My parents said that I was always an athlete. I have had an extreme passion for sports ever since the day my dad, a fervent sports fan, introduced me to the breathtaking atmosphere of the L.A. Dodgers baseball stadium. Over the course of my teenage years I became a devout competitor of sports, not just a loyal spectator. My coaches would compliment my ability to learn quickly and efficiently. By the time I entered high school, I was already exceptional in baseball, basketball, football, and tennis. This was reason enough for my supportive and encouraging parents to believe that my future was in sports. They were wrong.
By the time I was a freshman in high school, I found it impossible to ignore the numerous problems I faced at home. My dad, who has had trouble supporting the family, was on the verge of losing his liquor store for being unable to pay the monthly rent. My mom had a mental disability which made it difficult for her to assess and to cope with emotional situations. Financial problems were dragging my family to the ground. Initially, I was not aware of the intensity of these problems because I was so focused upon myself and what I could achieve as an athlete. However, now as a more mature individual, I see the reason why my parents pushed me so hard to play sports. They were trying to “mask” the problems they faced at home by encouraging me to do something that made me happy. Eventually, my parents' struggles slowly took a great toll on my mind and body.
When I was fifteen, I remember waking up on one unfortunate night to a fierce argument between my parents. I leaned my head against my door and listened to the powerful roar of my father's voice and the shrilling screech of my mother's response. It was difficult to decipher what exactly they were saying because the argument soon became a screaming competition. However, when they began considering a divorce as a solution, my heart balked. Immobilized, I felt every nerve in my body tremble as I listened to the soft cries of my daunted younger brothers. Each tormenting heartbeat felt as if my body was being crushed. I was helpless.
After that night, I knew it was time to face my problems. As a second-generation Korean-American, I knew that education was extraordinarily valued. I believed that if I excelled in other areas including sports, it would guarantee me a successful future. This mentality led me to the greatest transformation and sacrifice in my life because, at that moment, I eradicated the “mask” that my parents tried so hard to seal. From a versatile athlete, I challenged myself to become a diligent student. I confined myself to books and studying throughout the course of my high school career. My family gave me “motivation” as I gave them “hope”, for I believe the fate of my family is carefully embedded in my success. Although I do not concentrate on sports as intensely as I did before, I still consider myself an athlete. An athlete, by definition, is simply a person who competes towards a goal. My family's happiness is my goal, my blue ribbon which I will obtain through hard work and dedication.
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