This is not just to make Mr. Alvarez happy. I am beyond angry that I got covid, not because of the amount of late work I’m doing this fine Sunday night and not because of the stress I currently face around college, but because it likely destroyed my shot of finishing my last cross country season successfully. For three years i have struggled, fought, and cried over my times in cross country and each year i’ve gotten a little but better. This year, before I even had covid it felt like I had reached a plateau in my running yet every day that passes that I sit in my room I get more and more hopeless about running in the 18s this season. Cross Country is very strange, as far as running in total goes my times are dismal and downright bad but the amount of effort and work I’ve put in makes me proud of them, in the end though it’s futile because I will never go anywhere with running i’ll just finish this season and likely never run in the same sense again yet still I have this need and desire to keep trying my best and keep pushing beyond what I’m capable of. This stretch of covid has just made the fight so much harder and it’s difficult to keep going especially with a positive attitude that’s necessary for captainship.
I surf with more passion than I’ve ever felt before, but I’d certainly not consider myself good. It’s the scariest thing I’ve ever encountered, walls of water like moving mountains, foamy white water like a powerful avalanche, a board which goes from your greatest ally to greatest enemy the moment it is freed from your hands and feet. Is the feeling of a wave worth the pain of falling? Often, yeah it is, small waves, no biggie, a couple seconds of being underwater (burr), and then you paddle back out and try again. But when the waves become giants and the board a brute force weapon, that fall feels like life or death. I remember going out on a day with waves far beyond my skill set, Goliath and Polyphemus in the flesh. Before even paddling for a wave a set came in, the first wave blocked the sun as it groaned past me, the second feathered as I crested its peak desperately paddling to the outside, and the third I was not so lucky. The avalanche hit me, immediately tearing the board from my hands, the wave now groaning on top of me thrashing my body like a ragdoll in a washing machine. My last thought was “I really don’t want to die”, and then, it was over. The wave passed and adrenaline pulled out beyond the impact zone. So what pushes me to surf in water like this, maybe I just like the adrenaline but I think it’s because putting myself in places beyond my skill set and comfort, where I am deeply imperfect, has shaped who I am.
Much like other young to middle-aged men at the beginning of fall, I am now the coach, general manager, and owner of my own football team. This is a serious occupation. I spend much of my time researching free-agent players to see if I can improve my team. I consistently read the injury report to keep my players healthy. I constantly communicate with my fellow coach/general manager/owners to facilitate trades. While some may call this “fantasy” football, it is no fantasy. This is a real commitment, and some people just can’t handle it.
I build a relationship with my players. Forever after the season’s end, I will never forget the players who played for me. I hope Justin Herbert, Chargers QB, will take me to glory this season. The first week didn’t go so well, but I hope to have a strong season. Derrick Henry aka King Henry is my star player, he totaled 8 points in week one, a disappointing performance. He is, however, called King for a reason, so I know he will bring me my crown this season.
Today the OVS surf club opened the year with essentially a perfect dawn patrol. Although the waves weren’t incredible, we had 24 people in the water, and the OVS kids’ energy was immaculate. Even Liam (who was snaking and tackling kids off waves) was keeping everyone in a good mood. For me, that’s what surfing is all about; just having fun in the water. I’m stoked to have such a large surfing crew at OVS. Although I’m not the only surfer and certainly not the best, I was basically the only one pushing Byars for more surf-related activities last year. I mean most of us live less than 30 minutes from the beach and we’ve (at least since I’ve been here) never had this many kids willing and excited to wake up at 5:00 am to get into 64° water. Also with Mr. Mundingbecker being a new edition this year, it seems like we are going to have a real surf team and hopefully, it will add a piece to the OVS Outdoor Education that I think the school has been missing.
This is a vignette I wrote over the summer at a creative writing camp I attended. Enjoy.
Syracuse wound through the maze of a prison, following behind his human who led him by the reins. He kept catching Riven’s eye beside him, but neither of them dared to snuffle or neigh to each other for fear of alerting the things their humans feared to their presence. Their humans seemed anxious enough just from the quiet clacking of their hooves on the concrete.
The deformed humans in the cells stared, but were unable to vocalize in any way. The gouges and scars covering their faces were horrifying even without their monstrous, misshapen bodies, so Syracuse tried to keep his eyes anywhere but on those creepy humans. Riven’s skin twitched when something skittered behind him and brushed against his fetlocks, but he did his best to remain calm so he wouldn’t set off his human.
The ground gradually shifted from concrete, to bricks, to carpeted floor. Syracuse and Riven’s hooves were nearly silent on the carpet, and they stared up in wonder as the scenery around them changed to reveal a room bigger than their stable with gold-embellished bookshelves lining every wall from floor to ceiling. However, no matter how much they wanted to explore, their humans kept tugging at them fretfully and they ended up hurrying through the room without being able to get close enough to see a single book title.
Syracuse and Riven were led through several more halls that seemed like they were part of a residency wing of the castle. After what felt like eons to them, their humans brought them up to a massive set of oak doors.
Riven’s human stepped up and pulled one door open. Despite how immense they were, the hinges were perfectly greased and made no noise as the door swung in and flooded the dark entryway with blinding light.
Syracuse and Riven squinted into the sun as their humans took them outside. When their sensitive eyes finally adjusted, they had to stop to gaze upon the gorgeous, sprawling mountains and sheer, marble cliff sides.
Their humans pulled at the reins again, urging on the horses with clucking noises and kisses, and Syracuse and Riven reluctantly moved. They were led down a winding path, and when the road straightened out again, their humans stopped them so that they could mount.
There was no more time to admire the views once their humans were on their backs. Heels dug into their ribs as the humans nudged them into full gallops to get as far from the dreadful castle as they could.
My high school baseball career has come to a close.
I recently contracted Covid-19 which caused me to miss our round 2 playoff game, which would ultimately be the final game of our season and final game of my high school career. It was a weird feeling knowing I just my time as a high school athlete ended without being able to do anything about it. I got so many texts and phone calls from people telling me how sorry they were that this happened to me but I didn’t feel sorry for myself nor did I feel any emotion at all. I was just focused on making sure the people around me didn’t get sick while everyone else was focused on the fact I can no longer play high school baseball.
The funny thing is I am content with my career coming to end the way it did. For instance, in the last game I played in we won, our school got its first-ever playoff win in school history, and I balled out. So there’s no bad taste in my mouth about how my high career came to an end. I am also playing baseball in college so that makes this ending not too bad.
However, there are a few things I miss about high school ball. I’ll miss the road trips to away games, the inside jokes with the guys, getting yelled at by my head coach, and getting out of class early on gamedays. I’ll miss the early morning lifts, the post-game workouts, the late nights hitting off the tee, the extra work after practices, the sprints, batting practice, catching bullpens the day after catching a whole game because we don’t have a backup catcher. But the one thing I’ll miss the most the memories I’ve made with all my teammates.
Recently at UFC 274, new #1 contender Charles Oliveira called out Conor McGregor to compete for the vacant lightweight title after losing his title due to not weighing in at the proper weight. I understand that Oliveira is chasing the PPV dollars that come from challenging The Champ Champ, but in the long run of his career, it is a big mistake. In my opinion, Oliveira would be killed if he stepped into the octagon with McGregor due to one key factor. This factor is Oliveira’s terrible eyesight. Oliveira is a world-class level fighter, only being relinquished from his title due to missing weight, however, one thing that not many fans may know is that Oliveira must wear glasses outside of the ring due to his compartmentalized vision. This obviously affects him in the octagon, as he cannot wear glasses. Against most of his other opponents, this hasn’t jeopardized his career entirely, however, we have seen Oliveira be grounded by pure strikes like in the Gaethje fight where he got dropped by a nice uppercut. Against McGregor, a striking genius, Oliveria would be down and out in the first round; of my life. I believe that Oliveira’s jiu-jitsu gives him a chance, but McGregor’s takedown, defense and range would really restrict his game to only haphazard striking, which is not the optimal plan of attack against a world-class striker. For these reasons, I believe Charles Oliveira should not have called out Conor McGregor, but regardless it’s impossible to know until the fight happens, so until then, we’ll see.
Pretty much since the beginning of COVID, I’ve been a pretty big Formula One fan. Although my favorite driver/team changes frequently, my undying hate for Redbull and Max Verstappen has not changed. With the increasing amount of seasons of Drive to Survive and Redbull’s latest success, half of Formula one media either involves Christian Horner or Max. I cannot stand it, the father-son relationship between Max and Christian is appalling. The amount of money that Redbull is willing to dish out to make Max happy is so annoying. They design the entire car for this literal child to just crash into people and the wall. He’s far too aggressive and dangerous for Formula one which is exemplified greatly by the last couple of seasons of Formula One. He actively breaks every rule he can and was even given his World Championship on a silver platter. I have no idea how this spoiled excuse of a driver has a seat in one of the top teams. I get that he’s fast, but he has almost double the number of crashes as he has podiums. I bet half of RB’s budget is spent on repairing this kid’s car because he clearly can’t keep it away from the wall or other people’s cars. Max is really just a Mustang driver who made it too far in motorsport.
Photo Credit: Wikipedia
Similarly, if you watch the sky sports coverage, and/or Drive to Survive, you’re probably aware of the absurd amount of Christian Horner in both. The only team principal that’s ever interviewed mid-race in the Sky Sports coverage is Christian Horner and he never has anything useful to say. Not only that but he probably has more screen time on Drive to Survive than every single driver or team principal. All because he eats this reality TV crap up for dinner. I’ve never seen anyone on any sports-related reality tv who likes to hear themselves talk more than Christian. And all he does is sit there like an idiot and complain about Mercedes and Todo who never did anything to them except win. Oh no, Mercedes is better than you. I understand that it sucks to lose especially for an extended period of time, but why do you have to whine and moan about it for an entire season of DTS it’s debilitating. I just want a normal season of Drive to Survive where Christan shuts up and we actually get other voices than his dumb British accent and his ugly eStAtE.
My favorite video game series ever is FIFA. I grew up playing the career mode and play nows against my cousins, so playing today reminds me of those times. I remember once, my cousin played me when I was 8 and he kept the ball the whole game, scoring at the last minute of each half. I cried the whole time, but he blocked the door and wouldn’t let me stop playing.
Anyways, in the 10 years since then, I have grown up with FIFA. I moved from career mode to online seasons in FIFA 17 and switched to the ultimate team in FIFA 22. I play in my free time and I played all summer, so I got really good this year, but when school started, I realized I couldn’t play because the wifi at my grandparents was so bad. Solely playing on the weekends didn’t suffice, I needed a solution.
That’s when I realized I could play at school during free periods. Since that realization, I have been playing on the college counseling room tv during all my frees and have been doing homework at home instead of during frees.
I am excited for school to be out so I can play FIFA all year. Here is a photo of my ultimate team’s best player’s card.
On Thursday, April, 28th the first round of the 2022 NFL Draft took place.
Months prior NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell read off the words, “With the first overall pick…” rapper Drake bet 100k that USC standout wide receiver Drake London would be the first receiver to be drafted. Drake posted a screenshot of his bet on his Instagram, captioning the story post, “Drake betting on Drake just feels right” And Drake was right, London was the first receiver taken off the board going 8th overall to Atlanta.
pc: @champagnepapi Instgram
Drake’s bet earned the rapper $335,000.00. London got a kick out of it but he was definitely more excited than he is about joining the NFL
Drake London reacts to Drake making $335,000 off him, after placing the bet that he would be first wide receiver taken. pic.twitter.com/HTtMtwJpky
OVS Journalism Blog 
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