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Hello everybody! I am here, as I'm preparing to my TOEFL and have problems with writing section. Below is my essay and I need someone's opinion about it. Any advices and corrections will be very helpful. Thanks in advance.
Buried under the warm covers of my bed, I let out a sigh of content, snuggling deeper into the warm, cozy blankets. "Ah, it's the weekend and I can sleep in today, it's time to get up, you don't want to be late for this!" Groaning and rolling around on my bed, I think to myself, what's so important that I have to wake up at SEVEN in the morning on a weekend?
The realization hits me like a bus, and I leap out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. Today was the day of the international squash tournament, how could I forget? Rushing to the bathroom, I yell, coming and quickly run back to the living room for breakfast.
Laid out in front of me was a lavish spread of yummy food. Orange juice, toast, eggs, milk, cereal, and fruit covered the table and I was drooling just looking at it. Piling my plate high with toast and eggs, I downed the feast in record speed and headed back to my room to get dressed and pack. Pulling my hair into a secure ponytail and checking for anything I forgot, which would usually be my toothbrush or hairbrush, I gathered my bags and jogged to the front door. Slipping on my shoes and a jacket, I waited for my family to get ready. As soon as we locked the door, I grabbed the keys from my dad's hand and bounded down the stairs towards the car. Loading all of the bags in, I slipped into the car and sat restlessly on the seat, jittery with nerves for the full three hour drive.
Reaching after what felt like an eternity, I hopped out of the car and slowly made my way up to the building. Stepping through the glass doors, I felt a wave of exhilaration wash over me. The sound of the small, black rubber balls hitting against the wall made a fast, tapping sound, the rubber of the shoes squeaked and skidded across the freshly sanded wooden floors. Excitement, tension, and chatter filled the air, shouts of frustration and triumph echoed through the halls, and all I could think about was getting upstairs and warming up.
12:30pm. The time of the match comes. My opponent walks through the door, and we start our five minute warm up. Once we're done, it's time to decide who gets the first serve. "Up or down?" she asks. Up. I reply. It landed up. Leaving the court to get my water and gather my nerves before the start, I walk up to my dad. My heart is racing, adrenaline pumping throughout my body as my dad relays to me tactics and techniques.
12:45, I serve the ball. Back and forth, back and forth, the ball moves around the court. My feet shuffling across the floor, the sound of the rubber screeching and heavy breathing. It went in the same pattern, she hit the ball hard, I would stumble and get it, and she would put it away. 11-8. The game ends, and I lost, the first game barely even lasting over seven minutes. Walking out of the court to hydrate, my dad comes up to me, reassures me that it's okay, that I still have two more games to go until the end. The next two games go by in a blur. It was as if my feet were rooted to the ground, not allowing me to move towards the ball and hit it. I just stood there in defeat, thinking that I was a loser and that there was no point in trying because regardless, I would lose. 11-5, 11-6, the match is over and my opponent doesn't even look like she has played any squash, whereas I"m all flustered and sweaty, frustration emitting off me in red, hot waves. I shake the girl's hand, an almost incoherent mumble of "good game" coming from my mouth. I had lost all three games in a row. A best of five match over in an easy, straight set victory for my opponent.
Sighing in defeat, I open the door of the court, shake the referee hands and walk towards my dad. Chucking my racquet to the ground and huffing in frustration, my dad comes up to me to talk.
I"m barely listening to what he's saying, thinking the whole time to myself, "C'mon Baani, you played horrible, what's wrong with you?"
Shaking my head, I drag my way over to my bag to pack up my things and leave. The next match was in the next five hours and we were going to go to a hotel to settle down and eat lunch. On the car ride there, I sit, staring out the window and pondering over how I played. "Terrible" was the only word that came to mind. " I wish I had played better, I wish I had put up more of a fight, I wish I hadn't just given up. Next time" I thought to myself.
I had a few hours until the next match. I still had a chance to redeem myself. Coming here today taught me how much I needed to improve my game, how much competition is out there in the world. It taught me that there are no second chances in reality, that when you're out there in the real world, you've got to do things right the first time. Shake off the nerves, the tension, and the stress;just play and have fun. Having the opportunity to play in this tournament and see what competition lies ahead taught me that I needed to work for a win, that it would take a ton of energy and focus. I had come this far, and I wasn't going down without a fight.
Sources:
Grammarly - free grammar mistakes checker
writemyessay.pro - professional writers help
Chegg - Online Tutoring
Buried under the warm covers of my bed, I let out a sigh of content, snuggling deeper into the warm, cozy blankets. "Ah, it's the weekend and I can sleep in today, it's time to get up, you don't want to be late for this!" Groaning and rolling around on my bed, I think to myself, what's so important that I have to wake up at SEVEN in the morning on a weekend?
The realization hits me like a bus, and I leap out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. Today was the day of the international squash tournament, how could I forget? Rushing to the bathroom, I yell, coming and quickly run back to the living room for breakfast.
Laid out in front of me was a lavish spread of yummy food. Orange juice, toast, eggs, milk, cereal, and fruit covered the table and I was drooling just looking at it. Piling my plate high with toast and eggs, I downed the feast in record speed and headed back to my room to get dressed and pack. Pulling my hair into a secure ponytail and checking for anything I forgot, which would usually be my toothbrush or hairbrush, I gathered my bags and jogged to the front door. Slipping on my shoes and a jacket, I waited for my family to get ready. As soon as we locked the door, I grabbed the keys from my dad's hand and bounded down the stairs towards the car. Loading all of the bags in, I slipped into the car and sat restlessly on the seat, jittery with nerves for the full three hour drive.
Reaching after what felt like an eternity, I hopped out of the car and slowly made my way up to the building. Stepping through the glass doors, I felt a wave of exhilaration wash over me. The sound of the small, black rubber balls hitting against the wall made a fast, tapping sound, the rubber of the shoes squeaked and skidded across the freshly sanded wooden floors. Excitement, tension, and chatter filled the air, shouts of frustration and triumph echoed through the halls, and all I could think about was getting upstairs and warming up.
12:30pm. The time of the match comes. My opponent walks through the door, and we start our five minute warm up. Once we're done, it's time to decide who gets the first serve. "Up or down?" she asks. Up. I reply. It landed up. Leaving the court to get my water and gather my nerves before the start, I walk up to my dad. My heart is racing, adrenaline pumping throughout my body as my dad relays to me tactics and techniques.
12:45, I serve the ball. Back and forth, back and forth, the ball moves around the court. My feet shuffling across the floor, the sound of the rubber screeching and heavy breathing. It went in the same pattern, she hit the ball hard, I would stumble and get it, and she would put it away. 11-8. The game ends, and I lost, the first game barely even lasting over seven minutes. Walking out of the court to hydrate, my dad comes up to me, reassures me that it's okay, that I still have two more games to go until the end. The next two games go by in a blur. It was as if my feet were rooted to the ground, not allowing me to move towards the ball and hit it. I just stood there in defeat, thinking that I was a loser and that there was no point in trying because regardless, I would lose. 11-5, 11-6, the match is over and my opponent doesn't even look like she has played any squash, whereas I"m all flustered and sweaty, frustration emitting off me in red, hot waves. I shake the girl's hand, an almost incoherent mumble of "good game" coming from my mouth. I had lost all three games in a row. A best of five match over in an easy, straight set victory for my opponent.
Sighing in defeat, I open the door of the court, shake the referee hands and walk towards my dad. Chucking my racquet to the ground and huffing in frustration, my dad comes up to me to talk.
I"m barely listening to what he's saying, thinking the whole time to myself, "C'mon Baani, you played horrible, what's wrong with you?"
Shaking my head, I drag my way over to my bag to pack up my things and leave. The next match was in the next five hours and we were going to go to a hotel to settle down and eat lunch. On the car ride there, I sit, staring out the window and pondering over how I played. "Terrible" was the only word that came to mind. " I wish I had played better, I wish I had put up more of a fight, I wish I hadn't just given up. Next time" I thought to myself.
I had a few hours until the next match. I still had a chance to redeem myself. Coming here today taught me how much I needed to improve my game, how much competition is out there in the world. It taught me that there are no second chances in reality, that when you're out there in the real world, you've got to do things right the first time. Shake off the nerves, the tension, and the stress;just play and have fun. Having the opportunity to play in this tournament and see what competition lies ahead taught me that I needed to work for a win, that it would take a ton of energy and focus. I had come this far, and I wasn't going down without a fight.
Sources:
Grammarly - free grammar mistakes checker
writemyessay.pro - professional writers help
Chegg - Online Tutoring
Hi CrystalKranz,
Great essay. TOEFL essays are different though. You can find out more about essays here: https://gmatclub.com/forum/toefl-instru ... 46203.html
Here is a short overview of essay types:
Great essay. TOEFL essays are different though. You can find out more about essays here: https://gmatclub.com/forum/toefl-instru ... 46203.html
Here is a short overview of essay types:
Quote:
Very Nice. 10 out of 10.
Schools: AGSM'26 (S)
Posts: 4
This is incredibly insightful advice — especially the emphasis on introspection and aligning your current experience with the skills Wharton offers. I appreciate the practical approach of researching job descriptions and talking to hiring managers before writing. It’s a great reminder that this essay is as much about clarity and planning as it is about passion. Thanks for sharing such a grounded and strategic perspective!
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