Well folks, soccer is over. More likely than not, for good. My body is so physically done it's ridiculous but if I could i would kick that stupid ball forever.
This last week has been remarkably difficult. I mean I knew I was obsessed but COME ON. When the final whistle blew I had this indescribable feeling of complete and utter sadness and even shock. It wasn't like they won at the last second or anything I think I was just shocked that it all was truly over.
That was my last game. That was my last time getting my ankles taped to attach them to my body, That was my last time getting a needle shot into my butt just so I could hopefully not suck that much, that was the last time I'd ever put my #18 Toledo jersey on. It hurt to take it off. I almost didn't shower before a 6 hour bus ride home because I didn't want to take it off. Eventually someone shoved me into the shower and you're welcome teammates.
It was such a blur yet there was an overwhelming sense of terrifying clarity that came along with "the end." It was time for me to do something else. It was time for me to love something else, try something else, concentrate on something other than soccer.
Everything I have done in my life was working towards soccer. Get good grades so I could miss school and play in a tournament, go to olympic development camps to be seen, look dumb practicing by myself everyday. Everything in my life has also been a result of what I did soccerwise. Almost all of my friends I have come to know through soccer. I know people all over the country (and some internationals... hey Colombians) because of soccer. I wouldn't have been able to afford school had it not been for soccer.
Soccer was so give and take, it was my longest relationship, and this has been an ugly breakup. This past week I have drank too many adult beverages, eaten too much chocolate, Taco Bell, icecream, cried to sad songs, written in my diary, written this blog post, and done everything girls typically do when they get broken up with. (atleast according to the movies)
There's a freaking DVD called "For Love of the Game" next to my bed for goodness sake!
Describe yourself in one word:
Pathetic.
Whenever I sit and reflect I realize that soccer holds most of my happiest memories. To think that I can't make memories through it anymore is scary but then I think of what's next. It's unknown so that's a little frightening but it's also completely up to me. I'm not controlled by this sport that had me under a strict training/living regimen for the past 17 years of my life. Don't worry I'm not gonna go completely nuts because let's be honest, I'm pretty much already there.
With the waves of sadness I also get waves of hope. This life is such a gift and transitioning to a new phase has always been a difficult thing for me but I now have the friends, the lessons soccer taught me, and the mentality to do this. Whatever "this" is. I can do whatever I set my mind to and when I'm ready I'm confident I'll do hella cool things.
For now though, I kinda just want a bowl of icecream.
I can't thank my family, friends, teammates, coaches, trainers, or God enough for putting up with me throughout all of this journey. This is only the beginning.
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| first season |
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| last season |
