Right now, I honestly should be working vigorously at my Pre Calculus homework, full of parametric equations, yet I find myself compelled to write. Sometimes one just gets in the creative mood and x's and y's don't romance the heart's desire. Plus, I read over my previous posts and quite frankly, I think that they are sub par. So, in efforts to reverse the direction of this blog, I will attempt to write the best blog yet to be conceived on Halls of my High School.
On the 28th, I leave. I meet at the AirTran check-in, at the Denver International Airport. I am supposed to arrive sharply at 3:30, but our flight leaves hours later. I don't really understand that, but that's okay. The flight will hopefully be accommodated with complimentary mixed nuts, movie showing and air conditioning but seeing as how I have never heard of the airline, I'm not setting my hopes too high. Around 12:35 in the morning on the 29th, I will arrive in Orlando, Florida, jump into a van, drive to Cocoa Beach, which is one hour outside of Orlando, check-in to a hotel, sleep for 6 hours, wake up and go play lacrosse. Then, a few hours after playing lacrosse, I'm going to go play more lacrosse. Later that night, but not too much later, we (my lacrosse team if you hadn't figured that one out yet) have a game to play under the lights against Penn. Thurst, the number five team in all of Pennsylvania. Two days later, after many more lacrosse practices, an early morning team run on the beach and probably some sleepless nights, we have another game under the lights. This one is against the number one team in all of Georgia, Lassitier. Crap...even their name sounds intimidating. I don't plan on winning. I just hope to hold our own and see what our team can do. I just hope I don't get too many bruises.
But have no fear. There will never be a trip made by thirty high school kids to Florida without a whole heck of a lot of beach time. The last day at Cocoa Beach, after the bountiful lacrosse practices, early morning team runs on the beach, and games played against teams way above our level, we will be allowed to relax and enjoy some warm weather on a long beach. I can't wait to feel the sand in between my toes, hear the roar of the ocean as wave after wave barrel their way onto the beach and see the endless horizon that the majestic Atlantic Ocean has to offer.
I have a horrified excitement rushing through my veins. I can't wait to be in warm Florida. Yet I'm terrified of the 250 pound guy with a six foot pole and a Lassitier jersey on who is waiting for me their. Wish me luck. Wish my team luck. I'll try to score a goal for everyone of you. Peace be the journey to you my brother!
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Dude, I am jeolous. Long trips with the team are some of my greatest memories from soccer. There is nothing like sweating, bleeding and being together for multiple days in a row. Not to mention the classic three o'clock in the morning wrestling matches, or the team meals spent throwing food at one another. Have a great time brother. I will still love you if you don't score a goal...but just a little bit less than I do now.
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