Good Friends :: Friendship Essay

  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Randy and I met in fifth grade; he was the new kid in town and I was in the â€Å"cool group.† So naturally â€Å"the group† chose a person, me, to check out the new kid’s credentials. We talked about his other school and his hobbies, a baseball fan: right here he was a hit. One thing was different about him: he was African-American. I thought he was cool and so did some of the other â€Å"cool† kids, but some thought that he was too different. Right here, I knew that he was never going to make it in the popular crowd.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   One day, my best friend and I decided to visit Randy; he lived right down the street from me so it was no big deal. We rang the doorbell and Randy let us in; his father worked at night, so he was there also. We were introduced to his dad, the coolest guy, and decided to go to the park. Randy told us that he had really appreciated us coming by, because he thought that no one liked him. I hate to say that it was true, but it was; of course, we completely lied and told him that everyone thought he was cool. I knew we couldn’t tell him the truth, it would break the poor kid. As time passed we became very good friends, and to my surprise he did become popular.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Randy was one of those kids who was good at everything, especially basketball; I, on the other hand, was not. So one day, I went to his house and we played basketball. Actually, we really didn’t play basketball at all, he taught me the game. He patiently taught me all the moves; the cool thing was I began to enjoy the game. Randy would not move on to a new skill unless I had completely perfected the one before. It was the first time someone actually forced me to learn a game, and because of this I grew to love it. As a matter of fact, I would go to his house after school every day and he would teach me a little more; I was anxious to learn what he would teach me next. I was becoming a real pro.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   There was just one problem, I couldn’t really keep up with him, because I had very bad Asthma. It affected me in every way, I couldn’t run as quick and I would get Good Friends :: Friendship Essay   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Randy and I met in fifth grade; he was the new kid in town and I was in the â€Å"cool group.† So naturally â€Å"the group† chose a person, me, to check out the new kid’s credentials. We talked about his other school and his hobbies, a baseball fan: right here he was a hit. One thing was different about him: he was African-American. I thought he was cool and so did some of the other â€Å"cool† kids, but some thought that he was too different. Right here, I knew that he was never going to make it in the popular crowd.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   One day, my best friend and I decided to visit Randy; he lived right down the street from me so it was no big deal. We rang the doorbell and Randy let us in; his father worked at night, so he was there also. We were introduced to his dad, the coolest guy, and decided to go to the park. Randy told us that he had really appreciated us coming by, because he thought that no one liked him. I hate to say that it was true, but it was; of course, we completely lied and told him that everyone thought he was cool. I knew we couldn’t tell him the truth, it would break the poor kid. As time passed we became very good friends, and to my surprise he did become popular.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   Randy was one of those kids who was good at everything, especially basketball; I, on the other hand, was not. So one day, I went to his house and we played basketball. Actually, we really didn’t play basketball at all, he taught me the game. He patiently taught me all the moves; the cool thing was I began to enjoy the game. Randy would not move on to a new skill unless I had completely perfected the one before. It was the first time someone actually forced me to learn a game, and because of this I grew to love it. As a matter of fact, I would go to his house after school every day and he would teach me a little more; I was anxious to learn what he would teach me next. I was becoming a real pro.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚   There was just one problem, I couldn’t really keep up with him, because I had very bad Asthma. It affected me in every way, I couldn’t run as quick and I would get