What a last four years it’s been.

I’ve been in this district since I was 5 years old. For the last 13 years, I’ve lived a couple of streets away from the high school. Around that same time, I watched the Detroit Tigers go to the World Series, hooking me on baseball for good. I still remember the complete lineup from the first game I ever saw at Comerica Park, which the Tigers lost. I pretended to be that lineup in the yard every day after. I absorbed numbers and names, learning everything there is to know, but in elementary school, nobody else was too interested in that. For the longest time, I had so much to discuss and think about. Writing finally helped me get those thoughts out of my head, whether it was my first year in Writing for Publication or the following three in Sports Report. So to start off, thank you, FHC, for giving me an outlet for what I’m passionate about.

When I first started out at Central Woodlands, it was almost like I didn’t even want to have fun. I acted like I was too cool to show too much energy or spirit for the school. I didn’t really know who I was yet, and I didn’t want to come off as too weird or hyper while I searched for my place. Finding middle school basketball gave me the first opportunity to shed the shell I was in, and even though I was on the B Team, the time playing basketball gave me nothing but good memories. I began to identify the enemy schools, and looking back on it, my short-lived experience playing basketball for the school made me a better fan for what made some of my best high school memories: Football.

Football brought me out of my shell completely. Being part of the student section for every game just made me feel free. I could yell and scream and just be the fan I had always wanted to be, and at least in the first couple of years, everyone else was doing the same thing. Freshman year, I watched as the team went undefeated and scratched and clawed their way to the state championship, only to get absolutely dismantled. While that stung a little bit, it was better than a close loss, because that provides significantly less stress. The year after, all was corrected, as I triumphantly watched as the team handled business in Ford Field, actually taking home the state title. Everyone in that student section with me for every game felt like family, as we got to watch football and chant together. Something that at first was way out of my comfort zone became an actual comfort for me. There simply is no better place to be on a Friday night than watching football.

Tougher than saying goodbye to any friend or teacher around here is saying goodbye to playing baseball. I was on top of the world in my first two years here, playing on the Freshman and JV teams. I could really hit, and the numbers backed it up. I was prepared to make a name for myself at the varsity level and maybe even get some college attention, but it all came screeching to a halt when my knee twisted the wrong way on a June day in Grandville. Tearing my ACL left me on the shelf for nine months post-op, leaving me with only a little time to play my junior year. Despite only getting four at-bats, I made some core memories that year, getting an opportunity to play at LMCU Ballpark for my first game back. I then came back senior year without dreams to play in college; I just wanted to help the team win a few games before I rode off into the sunset. I got all of one at-bat my senior year before going down again with a torn meniscus, promptly ending my high school career. Closing out senior year will always bring about a whirlwind of emotions, but the harsh reality that I had legitimately no chance to play more baseball hit me like a truck. I’m not quite to the point where everything has processed, but I have no doubt that as I look back on my time playing baseball, especially at FHC, I will only remember the best memories and the family I have with this group. I could not be more grateful for my home and what has made me who I am here.

Now all I can do is look ahead. I’m off to the University of Missouri in the fall, which ended up being a much easier decision than expected due to the financial resoures given to me. That isn’t to say I’m not happy to be attending, in fact I’m overjoyed to be headed down to Columbia in August. I look forward to finding a potential career in Sports Journalism or broadcasting, where I think I truly belong. My new life is calling me, and it’s just an eight-hour drive away. As much as I truly love this school, it’s time for what’s next. Go Tigers! I’ll see you on the mic.

Thank you for everything, FHC

Gibby Wierenga