments that occurred off of the field.
During my three years at The College of New Jersey I have been fortunate enough to belong to a unique group with shared interests that extend far beyond the stereotypes. Caring about more than wins and losses and what the party scene would be like that weekend, we decided as a team to make an impact that would far exceed anything we could possibly do on a football field. Such consequences of this decision have led me to spending time in a wide range of environments, from the Trenton, New Jersey area soup kitchen to local elementary schools on Dr. Seuss’ Read Across America Day. It also led my teammates and I to an experience we will remember for the rest of our lives.
In April of both 2011 our team took a short trip from campus to the Special Olympics of New Jersey facility to participate in an integrated practice with a group of extraordinary boys and girls of all ages. We were each paired with one of the athletes and went through our typical practice routine as our cohorts gazed in amazement. They followed us through drills and learned some of our basic plays, the practice concluding in a playful game of two hand touch. Admittedly, I was very nervous before arriving to the facility. I had never been in a comparable environment or had contact with someone with similar disabilities so I didn’t have the slightest clue of what to expect or how to interact with our new “teammates”. I was paired with a young boy with autism who was very close in age to my younger brother. Throughout the practice I kept thinking about what it would be like if my brother were inflicted with this disease. It is not too farfetched: one in every 88 children in the United States is born autistic. The reality of the situation grounded me. My nerves dissolved into a passion to make sure my partner had the best experience possible. I rejoiced as I watched him laugh and smile throughout the few hours we shared together. After practice the athletes’ parents gathered with their children to thank us. I really should have been thanking them though, because as was the case with many of my teammates, the athletes gave us an underappreciated skill: the ability to appreciate life and our good fortune.
I firmly believe something miraculous happened night in April. It didn’t matter that we were diametric opposites. It didn’t matter that we had vastly different life experiences. Everyone on the field that day shared one common interest that trumped all anomalies: we all loved the game of football. This love enabled us to connect with them on an almost supernatural level, and everything became peculiarly simple. I left the facility that day feeling like I had affected another person’s life in a positive way, and that feeling trumps anything I have ever felt on an athletic field. It made me thankful for the sport of football in an unconventional way, for without it I would not have had the opportunity. Our team enjoyed the experience so much that we returned to the SONJ facility for a second and third encounter in April and July 2012
I have had many other great moments on the field similar to this, moments that will remain vivid in my mind forever. I have won an infinite number of games and received dozens of both team and individual honors. These moments paint the biggest picture of my existence external of my family, spanning over seventeen years and equating to over three-fourths of my life. They have provided me with joy that is impossible to put a price tag on yet when I look back on everything that the game has given me, perhaps the most valuable are the moments that occurred off of the field.
During my three years at The College of New Jersey I have been fortunate enough to belong to a unique group with shared interests that extend far beyond the stereotypes. Caring about more than wins and losses and what the party scene would be like that weekend, we decided as a team to make an impact that would far exceed anything we could possibly do on a football field. Such consequences of this decision have led me to spending time in a wide range of environments, from the Trenton, New Jersey area soup kitchen to local elementary schools on Dr. Seuss’ Read Across America Day. It also led my teammates and I to an experience we will remember for the rest of our lives.
In April of both 2011 our team took a short trip from campus to the Special Olympics of New Jersey facility to participate in an integrated practice with a group of extraordinary boys and girls of all ages. We were each paired with one of the athletes and went through our typical practice routine as our cohorts gazed in amazement. They followed us through drills and learned some of our basic plays, the practice concluding in a playful game of two hand touch. Admittedly, I was very nervous before arriving to the facility. I had never been in a comparable environment or had contact with someone with similar disabilities so I didn’t have the slightest clue of what to expect or how to interact with our new “teammates”. I was paired with a young boy with autism who was very close in age to my younger brother. Throughout the practice I kept thinking about what it would be like if my brother were inflicted with this disease. It is not too farfetched: one in every 88 children in the United States is born autistic. The reality of the situation grounded me. My nerves dissolved into a passion to make sure my partner had the best experience possible. I rejoiced as I watched him laugh and smile throughout the few hours we shared together. After practice the athletes’ parents gathered with their children to thank us. I really should have been thanking them though, because as was the case with many of my teammates, the athletes gave us an underappreciated skill: the ability to appreciate life and our good fortune.
I firmly believe something miraculous happened night in April. It didn’t matter that we were diametric opposites. It didn’t matter that we had vastly different life experiences. Everyone on the field that day shared one common interest that trumped all anomalies: we all loved the game of football. This love enabled us to connect with them on an almost supernatural level, and everything became peculiarly simple. I left the facility that day feeling like I had affected another person’s life in a positive way, and that feeling trumps anything I have ever felt on an athletic field. It made me thankful for the sport of football in an unconventional way, for without it I would not have had the opportunity. Our team enjoyed the experience so much that we returned to the SONJ facility for a second and third encounter in April and July 2012