Looking back on my time at ETHS, I can say that the memories are mostly happy ones. I’ve had plenty of fun teachers and made some great friends along the way. All in all, it’s safe to say that Evanston has kept me occupied, but above all, I can say my most transformative and fond memories come from wearing an orange and blue jersey that says “Evanston” across the front. Through playing sports at ETHS, I’ve met friends that I’m sure I’ll have for a lifetime, faced adversity, and learned to rise above it.
Coming out of middle school, I never would’ve thought I’d be as involved in athletics as I am now. Back then, I was a chubby little runt, not exactly the kind of kid you’d immediately label an athlete. Nonetheless, I gave sports a shot, and quickly I found out I loved it. My sport of choice? You probably could’ve guessed it—football. Maybe it was the constant competition, maybe it was the grind, or maybe I was just having fun. I walked into the summer camp as a freshman here, knowing no one on the team.
I wasn’t just a one-trick pony. I gave wrestling a shot, but it wasn’t for me. My junior year, I picked up lacrosse and found that the sport was able to match the brotherhood that I had grown to love in football, so I decided to ride that out for the last two years of high school—not to mention, it’s pretty fun.
Slowly but surely, teammates turned into brothers, and all of a sudden, I had 50 guys I could call my family. Before I knew it, time was flying by, and I was a senior, embracing my brothers one last time before I took off the orange and blue #77 jersey for the last time.
One of the overarching lessons I learned through athletics, and more importantly at a place like Evanston, is that character and pride in the community are valued more than wins and losses. Not to say we didn’t win anything—we actually got some decent street cred when we beat our cross-town rivals back to back on homecoming. But beyond that, win, lose, or draw, I found that having that “E” on my chest always gave me pride in what I was doing.
