Erick Ribota
Mr. Juarez
11/25/12
Autobiography Born October 20, 1993 in East Los Angeles into a Mexican family with a beautiful mother and an influential father, I always wanted to be just like both of them. Soccer has been my way of life ever since I could remember. Since I was in the womb. I got my first soccer cleats before I was a one year old. Before I could even walk. We lived in a small house all the way on top of the hill. I don’t remember much of that place since I was too young to remember anything from that time. I just know that it was packed with all of my father’s brothers and sisters lived there. Along with their husbands and wives. I only remember the days from when we moved into the valley. I’ve always looked up to my dad. I remember he used to tell me stories about how back in Mexico they used to cut a hole in the school fence and sneak into the field just to play soccer. All of his stories about adventure always had me entertained, and still do. When I was younger I would want to dress like him and imitate almost all of his acts. From the boots and sombrero he would wear to the flavor of the soda he would choose at McDonalds. He’s always pushed me to go for success. He’s a part-time coach in a way. If it wasn’t for my dad I don’t think I’d have that hunger and strive to move forward with things. My mom is pretty much the opposite of my father. She’s calm and one of the kindest people out there. She’ll never make me do something I wouldn’t want to do. My mom is honestly the base of our family. She’s the kind of person that’ll probably miss a meal just to make sure you had something to eat. My mom constantly sends out money to help out our family in Mexico and she’ll never forget someone’s birthday. My mom’s just thoughtful and respectful before anything else. She might not have stories about running from the law like my father, but I