This a field note Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 750 words

This a field note - Essay Example I want to relay the commentators’ views verbatim, but I am at a loss. No matter how I probe my brain to remember how they said things, all I can remember were the feelings those words had on me. Still, in this narrative, I will try to relay the details by interpreting and paraphrasing what was retained in my memory (Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw 75). Additionally, in this account, I will also try as much as possible to refer to scenes as I have personally experienced and seen them, to provide the most detailed account of the event I want to narrate (Emerson, Fretz, and Shaw 83). In reference to the title I chose, I am not saying that people are asking for blood, but boxing, as we know it, sort of makes one expect that the more bloody the event is, the more exhilarating the winning is. This was what I felt during the hours of watching a spectacular boxing match a couple of months ago. I was at home cozily sitting on the plush brown sofa I chose to sit on for the event. On the mahoga ny center table, I placed a large bowl of yellow buttered popcorn that I just got out from the microwave. The flavorful scent that permeated the air made me smile as I placed a tall glass of iced tea beside the glass bowl. I was preparing myself to be as excited as the crowd because it is a very much talked about match. Curious to see what this titleholder has to offer, I began to immerse myself in the game. I was trying to listen to what the commentators were saying, and the crowd’s piercing screams caused me a frown or two occasionally. By the middle part of the match, my hands were already clammy with cold sweat. I did not realize I was so much taken by the events inside the ring. I clutched my white handkerchief, gripping it every time a good punch was given. My heartbeat was already above normal at that time, feeling like I took a 15-minute brisk walk. What really held my interest were the cuts and wounds on T’s face. I do not want to imagine how it feels like to have swollen flesh with nasty-looking cuts being hit with strong punches every few minutes or so. I could swear I see T’s grimace towards the latter part of the game. I even began to wonder whether they were really grimaces or his face was just badly swollen and disfigured. The camera zoomed across the audience at the end of every round. It focused on faces smiling, laughing, and anxious. The noise and screaming were overwhelming. Funny how the camera seems to quickly catch standout expressions like mouths wide open to scream their taunts and jeers. I noticed one teenage person in bright red shirt whose freckled face appeared to be more freckled as he seemed to shout his outrage. I particularly do not know what he is mad about, but his expression told me a lot. He kept nudging his other companions while waving and pointing his fingers towards the ring, making all verbal gestures that spoke of how agitated he was. On the other hand, some played it cool, casually smiling, and l aughing with their friends, or even strangers who happen to be near them. Observing the crowd made me feel like I was there with them; the only difference is the advantage of watching specific angles of the whole arena. The bell for the last two rounds rang and the crowd sounded more frenzied. Everyone