ابا قصة عن كرة السلة
ضروري ابا اليوم
اختي شو طبيعة القصة اللي تبينها..؟.
وتبينها بالانجليزي ولا العربي..
بانتظارج..
ابا بانجليزي
بس تقرير..:(
ان شاء الله غيري يساعدج اكثر عني..
اختي لو عنتج قصه عن اي رياضة
It was a warm summer afternoon during my third year of really learning and working at a game that had become my life. Yes that was me, the kid in elementary school always picked last, but who had grown those two left feet into some semblance of grace. I had a sweet jump shot, a quick little hook, and a love of banging under the boards hard enough to make Sir Charles envious.
Every day in that schoolyard I worked on my jump shot, my handles and feet, and learned to play defense. I was mastering the basics of a game that in its purity is such a beautiful thing. Every afternoon, that schoolyard was my home … "My House," as they say. I knew every bump in that asphalt, every fault in the rims–every sweet spot I had was on that schoolyard.
Then came that day, a summer day when everything came together. My shot was dropping, my post-up was working, my handles were quick enough. He knew every move and weakness, yet I was able to sustain. He taught me everything on that blacktop, and finally that day had come. That beautiful sound of the swish of the net, moving Him into the post, feeling His body sense what I’m going to do, yet being unable to stop it until the last shot fell. I finally beat Him. I finally beat my Dad.
I love you, Dad.
بالتوفيق..
والسموحة سيتم تغيير العنوان..
بالتوفيق ان شاء الله..