One of the Best

Samantha Weber
Ms. Biesuz
Honors English 9-7
20 November 2006
One of the Best
Five days, five days to show everything I have and prove to the Region 1 coaches that I am one of the top-level soccer players from amongst seven hundred other girls in the fifteen states that make up Region 1. Last summer, I was in this same situation, coming to the University of Rhode Island to compete, but falling just short of the cut. “This year will be different; I will make the Region 1 Olympic Development Program (ODP) team, even if it kills me,” I tell myself.

I know I can make it: I’ve trained six days a week over the past year. Coaches I respect are telling me this is my year, and at an earlier ODP tournament I was told my name had been written down to be pulled to go into the select pool of players from which the final team would come. On the first day of the five days of identification camp, I get up fully energized, ready to play. I don a pair of white Adidas shorts and white camp shirt with number sixteen on the back, grab my bag, and head to the field. I will play six hours of competitive soccer today, but I am focused on the present – making every touch perfect, one touch at a time. At days’ end, I have done well, but I am nervous as I wait for the list of girls selected to the elite pool to be posted. It is 10:00 p.m. and I get into bed because the chaperones insist, but I do not fall asleep. The bulletin board is still empty. At 1:00 a.m. I hear a slight knock on my door, and my chaperone tip-toes to my bed and tells me I made it. I start to cry and a smile spreads across my face.

I beam everyday when I walk into the dorms and see the new list posted -- my name is still there. Each day has been more of an accomplishment than the day before as the pool narrows and the competition is tougher. On the final day of the camp, there are seventy girls still in the pool, but only fifty-five names will be announced in the closing ceremony. The other fifteen girls will have to try again next year. My palms are sweaty as I sit in the grass waiting for the program to begin. The closing ceremony starts with many “thank you’s;” and finally, the head coach begins to read off the fifty-five names. They are read in alphabetical order; and each time a name is read, my heart beats faster as she gets nearer to the letter “W.” So far, five of my friends’ names have been announced, and I hold my breath as a last name with a “W” is called out and it is not mine. Suddenly, just when I think they’ve gone on to the next letter, I hear my name loud and clear, “Samantha Weber.” I jump up and walk over to take my place among the other girls selected and let out a deep sigh and feel the weight of the last year fall off my shoulders. I came to this camp just a State ODP player, but I was leaving it as a Region 1 player, proving to everyone that I am One of the Best.