Love For the Game

I was once a very shy, anxious, and depressed teen, but so were a lot of others that had been my age. My disastrous relationship with food was also a setback which kept me at an unhealthy weight and BMI (Body Mass Index). Clinically, I was obese and likely morbidly. The thought of playing a sport in front of people was terrifying to me. Self-doubt would creep in with a three-course serving of anxiety to coax me out of even attempting it. This was what led to me quitting the football team before a big game, and my excuses were my grades or I was feeling sick. Neither statement was a lie, and the turmoil I was dealing with at home affected me mentally and physically.

A good friend of mine came to me and told me about the soccer program. Of course, my nerves gave me an internal battle of whether to try out or not. I explained my grievances to this friend, and he had assured me that it would be great for me. He expressed a passion for the sport which had me intrigued enough to throw caution to the wind and show up. I would love to say my first practice changed my life immediately, but that would not be the case as it would be more of a slow burn to breaking me out of my cocoon.

The coach, who was also the Physical Education teacher, held leadership of the program for several years before my arrival to the team. There was great comradery among the older players, which was something I appreciated from the outside looking in. I wanted to have that sense of belonging but didn't know if it was something I could handle. Even with this internal monologue, I realized that there were things I hadn't even considered. I was still very overweight, had no cleats, shin guards, and very little active clothing; all of this while living in a very low income household. It seemed like the odds and even my own negative thoughts were stacked against me, but I refused to allow myself to give up this time. I desperately wanted to keep improving in something that was good for me in the long run.

Before attaining the permission to participate in the upcoming season, every player had to have an updated and approved physical from their primary care physician. Unfortunately, doctors' offices always made me nervous from a young age, because it was a place I would normally go to figure out whats wrong whenever I was sick. I was nervous that something would be found during the screening that would prevent me from playing or maybe even something much worse. My grandfathers on both sides of my family died fairly young, with one perishing from a massive heart attack and the other lost a battle with leukemia. Even with all of these concerns, my physical went well and I was cleared to play for the upcoming season.

The next step was to purchase the cleats and shin guards. Cleats are used to make sure the player has traction when running on grassy terrain and cuts down on sliding around the pitch. The shin guards are meant to keep the shins from damage, which include anywhere from bad bruises to fractures. I managed to get this equipment from the program for that season, helping to "not break the bank" so to speak. After fishing out some old shorts and an dilapidated T-shirt, I was ready for my first soccer practice.

I had realized my conditioning was lacking terribly, as I trudged the two laps around the perimeter of the track. I was always the last one to finish, no matter how far in front of the pack I would start. But no mater how much I wanted to give up, I couldn't. I had to pull something from deep in my mind to the surface. The thing about soccer is, you are always moving, watching, and waiting. Sometimes sprints were necessary to get back into position -- finally, something I was good at. In this sport, and besides the goalie, players are only allowed to use their feet to pass the ball to each other, and the angle of their foot will determine the direction it goes. It was made clear to me that technique and timing were key to be successful here.

I would end up finishing my first soccer season while giving 100%. Realizing what I was capable of gave me enough confidence to try out for varsity football the next season. I suppose it was a feeling of wanting to finish what I had started two seasons prior. I would continue to play soccer the next several years until graduating, even earning a trophy for good sportsmanship. I carry these memories with me because they help me remember where I started and how far I have come. I have met so many people and made so many friends (some of which I still communicate with). This experience was the catalyst to who I am now. Giving my best effort to accomplish goals has never been easy, but now I am equipped with the knowledge and mental fortitude to defeat the doubts and insecurities as they rise. All because of my friend that had love for the game.