Since childhood, sports have always been my escape for the hardships life continues to place upon me.

No matter what situation I had to face, all it took was a pick-up game among friends to help me forget my troubles. But this time my troubles aren’t with life, they’re with sports itself. This year my favorite escape has become my disappointing enclosure.

From the Michael Vick trial to the Patriots spy-gate scandal, my year in sports has been nothing far from criticism towards the actions or performances of my favorite players, teams, coaches, and the leagues they compete in.

It all began this time last year, with the first round playoff defeat of my hometown team the Dallas Mavericks.

All season long I screamed and shouted “championship,” as my Mavs ranked first in the NBA. Led by the league’s MVP Dirk Nowitzki, the Mavericks however, disappointed fans and critics all over the world with an embarrassing performance against the Golden State Warriors.

As a Dallas native and a fan of the franchise since Jason Kidd’s first debut in a Dallas uniform, I felt duped.

After all the talk and all the hype the Mavericks showed the world they barked a lot louder then they could bite. And this year proved it to me with Dallas once again in the first round falling behind to a younger and inexperienced New Orleans Hornets. It seems as if history was destined to repeat itself.

As my least favorite team, the San Antonio Spurs wrapped up the NBA season with yet another championship title to display at their corporate headquarters.

My attention shifted to what I like to call God’s gift to man, football. Yes the good ole’ gridiron. Although baseball is considered to be America’s pastime, I have yet to find a baseball fan willing to turn off a Colts vs.. Patriots game for a Red Socks and Yankees encounter.

I knew the season wasn’t going to be what I expected even before it officially began when I first heard news about the murder of Ft. Worth native and Denver Broncos Cornerback Darrent Williams, whom I admired for his impressive attributes as a player and as an activist in giving back to his hometown and its citizens.

The season went on however, with a smile on my face as I watched the Dallas Cowboys erase the memory of last year’s Tony Romo botched field-goal opportunity with a record of 13-3, best in the NFC. I felt as if I was 9 years old again and about to watch history in the making.

Truly I thought I would witness for the fourth time in my life the Cowboys capturing the Vince Lombarde Trophy. But just as the Mavericks before them, the Cowboys fell short to another of my least favorite teams the New York Giants, who stunned evryone by become Super Bowl Champions.

As I managed to contain my grief in hopes that baseball would fill my void, the exposure of two out of my all-time favorite baseball players (Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens) as steroids users ended my year with not a bang but a whimper.

Because I’m sure it’s every boy’s dream to watch those he so admired be publicly beheaded by the media, their family, friends, and fans. No? well maybe it’s just me.

Despite my disappointment in sports this year I was not disappointed in the encouragement and support of you, the readers, who have motivated me to purse my passion and excel beyond its limits.

I also would like to mention my staff mates who have kept me focused from day one, as well as my Co-Editor Shanita Brown.

I would like to give a special thank you to my two favorite instructors Mrs. Laura Krantz and Dr. Linda Gary, who both provided guidance in helping me expand on my craft.

To staff of next fall I would like to leave them with some words of encouragement.

“Great writers are not born, they are made, from all the criticism, all the corrections, and all the rejections. Great writers persevere over tragedies and downfalls to rise above the rest.”

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