In 4th grade my friend and I beat the 5th grade tough guys that sat at the back of our bus in a 2-on-2 football game before school.
In 5th grade I beat the class bully in tug-of-war.
In high school I played in a local roller hockey league. We were in the semifinals and our goalie couldn't make it, so we had the coach's son suit up even though he wasn't normally a goalie. We really tightened up defensively and played a hell of a game that ended with me scoring the clinching goal in a shootout. Late in the ensuing championship game, our team up I think 1-0 or 2-1, there was a rebound or something that resulted in the puck landing in our slot, right in front of the league's most dominant player. He was much stronger than me but with all the adrenaline in that moment I was able to lift his stick and muscle him off the puck. Our forwards took it and scored to pretty much seal the championship for us.
On the Rutgers roller hockey team, we were pretty depleted skill-wise our senior year with all of our top players having recently graduated. We were probably about halfway through our season with a record of 1-6-1 and facing a very good Temple team. We were up 3-2 late in the game but they pulled their goalie and were really pouring it on, that clock couldn't tick down fast enough. With about 10 seconds left the puck ends up behind our net. I get to it first and pin it against the boards to kill the clock. Felt like I had their entire team pounding me into the boards, kicking my skate, doing whatever they could to get me off it. After what felt like 5 minutes, the buzzer finally sounded and we completed the upset. One of my wheels was broken in that scrum. I still have it and use it as a Christmas ornament.
A couple years after graduating I played semi-pro roller hockey. Right before the start of the season, one of my former roommates and coworker who had just started playing semi-pro ice hockey had just passed away. I was feeling pretty down from that and didn't do well in my first couple games and was starting to wonder if I even belonged at that level. In the locker room before the third game, I remember staring at the new sticker I put on my helmet with his jersey number and was thinking of the confidence and determination he always brought to the ice. On my first shift I won a battle for the puck along the boards and beat the goalie for my first semi-pro goal. Not to be overly sentimental, but my friend always said he liked getting assists more than goals, and although they announced my goal as unassisted I knew that play probably wouldn't have happened without his inspiration.
But none of that compares to my first season of organized sports when I was the pitcher on my tee-ball team and I struck someone out. The umpire let the kid swing until he hit the ball, but I know I had that strikeout.