I've been lurking on this forum for a while, and I finally decided to post because I feel like my situation is different from what I usually see here. I'm not trying to make excuses, but I want to offer a perspective that doesn't get talked about much: the student-athlete grind. 
I'm a competitive hockey player. Have been since I was six. I'm not just playing for fun—I'm on a travel team, practice six days a week, games every weekend, tournaments that take me out of state for days at a time. I'm being recruited by Division I schools. Hockey is my ticket to college. Without it, I wouldn't even be able to afford applications, let tuition. But here's the thing: hockey takes EVERYTHING.
On a normal week, I'm up at 5 AM for practice before school. School from 8-3. Homework on the bus to afternoon practice. Practice from 4-7. Home by 8, eat, shower, maybe an hour of homework, asleep by 10. Repeat. Weekends are tournaments—sometimes hours away, sometimes overnight. I'm exhausted all the time. I don't have "free time." I don't have "weekends." I have hockey and school and that's it.
When application season rolled around, I was already drowning. I had to maintain my grades, keep my hockey stats up, talk to recruiters, visit campuses, AND write essays? Something had to give. And it was the essays. I stared at blank documents for weeks. I'd write a sentence, fall asleep, wake up, delete it. I had ideas—I wanted to write about perseverance, about teamwork, about the sacrifices my family made for my dream—but I couldn't get them on paper. My brain was too fried.
My coach actually suggested it. He said, "Look, you're not a writer. You're an athlete. Get help. Focus on what you're good at." At first, I was offended. But then I thought about it. He was right. I'm not a writer. I'm a hockey player. And if paying someone to help me write meant I could focus on my sport and my grades, wasn't that smart?
I found a service that specialized in student-athletes. They understood the time constraints, the pressure, the unique challenges. I had a call with a writer who used to be a college athlete himself. He got it. He asked about my journey, my injuries, my comeback from a broken wrist sophomore year. He asked about my teammates, my coaches, my parents. He took all my rambling and turned it into an essay about resilience—not generic resilience, but specific, hockey-related resilience. The time I played through a concussion (stupid, I know, but it happened). The time we lost the championship and I had to lead the team through that loss. The time my dad drove me to practice at 4 AM for a week straight when my mom was sick.
The essay was good. Really good. It was my story, my voice, my experiences, but structured and polished in a way I couldn't do myself. I spent a few hours tweaking it, making sure it sounded like me, and submitted it. I got into my top-choice school with a partial athletic scholarship. I'm here now.
Sometimes I feel guilty. Like I took a shortcut. But then I think about the 20 hours a week I spend on the ice, the early mornings, the injuries, the sacrifices. I've earned my spot. The essay was just one piece of the puzzle. And honestly? If I'd spent those weeks stressing over essays instead of practicing, I might not have gotten the scholarship that's paying for my education. It was a trade-off, and I made the right choice for me.
Don't let anyone shame you for getting help. Your path is different. Your time is different. Your priorities are different. If you need help with your essay so you can focus on your sport, do it. Just make sure the final product still sounds like you. Because at the end of the day, your story is what matters. And you have a good one.
Anyone else out there navigating the student-athlete application nightmare? I'd love to hear your stories.
I'm a competitive hockey player. Have been since I was six. I'm not just playing for fun—I'm on a travel team, practice six days a week, games every weekend, tournaments that take me out of state for days at a time. I'm being recruited by Division I schools. Hockey is my ticket to college. Without it, I wouldn't even be able to afford applications, let tuition. But here's the thing: hockey takes EVERYTHING.
On a normal week, I'm up at 5 AM for practice before school. School from 8-3. Homework on the bus to afternoon practice. Practice from 4-7. Home by 8, eat, shower, maybe an hour of homework, asleep by 10. Repeat. Weekends are tournaments—sometimes hours away, sometimes overnight. I'm exhausted all the time. I don't have "free time." I don't have "weekends." I have hockey and school and that's it.
When application season rolled around, I was already drowning. I had to maintain my grades, keep my hockey stats up, talk to recruiters, visit campuses, AND write essays? Something had to give. And it was the essays. I stared at blank documents for weeks. I'd write a sentence, fall asleep, wake up, delete it. I had ideas—I wanted to write about perseverance, about teamwork, about the sacrifices my family made for my dream—but I couldn't get them on paper. My brain was too fried.
My coach actually suggested it. He said, "Look, you're not a writer. You're an athlete. Get help. Focus on what you're good at." At first, I was offended. But then I thought about it. He was right. I'm not a writer. I'm a hockey player. And if paying someone to help me write meant I could focus on my sport and my grades, wasn't that smart?
I found a service that specialized in student-athletes. They understood the time constraints, the pressure, the unique challenges. I had a call with a writer who used to be a college athlete himself. He got it. He asked about my journey, my injuries, my comeback from a broken wrist sophomore year. He asked about my teammates, my coaches, my parents. He took all my rambling and turned it into an essay about resilience—not generic resilience, but specific, hockey-related resilience. The time I played through a concussion (stupid, I know, but it happened). The time we lost the championship and I had to lead the team through that loss. The time my dad drove me to practice at 4 AM for a week straight when my mom was sick.
The essay was good. Really good. It was my story, my voice, my experiences, but structured and polished in a way I couldn't do myself. I spent a few hours tweaking it, making sure it sounded like me, and submitted it. I got into my top-choice school with a partial athletic scholarship. I'm here now.
Sometimes I feel guilty. Like I took a shortcut. But then I think about the 20 hours a week I spend on the ice, the early mornings, the injuries, the sacrifices. I've earned my spot. The essay was just one piece of the puzzle. And honestly? If I'd spent those weeks stressing over essays instead of practicing, I might not have gotten the scholarship that's paying for my education. It was a trade-off, and I made the right choice for me.
Don't let anyone shame you for getting help. Your path is different. Your time is different. Your priorities are different. If you need help with your essay so you can focus on your sport, do it. Just make sure the final product still sounds like you. Because at the end of the day, your story is what matters. And you have a good one.
Anyone else out there navigating the student-athlete application nightmare? I'd love to hear your stories.