When people use the word “football,” they may think of Cristiano Ronaldo or Leonardo Messi, but when I hear this term I think of Brett Favre or Marshawn Lynch. I remember the first time I ever set foot on a football field, the freshly mowed aroma of the lawn hit you like a Muhammad Ali knockout. But never in my life would I have thought that an obese hispanic nerd would find an obsession, a passion for the sport of football. I just want to bring it back to a few years before I fell in love with this sport, it was in elementary school where it all happened.
It was my first day at a new school, I walked in with the intentions to have a fresh start to leave my past in the past, to make new friends. All I wanted to do is have friends that would accept me for who I am, not what society depicts what someone should look like. It was hard to find those such friends in a new school where you do not know any body or who is the main clique that you have to watch out for.
But sooner or later I would have found out the hard way who it was I wasn’t supposed to mess with. Through first and seventh grade I was seriously bullied, there was not one day that I didn’t show up crying or beat up at home. There was even a dark period in time where I was even debating whether or not I should take my life, take in mind this was going on at the age of 8-13, that isn’t what a kid should be thinking about. There was just so many things going through my head wondering if I had done something wrong, that God was punishing me and making me learn a lesson, but what would I know I’m just a kid right. Luckily I had parents that would notice when something was wrong, but did I take advantage of the opportunity to ask my parents for help, No! To this day I regret it, if would have spoke up I could have prevented so much pain caused to my family and most importantly to me.
There was one event in my life that caused a spark to ignite the flame that had been build…