Personal Narrative Essay: The Injury I Was Not Expecting

The thought of getting injured never crossed my mind. My soccer career was shaping out just the way I planned. I received MVP for my junior high team, my team had just won our district championship, and I felt the fittest I had felt in a long time. I never expected that the next time I took the field, it would be my last for a while. 

 It was an exciting and nerve-racking Tuesday evening because I was selected to participate in a practice with one of the top teams in my soccer club. As I walked up to the field, I could feel eyes staring at me from afar. I knew I needed to perform at my best to prove to the coach that I was ready to play on a more skilled team. As I laced up my cleats and stepped onto the damp field, my heart started to race and my palms became sweaty. The beginning of practice seemed to be going well. I was finishing my shots on goal, making clean passes, and communicating well with my teammates. With about fifteen minutes left in practice, my coach instructed us to get some water and be ready for some one-on-one to goal. When I heard the words one-on-one, my mind filled with excitement. As I stepped up to the little orange cone, I could see my opponent ready to take the ball from my feet. The whistle blew and I pushed the ball in front of me, dribbling as fast as I could toward the defender. As I got closer, I planted my right foot in the ground to try to fake out my opponent. As I moved my body one way, I heard a “pop” come from my knee. In seconds, pain shot up my leg like I was being stabbed, and I fell to the ground crying. At that moment, I knew something was seriously wrong. My coach and teammates rushed towards me as tears streamed down my face. With the help of my father and coach, I hopped off the field and drove home. 

The following day, my mother drove me to the doctor to see the extent of the damage to my knee. I was hoping for the best, but deep in my mind, I knew I was not going to be able to play soccer again. As I waited for the doctor to deliver the news, the popping sound replayed over and over in my head, making my stomach feel sick.

The doctor finally walked into the exam room, sat down, and said, “You tore your anterior cruciate ligament(ACL).”

As tears rolled down my face, I asked, “How long will I be out for?” 

He replied, “At least nine months if not longer.”

The next couple of days as I laid in bed trying to shut my eyes, tears of sadness continually flowed down my face. 

The days following my surgery is a time I will never forget. I began physical therapy and the beginning weeks of my rehabilitation were some of the worst weeks of my life. My crutches were my lifesaver because every time I would try to put pressure on my right knee, pain would spiral up my leg. Some of the things that were easy and thoughtless before became the most challenging things. Every time I had to use the restroom or get up from my bed, I had to have help from my family. Using the restroom was one of the hardest things to do because I couldn’t hold my leg up long enough without stabbing pain in my leg. The pain that came with bending and straightening my leg was horrible. The first day the physical therapist tried to bend my knee, tears and a scream came from my mouth as it felt like my knee was ripping. Every time the physical therapist would try to push my knee further and further it felt like it could not go any further. After weeks of exercises and massages, I was finally able to bend and straighten my leg painlessly. I was filled with excitement after my doctor cleared me to start walking. The next step in my recovery was focusing on gaining back the muscle that was lost after the surgery. Every time I looked in the mirror, I questioned whether I could come back stronger. My injured leg looked half the size of my left leg, which frightened me. I began doing strength training to build up my quad and calf muscles. After months of hard work, my right leg was finally looking similar to my left leg. 

The physical pain, however, was nothing compared to the mental pain I experienced after I tore my ACL. As I laid in my bed, an unwanted thought suddenly filled my mind. Would I be the same player as I was before? I searched for an answer every day, but I knew deep down I would never be the same player. As I laced up my cleats for the first game, I told myself to focus on the game and less on my knee. However, the game ended up being a mental struggle. The whole game, I would worry if I would injure my ACL again. I knew my knee was strong, but a piece of me felt like I was still injured. When the final whistle blew, I breathed a sigh of relief. On the long car ride back, I stared out the window, happy that I was able to play the game I missed so much, but I wished I could still be the same player. The rest of the spring season for the club, my confidence grew each game I played, but I still was struggling with playing as I did before. That is until school soccer started. 

After practice, my school coach approached me, and said, “Have you ever played defense before?”

I paused and looked at her confused, and said, “No, but I can test it out.” 

She smiled and said, “Great, I think you will like it.” 

In the back of my mind, I thought how am I going to play a position I never played before? I decided to give it a chance, and it turned out to be the best thing for me. After the first game, my confidence skyrocketed. I felt comfortable moving the ball and playing with my teammates. I finally felt like I never stopped playing. 

Even though the physical and the mental aspects of tearing my ACL were difficult, it allowed me to see a different view of what the game was all about. I was able to adapt to a new position, which allowed me to go into tackles easily, get rid of the ball faster, and learn to depend on my teammates. Every minute I played, whether it was just ten minutes or eighty minutes, I felt grateful for it. Before I injured my knee, the thought of getting injured never crossed my mind. I never really thought I would miss the game I played every day until I could not play it for a year. I believe that tearing my ACL was a good thing because it opened my eyes to other aspects of the game, and made me a better player.