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Daniel Jimenez
WR-13300-SS-12
Audio Narrative Script
A Clich Sporting Story

As I walked onto the the barren pitch, sporting the traditional yellow/blue Boca Juniors
uniform and my characteristic Copa America Adidas cleats, I thought back to the trials and
tribulations that got me to that point.
The journey actually started 2 years prior when I met the man who would become my
mentor all the way up to that point, El Profe Rodolfo. He quickly took me under his wing after
watching one of my practices, and I flourished. I became the best version I ever imagined I
could become, but it didnt come easy. The season consisted of early nights and early mornings,
an excessively healthy diet, and an unhealthy amount of running. I would wake up at 6 a.m.,
have a fruit smoothie, then head off to the gym for some weight training. After 45 minutes of
throwing weights around, I would come home to a plate of oatmeal, four egg whites, two slices
of toast, and a glass of orange juice. After hydrating and eating properly for the rest of the day, I
would make my way to the field at around 7:30 for some technical training. To make matters
worse, every other day I would have conditioning practice right before training. Mind you, this
was a weekly thing, non stop. Never would we have a week off. There was no such thing as an
off season. But thats what made us so good, number one in the country in fact (according to
GotSoccer.com at least). I was so grateful that this man came into my life and showed me what
it meant to work hard. Prior to his coaching, I had always been the lazy kid who relied on his
talent rather than hard work. Two years later, I was a changed man, not the fastest, nor the
quickest, nor the most skillful, but a force to be reckoned with nonetheless. This boost of
confidence that accompanied my obvious improvement in form led to my inclusion in the starting
11 for that years state cup. It was a huge opportunity for me to showcase my abilities and try to

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gain a starting spot on the regional and national cup squads. Everything was going smoothly
until the quarter final match. Scratch that, everything was going much more than smoothly, it
was a dream performance. Till this day, Ive never had a better tournament. I dont know what it
was, but I felt unstoppable on the pitch, tearing apart every defence and midfield with crisp
passes and sharp runs, complete with ankle-breaking jukes. But then came that fateful game.
As an opponent beat me on a one-on-one, I stuck my leg out, hoping to trip him and stop his
advance into the midfield. Instead, and due to a weak challenge, he ran through my leg, tearing
my ACL in the process. The pain was unbearable. I collapsed, clutching my right knee, and
quickly broke down. I knew from the popping sound and the swelling that ensued, that my
season was over. I knew the past year of work I had put in had just gone to shit. To make
matters worse, it was my fault. I could have avoided that challenge, but instead, here I lay,
helpless and unable to help my team to victory. Most importantly, my dreams of playing in the
national championship, a tournament my team was already been granted a spot in, had been
ruined, and consequently, so were my chances of being scouted to play at the next level.
After 6 months of painstaking physical therapy, I came back. Well actually, I never truly
came back (for some time at least). At the point of my return, I was a hollow shell of my former
self. I was scared to go into a challenge, I avoided sharp turns of direction, and was scared to
push my limits, for obvious reasons. I felt mentally defeated. I was no longer the confident, and
slightly arrogant, player I had once been. From the moment Pitu, the teams head coach, saw
me he could smell the fear on me. He knew that I was nervous. He said time and time again:
Stop being a pussy.
I added, yeah Daniel, dont be a bitch. Man up or else stop wasting your time, but I
couldnt shake that feeling. He knew that I was heartbroken. He knew that I had fallen as I was
reaching my peak, but despite this, he refused to pick me up. He simply replaced me and said
nothing about it. This only made matters worse. Thankfully though, about a month or so after my
return, Profe Rodolfo decides to start coaching us again. After a few pep talks and a little more

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self-reflection, I picked myself up. I went back to the same training schedule I had followed prior
to my injury and everything started to look bright again. About two months into my return, Profe
Rodolfo comes up to me and says, Que tal Pibe? (Whats up kiddo?)
To which I reply, Todo bien profe, mejorando cada dia. (Everythings good. Getting
better every day.)
He adds, Eso esta bien. Asi me gusta. Con animo. (Thats good. Thats what I like to
hear. Positive attitude.)
I chuckle in agreement.
He continues, Mira Danny, te queria ofrecer una oportunidad. (Look Danny, I want to
offer you an opportunity.)
Dimelo profe, I ask. (Tell me coach.)
He tells me, Mira, este verano voy a estar en Argentina, entrenando a una academia
del Boca Juniors (which is one of the biggest professional teams in Argentina) y quiero que
vengas conmigo. (Look, this summer Im going to be in Argentina, training a Boca Juniors
academy and I want you to come with me.)
Ecstatic, I reply, Claro profe, me encantaria ir. Sera una oportunidad inmensa. (Of
course coach, I would love to. That would be a huge opportunity.)
He looks at me sternly and says, Mira Danny, yo tengo mucha fe en ti y quiero que
cumplas tu sueo, pero tienes que entender lo que esto significa. No puedes salir con
maricadas, no puedes ir con miedo. Tienes que volver a ser el jugador que eras antes. Si no, te
vas a decepcionar. (Look Danny, I have a lot of faith in you and I want you to live your dream,
but you have to understand what this means. You can come into like a pussy. You cant be
scared. You have to be the player you used to be or else you will be disappointed.)
That did it. From that moment on, I wasnt worried about the ifs or buts. It was my last
shot to make it somewhere in the sport I loved. It was all or nothing.

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4 months later I made my way to Buenos Aires to try my luck. After two weeks of training
with the team, I made my debut with the academy team. Three games later, the director of the
academy calls me into his office and asks me, How would you like to stay to live here and do
professional trials next year.
I was in awe. I walked out, smiling. It had all been worth it.