The sun set across the field in pink and orange patterns as the cool night breeze stroked my face. A bright light came from above, which illuminated the familiar field that I call my second home. The silver rays of light reflected off the glistening grass, wet from a mid-afternoon shower, quite ordinary in Miami. As I tightened my shoulder pads and situated my helmet on my head, a trickling trail of sweat escaped from my forehead down the side of my cheek. I wiped it off, knowing that a strenuous night of practice lay before me, and that I had much to accomplish.
At the end of practice, my coach gathered the team together on the field. He stood before us with an announcement, the one I had anxiously been awaiting all year. Every season, my coach gives a pair of Miami Dolphins tickets to a player on the team who has most exemplified leadership, determination, as well as sportsmanship towards fellow teammates. As he spoke to us, my heart raced. I asked myself, “ Had I given my all on the field? Had I been selfless throughout the season and assisted my fellow players?” My questions were soon to be answered.
“This year, I’d like to give these tickets to a special young man, one who has truly fallen in love with the game of football. Day in and day out, he’s shown dedication to not only bettering himself, but the players around him. These tickets go to you, Alejandro, you’ve earned them.”
My jaw hit the ground, and when I attempted to find the words; I couldn’t. This was a dream come true for me, the Miami Dolphins playing at home against my favorite team, the New England Patriots. Now some may ask why I like the Patriots when I live in Miami, but the answer is deeper than a simple explanation.
When I was five years old, my mother and I immigrated to America from Cuba. I vividly recall that night that changed my life forever. Under the cover of darkness, my mother and I got into a boat with a fisherman who was going to take us to America. I remember taking only the clothes on my back and my favorite chain around my neck that my father gave me. When I jumped into the boat, my mother began crying, and I asked why. As the boat suddenly cast off, I noticed that my father was still on the dock. He did not have enough money to pay for his own passage to America, so he sent my mother and I off to a better life where I could grow up and accomplish all of my goals. The last image of my father that I remember was him standing on the dock with tears streaming down his face as I cried for him.
It has been nine years since then, and my chain is all I have to remember my father. But it gives me hope and pushes me to always do my best. When I got to America, I began to watch football and simply got lost in the game. I knew it would be a part of me forever and that I wanted to play in the NFL someday. The first game I ever watched was of the Patriots in their red, white, and blue. These colors spoke to me, spoke of freedom, hope, and possibility.
Sunday came, and my mother and I arrived at Dolphin Stadium. I was wearing my favorite Randy Moss jersey. He was the Patriot’s newest player, and my favorite. As we walked through the tunnel that opened up to the field, I stared in awe. Never before had I seen such a sight in my entire life. My seats were 1st row behind the end zone, amazing!

During the second quarter, Tom Brady threw a pass 50 yards to Randy Moss, which he caught for a touch down. I went into a frenzy, screaming at the top of my lungs, “RANDY!”. Then, he approached me, extended out his arm, and handed me the football. I was so ecstatic that all I could say was, “Thank you”.
Then he smiled and said, “No, thank you”.
As I beamed with joy, I looked at my mother, who had tears in her eyes. I asked what was wrong, and she said to me, “Nunca para de soñar mi hijo, nunca”, never stop dreaming my son, never.