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Narative: Going Home

Essay by   •  December 5, 2010  •  844 Words (4 Pages)  •  1,064 Views

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Downtown

Have you ever going back to a familiar place and to your ultimate disappointment there is nothing familiar about it. I fear that I'm destined to meet this fate. I am going to my auntie's wedding this October and I'm headed back to my hometown. The town it's self will bring up memories from the past, and there are people in the town with familiar faces, doing familiar things that I once did, I guess I am fearing the fact that I might have changed form the girl that left 3 years ago.

Am I still that girl that went to Pig Out in the Park and ate so much that I didn't eat for a whole two days afterwards because I was still so full? Am I the girl that would smoke cigarettes underneath the walkway going to Gotshock's hoping that no one I knew would drive by and, most definitely tell my Mother. Am I the girl that spent most of her summers riding her bike form house-to-house, park-to-park and, event-to-event? Spending every Blooms Day with family and friends. When I was young I ran it, Jr. High I walked it and, by high school, I was sitting on my couch with friends and a large pizza, extra cheese, watching the it on TV. These memories are the memories that make me think that I'm not the same person I was when I left. But, out of all the memories that I cherish to remember is the last weekend in June when the whole city closed down and came together to put on one of the best event of the year, called Hoopfest. Now I can't recollect one specific Hoopfest but the overall feeling and memories of the 3-day event are ingrained in my mind.

You can't park close to your court. You have to walk about 5- 10 blocks just to get to where the courts are. The courts are made out of the streets of downtown. Yellow aluminum tape sectioning off each half court from another, and barrels full of water hold down the hoops. The courts extend through downtown form 1st Ave to Riverfront Park, where the main court was located, and form the Maple Street Bridge to the Opera House, roughly about square mile or two. All closed down by city busses, barricading any traffic that might try and disturb the weekend event.

Now each team consist of 4 people one being the sub. Weather I was playing or not the one item that I loved, more than anything that weekend, was the map of all the teams and where they where located. So I could find anyone of my friends' games. Find the court of the guy I had a crush on or the girl I hated that summer. Visiting the game of my dad's team, The Geezer, which basically meant that 45 plus year old men getting together pretending that they can still play basketball. Watching my sister play her first Hoopfest ever, as the 3 foot 5 inches little girl try

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