Watch Me

　　by Callie Adam - September 10, 2003

　　Common Application: General topic of your choice.

　　I&apos&aposm sure I have the visiting team&apos&aposs attention by the time I finish my first lap around the soccer field. Standing in a circle, contemplating my presence, they venture guesses quietly, "Cross country? Lost? Girl&apos&aposs soccer?" Finishing my second lap, I can always feel them looking at me, trying to put the pieces together. I am running the laps by myself because today, like many other days, I have missed my team&apos&aposs warm-up when classes at school ran into practice. Although it is amusing to hear the other team&apos&aposs bewilderment, by the end of my warm-up I welcome the security of a group. The boys, discussing whatever had happened in school, include me with friendly greetings. I join &apos&aposmy&apos&apos team with a feeling of satisfaction; glancing at the visitors, I think, &apos&aposLet them ponder that for a while.&apos&apos

　　Now the other team stands, and stares across the field trying not to look too obvious. Their coach barks, "Concentrate! Move! What are you looking at?" But chances are he knew long bore he even got to the game. "It&apos&aposs just a girl," he says.

　　I knew it was risky accepting the opportunity to play with a boys&apos&apos team. It is something that could have had resonating fects on me, as I am in high school, and passing judgment on people seems to be something my age group has a knack for. The team isn&apos&apost my high school&apos&aposs either so school pride and loyalty are potentially sensitive issues as well. However, when I consider my passion to play and improve, this seems like a perfect opportunity.

　　I have proved myself to my own adoptive team and coach, but because others do not know me, scrimmages are always the most eventful, not to mention trying experiences. When we begin to play, the opposing team&apos&aposs initial confusion is to our advantage since I have no challenges. The dender who is my mark, assigned to keep me from the ball, doubtfully attempts to tackle while his exasperated coach yells. The other team&apos&aposs slow start doesn&apos&apost always last, and in an fort to save their dignity in the face of accusations, opponents frequently resort to more than soccer, and the games become quite entertaining.

　　I have learned that I cannot expect my reputation to precede me; I must start over every scrimmage with the faith that after playing the ninety minutes I will have earned the respect of a fellow player. I like to see that the fort I put into each game has made me an equal. Regardless of the score, I count a game as a victory when I can look evenly at my former mark and he can sincerely, albeit quietly, say "Good game."

　　Every new experience requires me to earn my reputation. In the future, I expect that some first impressions of a young girl aspiring to become an engineer will have to be proven wrong, just as I strive not only to win a soccer game, but also to win my opponent&apos&aposs respect. I have to answer many questions about my decision and interest in playing with the boys; most people, confused, wink and grin, and ask if I really even play. These are the people who do not know me yet, and normally, smiling, I invite them to a game- "watch me."

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