Show don't tell

Speedball is fun. Instead of this simple sentence, a more riveting description of my favorite school time activity can be supplied. 

Physics is coming to an end. I couldn't be happier. I stare at the clock for the last three minutes of class. Each second takes longer than the last. I will the second hand to move faster. As if it hears me, it finally crosses the twelve and the bell rings. I race to pack up my belongings and rush out the door. I walk through the breezeway to the gym. The moment of anticipation has arrived. I take a breath and smell the cool air lingering in the gym. The scent is specifically attached to the gym. The air is always circulated, however the scent of sweat and wood can be barely made out with each breath. The smell is sweet to me. We line up to pick captains and teams. Players are divided, and Mr. Coleman gets ready to throw the jump ball. He blows the whistle. Competitors jump for the ball. I run for it. The small red ball signifying competition. My hand grasps the ball and I feel my fingers crunch the firm hard foam. I am in control now. No one can stop me. I pass the ball to a teammate a make a move towards the goal. My move is simple but practiced. I have done the move many times before. I am confident I will score. I plant my left foot forward at an angle. I shift my whole body weight to the left and feign movement to that side. Shifting my momentum I use all the strength in my left leg to switch to my right foot. My left shoe slides forward. Time seems to move slower in gym class. I feel the cool brush of the defender's shorts as I maneuver past him. My teammate notices my move and flicks the ball to me. I grasp it again. Excitement rushes up my body. Four feet from the goal with the ball in my hand. The small red ball gives me power. I know what to do. I pull back my arm and with all my strength force it forward. The last of the ball's cool red foamy surface leaves the tips of my fingers as it soars through the air to it's destination. I stare my target down. I notice a faint rip in the corner of the netting. The once bright red pole is scratched at signs of aging. The ball breaks through the air into the net. I hear the sound of foam colliding with netting. The netting stretches and seems to rip. The ball than touches the ground. The red ball full of power. It has served its purpose.