A girl on a toy horse (hobby horse) jumping over an obstacle.

Sports Stories Winners Lycée B2

Posted by Speakeasy News > Thursday 20 June 2024 > Pedagogy

We received thousands and thousands of fabulous entries to our sport-themed creative-writing contest. Here are our favourite lycée texts entered as B2. There are a couple with an equestrian theme, and others on athletics, figure skating, volleyball, cycling, badminton and Gaelic football. Plus one that is out of this world!

And the winners are, in no particular order:

  • Anaëlle, Lucy and Inès from Mme Longchamp-Craveur’s class, Lycée René Cassin, Montfort-sur-Meu.
  • Chloé from Mme Turban-Prono’s class, Lycée Saint Benoît, Angers.
  • Linah from Mrs Robilliard’s class, Lycée Henri Poincaré, Palaiseau.
  • Lisa and Chiarra from Mme Ventre’s class, Lycée Daudet, Tarascon.
  • Marie from Mme Orival’s class, Lycée Claude Gellée, Épinal.
  • Lucille, Jean and Julie from Mrs Raoux’s class, Lycée Lapérouse-Kérichen, Brest.
  • Lucas, from Mme Boussaguet’s class, Lycée Dhuoda, Nîmes.
  • Kylian from Mr Adiouani’s class, Lycée Le Corbusier, Poissy.
  • Thomas from Mme Ducatel-Daignan’s class, Lycée Saverne, l’Isle Jourdain.

Scroll down to discover their incredible texts!

Anaëlle, Lucy and Inès from Mme Longchamp-Craveur’s class, Lycée René Cassin, Montfort-sur-Meu.


Dear diary,

Today, I have discovered Hobby horse riding, thanks to Luke, who invited me to his competition. At first, I didn’t really want to go, I was there only for Luke, you know he’s very handsome … But then the competition started, and I fell in love! Not only with Luke, but also with the sport!

Let me explain, because it’s wonderful! Instead of riding real horses, and hurting them, we’re doing it on stick horses! It’s not expensive, we don’t need to feed them and have ranches to keep them. You know me, I’m all about animal freedom, especially for horses.

We jump over wooden obstacles, with our stick horses, just like real horses would.


Dear diary,

Today is both the best and the worst day of my life : I got married, toLuke, the love of my life, but, Vanilla, my stickhorse for the last 4 years just died ! Indeed she broke in two pieces during my hobby horse-themed wedding.


Dear diary,

Today I’m very disappointed, furious. I feel misunderstood, the Olympic committee refused our association, to which I’m the president, the addition of hobby horse riding to the Olympic Games!!

We’re not being taken seriously, we’re always criticised by people who have never even tried it! At least it’s a real sport, (even if not officially recognised as one), unlike horse-riding, since we’re actually the one running and jumping. It requires years of training, that’s why we won’t give up on our dream!

Chloé from Mme Turban-Prono’s class, Lycée Saint Benoît, Angers.

It has all come down to this…

The moment of truth - this is where champions are made.

I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life!

Today, Thomas Young will win the 200m event. I can feel it, I can hear the cheers by the stands, a mix of emotions and excitement, the roaring and the adrenaline when the pistol fires. Thomas is leading the race- his strides long and perfect! I know he’s going to win. But as I start to relax, his demeanor changes, one false step and my dream drifts away. Jamaica has won the race, with just a few milliseconds ahead of Thomas and I am left devastated. He’s my idol, I’ve been following his career since the age of 8.

As I head to the hallway, my head bowed down, tears streaming down slowly, I can feel someone bump into me. It is Thomas, his head held high:

“Sorry, kid!”

My admiration is too difficult to hide…

“Can I get an autograph?”

“Of course, hey, why are you crying?”

“I just, I-I was rooting for you, I really thought you were going to win.”

“Listen kid, failure is not the opposite of success, it is part of success. That's what my old man used to tell me -The loss of enthusiasm should never undermine the courage to continue. Never forget that!”

And with those words of wisdom, I walk back home with the biggest smile on my face, believing that anything is possible!

Linah from Mrs Robilliard’s class, Lycée Henri Poincaré, Palaiseau.

The eyes of the whole world converge on me, from every corner of the globe to the bustling streets of Paris. My dream, forged with patience and determination, finally ignites before my eyes as I stand on this icy expanse, ready to offer the spectacle of my life, ready to leave an indelible mark in memories.

My skates embrace my feet already sore from the relentless training that has brought me here. In the excitement of the moment, the presence of my partner at the other end of the rink almost fades from my consciousness. A final exchange of complicit glances, then the music envelops the air, marking the beginning of our performance.

Suddenly, the audience, the cameras, even the pain, evaporate from my mind. I let myself be carried away by the rhythm, beginning an endless series of pirouettes. And then, suddenly... the firm hands of my partner settle on my hips. It is the beginning of our first prescribed figure. In a moment of grace, I soar, carried by an unsuspected lightness, my hair floating in the wind as I whirl around my partner, merging in perfect harmony.

Everything unfolds perfectly, perhaps even a little too perfectly. That's when I notice that we are ahead of the music. My coach's words resonate in my head: 'Never let your mistakes show.' I then make a decision and launch into a figure prohibited in competition, the salto. I soar, turn in the air, and land with perfect precision. I did it. I succeeded.

The light bursts, enveloping the ice rink in a dazzling aura. Alongside my partner, I greet the audience amidst thunderous applause. Then, a voice emerges from the microphone, cold, implacable. "Disqualification for executing a non-regulation pirouette." A glacial silence replaces the euphoria, freezing my breath, shattering my heart. In this whirlwind of emotions, I must leave, abandoning my dreams on the ice.

I have failed.

 Lisa and Chiarra from Mme Ventre’s class, Lycée Daudet, Tarascon.

Gallop On the Waves

This is the story of a brother and a sister named Liam and Hannah. They were on an island vacation with their parents when they came across a poster for a surf pony tournament. When they saw the poster, Liam’s eyes lit up with wonder. Liam is a great horse-rider, so a surf pony tournament was something he has to do, something fun. The tournament was the next day, so they went back to their parents to tell them about their find and they waited for the day to come.

The next day, Liam went to sign up, as he wanted to discover this original sport. It consists of surfing on a pony which is on a surfboard. So, he chose a pony named “Little Thunder”.

Right from the start of the tournament, Liam did very well, he even made acrobatics on the pony. He kept his balance perfectly but he wasn’t the only one. Another boy named Brandon did very well and was determined to win the tournament. He tried to make Liam fall but each time Liam managed to regain his balance. Liam even made it to the final against Brandon. They faced each other on a five-meters wave. And after five minutes, Brandon screamed and jumped into the water because he thought he saw a shark when it was only a dolphin. Liam laughed a lot and after five minutes he finally won the tournament.

Out of the water, Liam joyfully raised his cup and was greeted by everyone, including his parents and his sister Hannah.

 Marie from Mme Orival’s class, Lycée Claude Gellée, Épinal.

I'm there. This is my last chance. I can't falter, not at the end. One point and I score. One point, a tiny point, just one, and victory is mine. It's as if I already have the trophy in my hands. I also see the crowd cheering for me, my mother telling me she's proud of me, and I see him too. I see him looking at me with admiration, and maybe even he'll smile at me! It's not the time to think about that, I need to focus. My gaze accidentally lands on him, with whom I inadvertently made eye contact. I already knew it was over for me. I knew the effect he had on me. Like an arrow hitting the target, his gaze pierced to me. I feel my body becoming weak, my hands becoming sweaty. I'm losing control. My opponent serves. My racket whips the air, and its sound resonates in the hall as the shuttlecock bounces behind me. It's over. I've lost everything. I struggle to contain my shame, so I flee. I lock myself in the bathroom, waiting for everyone to leave. I couldn't face my mother who was going to tell me, “It's OK, my daughter, we're very proud of you, your father and I.” My father? The same father I haven't seen in six months? He, he's not proud at all. He'll tell me again that I'll never amount to anything and that my whole life is a disaster. And I was going to forget… him. What did he think when he saw me lose? What does he think of me? Will I see him again? Will he forget me? I won't forget him. That gaze that made me falter, I'll never forget it to. An hour later, here I am back in the locker room to take a shower. As I grab my sweat-soaked towel, a piece of paper drops. It was written “good game”. And on the back, there was a phone number…

Lucille, Jean and Julie from Mrs Raoux’s class, Lycée Lapérouse-Kérichen, Brest.

Toilets, Turmoil, and Tiny Planets

Julia was driving next to her husband, John. He was gazing out the window, a wide grin stretching from ear to ear : their well-deserved holiday was coming. Luke, their son, was buried in his comic book. Luke had been quiet in the back seat the whole ride, save for the occasional grumble.

“Mum,” the boy whined. “I really need to pee!”

“Again? Fine, let's stop at this planet…” Julia sighed.

As the family's spacecraft neared the ground, five colossal rings dominated their view. Their attention drawn, they glided down to a nearby roof, hoping to stay hidden from the crowd below.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Luke's father noticed a high, ominous flame.

“Careful, Luke!” John shouted. “Look behind you! Do people not see the danger? The building could take fire any minute!”

The frightened family quickly took back off, only to come across another disturbing scene. Two women in curious white uniforms were grappling intensely. One of them had just pushed the other, and was trying to pin her down, despite her protests. They were surrounded by a roaring crowd, the cacophony of their cheers vibrating through the air.

“People can't find that fun to watch, can they?” Julia commented with a frown.

As the family was continuing their frantic search, they were, once again, interrupted by a rather strange performance. This time, the participants were standing on a reddish, Mars-like soil. They kept sending a tiny planet back and forth, ridiculous grunts escaping their lips with each swing. The people watching were all turning their heads together in one swift motion—Luke, wide-eyed, was convinced they were possessed. Not long after, the boy finally stumbled upon toilets. As soon as he was done, his mother hurriedly urged him into the craft to flee.

“This planet is so quirky and odd,” John laughed. “I wouldn't want to forget it! I wonder what it's called...”

“Look, dad, it might be written here!” Luke guessed, pointing at a sign. “Ever heard of the ‘Paris 2024 Olympic Games’?”

Lucas, from Mme Boussaguet’s class, Lycée Dhuoda, Nîmes.

I am with my team, the six of us, with six of our friends on the other side of the net. The serve comes right over me: a float serve! The volley ball just bounce on my arms and goes up to red sky… WAIT, a red sky? How in the name of all the holy is this possible? We hear an horrible sound, a soud between an human howl and the scream of a bat in the middle of the night. This sound, it is the sound of the fat demon: Diabestesia. This demon is all of the fat we can find in the world, concentrated into a single creature. It kinda looks good, a big yellow marshmallow… really big marshmallow… WAIT, is he going to be THIS big? But whatever its heigh is, whatever its strengh is, we can defeat him. And everyone knows the way to defeat him: we all have to do sports! I pick up the ball as fast as I can, throw it to my friend who understanded the plan. In a common nod, everyone knows what to do. My friend serves again, and let’s play! Receptions, Sets, smash, blocks, everyone plays as much as they can. Little by little, this demon gets away. The match ball! I receive, my friend sets to me: a beautiful ball in the sky: I jump, I smash, and we win! We won, together ! To stop Diabestesia, nothing is better than playing sport with your friends!

Kylian from Mr Adiouani’s class, Lycée Le Corbusier, Poissy

Beneath the towering golden dome of Les Invalides, I joined my fellow cyclists, surrounded by the history of France's military. The morning sun warmed our hearts as we waited for the signal to start, and I was filled with excitement and determination.

As we raced along, the Palais Bourbon flashed by on our left, home of the National Assembly. The fluttering flags seemed to encourage us, synchronizing with the rhythm of our pedals and the cheers of the crowd.

The majestic Boulevard Saint-Germain appeared, its lively cafes and shops creating a colorful view. The smooth pavement contrasts with the historic cobblestones, each turn revealed more of Paris's sophisticated art and architecture.

Notre-Dame Cathedral stood proudly in the distance from Pont de Sully, a majestic sight that filled me with awe. Even though it's not on our route, Paris' history whispered through the wind as we sped by.

Leaving the city behind, we entered the green paradise of Bois de Vincennes. The quiet Lac Daumesnil mirrored the sky above, offering us a peaceful respite as we pushed forward through the luxuriant trees.

Emerging from the woods, Boulevard Henri IV stretched ahead, with spectators' cheers pushing us towards the finish line. The grand buildings and lined trees were becoming blurry as adrenaline circulates through my veins.

Finally, the grand finale - Pont Alexandre III dominating the Seine. Cheers are intensifying as I pedaled across the finish line, surrounded by the beauty of Paris. The glittering river below symbolizing the city's timeless elegance.

Thomas from Mme Ducatel-Daignan’s class, Lycée Saverne, l’Isle Jourdain

 The Legend of Gaelic Football

There is a very ancient legend in the lands of Northern Europe which tells that one day, a few decades ago, Cernunnos, half human, half deer had a groundbreaking idea…

Through the branches, hidden in his forest for thousands of years, Cernunnos started to be interested in sport. Indeed, a huge sports complex ha d recently been built and the half human, half deer couldn’t stop watching all the competitions of rugby, soccer and also handball from his woods, he was fascinated. Sport became part and parcel of his life, but Cernunnos felt as if something was missing…

He felt that he could enjoy watching sport better if all of those sports were combined into one! As Cernunnos has powerful magic, he used all of his abilities of telepathy to manipulate the brain and the thoughts of the humans in order to make them create a new sport, blending soccer, rugby and handball. A few months later, Cernunnos saw a new sport team he had never seen before, entering the complex. This was the birth of a new sport, Cernunnos’s sport. But something was still missing in order to enjoy watching this sport even more … He had to name it! After a long research, Cernunnos saw something written on the entrance gate of the complex: “Gaelic sports complex”. The word “Gaelic” had amazed him so much that he chose to name his creation: Gaelic Football.