My first life began in November,1904.I was happy and in excellent health. Then I got married and became the father of two lovely girls. I had a good job and a beautiful home.Life was a pleasant dream.

The dream ended suddenly. Then began my second life.

I suffered from a rare disease that affected my motor abilities, first my right arm and leg, then the whole body. Every day after work I climbed up the 14 steps leading up from the garage to the kitchen door, lifting one foot up one step and then dragging the other painfully after it. Repeating the process 14 times was a huge effort for me.As time passed, I became more upset.I wondered why I had been chosen to suffer.

Then on a dark night in August, 1971, I began my third life. Raindrops were beating down hard on the car when I drove slowly down one of the less-traveled roads .Suddenly the wheel(方 向盘)jumped in my hands as one of the tires burst with a bang . I fought the car to a stop and sat there as the terrible nature of the situation swept over me.It was impossible for me to change that tire! Absolutely impossible!

A thought that a passing motorist might stop was deserted at once. Why should anyone?I knew I wouldn’t! Then I remembered that a short distance up a little side road was a house.I started the engine and drove slowly along until I came to the house. Lighted windows welcomed me as I pulled into the driveway and sounded the horn(喇叭) .

The door opened and a little girl stood there, looking at me. I rolled down the window and called out that I had a flat tire and needed someone to change it for me because I had a crutch (拐杖) and couldn’t do it myself.

Paragraph 1:She went into the house and later came out followed by an old man.

Paragraph 2:I held out a five-dollar bill to her grandpa, but got no response.

The newfound team, now officially known as the Wildcats, started their basketball journey with a mix of eagerness and anxiety. The community center’s basketball court became their arena (竞技场), a place where failures were just stepping stones to success, and every dribble (运球), pass, and shot was a lesson in disguise.

Under Mr. Jordan’s guidance, practices became more than just learning how to play basketball; they were about discovering the strengths within and the power of unity. He had an approach to seeing the potential in every player.

One afternoon, as the team gathered around Mr. Jordan, he introduced a new drill that focused on passing and communication. “Basketball is a language,” he explained. “If you can’t communicate, you can’t win. This drill will help you understand each other without words. ”

The drill was a disaster at first. Passes went wrong, and frustration mounted. Jasmine’s quick passes were too swift for Mia, and Lucas’s attempts at humor during the drill only led to more confusion. Eli, ever the observer, noticed the tension and suggested a simple system of hand signals they had discussed in a previous practice. Gradually, the team began to find their rhythm, learning to anticipate each other’s moves and communicate more effectively.

It wasn’t just basketball skills that the Wildcats were developing; it was a sense of belonging and trust in one another. Each practice ended with a team gathering, where Mr. Jordan shared stories from his coaching days, emphasizing the lessons learned from losses more than wins.

In a meeting room, I faced the judges seated behind a table holding my fate in their hands. These same judges had rejected me twice before. This was my last chance. Would it finally be my_turn?

“Tell us, Jason,” one judge said, “why do you want to be Pistol Pete?” That summer I watched a cowboy football game. I was attracted by Pistol Pete. He was larger than our body. He could get everyone in the entire stadium on their feet shouting “Come on!” and make sure they had fun. Being the mascot (吉祥物) fit my personality. I loved getting attention — and a laugh. I didn't have the leg or the speed to play football. But no one could top me when it came to school spirit.

I entered a national high school mascot competition and finished twelfth. When tryouts (选拔) for Pistol Pete were announced during my first year at university, my academic adviser encouraged me to work hard at the mascot training. Then came the interview with the judges. The main question was, “Why do you want to be Pistol Pete？”

“Because I’ve been training for this all my life,” I told the judges.

The judges gathered the candidates to announce their decision. They'd selected two students. I could only watch as those two students jumped into the air.

I talked about my dream to my co-workers at my part-time job, and they were behind me 100 percent. When tryouts came the following spring, I was more than ready. Then I stepped before the judges again.

“You know me from last year,” I said. “You know how badly I want this. And you know how good I’d be.” I thought it was a done deal that I’d spend my senior year being Pistol Pete, living my dream.

The judges didn’t call my name.

I added my name to the list one last time,_______________________________________________