Sixth grade was a great time. Reflecting back on that year, I see many friends and many great memories. I thought I was one the best athletes in my class, and the school held the Olympic games at the end of the year. These games were where I could prove my perfect athleticism. Each homeroom had their color, and my class had the color purple. On the day we signed up for what we wanted to participate in, I ran to sign up for the three on three basketball game. I was confident that I was going to go out there and conquer anyone I faced.

As the first game approached, I quickly realized that I was neither the biggest, strongest or fastest person at Chapel Hill Middle School. Regardless, I was determined to make a name for myself. Hundreds of middle school students and parents filled the bleachers in the gymnasium for the basketball games. The first game I played resulted in a tie with the green team. “In the event of a tie,” said the gym teacher over the microphone, “the players must shoot free throws until someone misses.” All six players lined up at the free-throw line. One person from the green team would shoot. Then, one person from my team would shoot. These free throws went back forth between both teams. I was the last in line. I grew more anxious as the first four people made their shots. The guy in front of me shoots the ball, and the ball rolls out the rim. He missed. Now, it was up to me to win the game. Justin, a player from the green team, whispered, “Don’t choke.” I started sweating as the realization grew on me that the game was up to me and my abilities. I set my feet and shot the ball. I truly believe I blacked out, because I do not remember the ball in the air. However, I do remember making the shot. The crowd went wild and I ran around the gymnasium like a crazy middle school student would.

After that game, we won all others and eventually made it to the final round. I was not as confident as before, because my teammates mostly carried the load while I just tried to play defense. It was down to the last 15 seconds. I was guarding one of the biggest students in our grade. As a small weak sixth grader, I was definitely thankful that he was one of the clumsiest students in our grade, too. The other team threw the ball down to the player I was guarding. As I tried to distract him from making the shot, he just tossed it into the basket with five seconds left until the final buzzer. We were losing by two points at that moment. I checked in the ball and passed it to the best player on my team. Surprisingly, he passed the ball back to me. I was shocked, because I was behind the three-point line and the worst player on the team. However, I knew that the clock was ticking. I launched the ball in the air. I remember the ball soaring through the air, and then I saw it. The ball swished through the goal as the buzzer went off, and I went crazy. I ran right to the section where my homeroom class was sitting. I beat my chest and yelled like Tarzan. Everyone was cheering and screaming along with me, because we won the game.

I learned that no matter how small you may feel, victory can still be achieved. All you have to do is do it with passion. This is one of my favorite memories. It is a lesson that can take all of us far in life.