Soccer is an everyday language in my house. He referees it, has coached it, played it. I have been a team mom for it and both the kids have played it. My daughter was really good at it. She’s tiny and fast and that is a good component for the game I am told. When she didn’t want to play after she was 12 I was sad about it because I thought she could do it in school, but she just said she hated it. I just took it as a teenage phase she was going through. I resorted to the fact that both my kids would not be soccer super stars and I was happy that at least my son still loved it and was good at it.
I have a friend whose life also revolves around soccer most of the time. I don’t think a day goes by without her or someone in her family playing a soccer game. I went out to see her play last year and she looked like she was having the time of her life, she made it look so easy and all the women just seemed to be having a really good time. She tried to convince me for months to join her for one of her leagues and I always would tell her that eventually I would. That day finally came a few weeks ago when I received a text from her telling me it was close to home and not too expensive and that it would be good for me…I reluctantly agreed. It isn’t that I didn’t think that I could do it but I had not played sports since I was about 12 and that was softball…which I hated!
So two weeks ago I showed up on the first night in my bright purple shirt, shin guards and cleats. Thankfully my son had a really nice pair of cleats that he had only worn less than a handful of times that fit me perfectly. I was so nervous that first night. The only person I knew was my friend and all I knew to do was chase the ball. I mean yes, as I mentioned before, soccer was in my life since 1993 but all I really knew was to watch how easily they scored goals and cheer when they did. So once the game started I stood chatting with my friend trying to hide so nobody would say they needed a sub. When they did need a sub my friend went in and then I hid more because I knew the next sub to go in would be me. As my heart beat louder than a drum that time finally came. They pointed out where I should go and I ran in. Whenever that ball came to me I chased it like it was money, but I never came in contact with it and I felt like I was running all over the place. The girls on my team kept asking me “what position are you playing?” as I just shrugged and said “I don’t know, I’m new at this.” Luckily, my son went to the side I was playing on and kept telling me where to go and what to do or else I would have been totally clueless. On this first night some girl on the other team kicked the ball and crunched my index finger and thumb just right…I am still in pain from that…seriously.
Thankfully most of the girls, except for one I will refer to as Barbie (because she resembled Barbie and seemed like she was too good to be there) were very nice and encouraging and I felt like this could be fun and I was happy I went. The following Monday I was nervous again to be going because I thought I sucked the first time. I texted my friend and when she told me she wouldn’t be able to make it, I started panicking. How would I do this without her? The girls wouldn’t remember me or if they did they would remember I was the one who didn’t know what the heck I was doing out there. As I walked out onto the field the Goalie waved at me to signal where they were and she seemed happy I came back. Because it was Valentine’s Day (I suspect) some of the other girls didn’t make it which meant that there was only one sub which meant that I would play more….oh no, panic! I did the best I could and I thought I was doing well considering the other team was more dominant and the ball pretty much stayed on the side for them to score. Suddenly when the ball finally did come remotely close to me and Barbie, I ran away so I wouldn’t bunch up as I was instructed. Barbie didn’t think I was far enough away and kept screaming at me in a whiney voice… “Get OOOOpen!” as she shook her head…ugh, hated her!
As the night came to an end I was happy it was over, Barbie discouraged me and I was never the same.
Yesterday would have been my third game. Then as it always does, craziness happened in my life.
Amid a three day weekend of people in the house not getting along as usual, cleaning up my teenage daughter’s room that seemed like it was straight out of the TV show Hoarders and a plumbing problem that made me cry all day ALONG with my feelings of panic over soccer, I decided I couldn’t do it. First off, things in my life are hectic enough to add to it a feeling of sheer panic every Monday. Not to mention, if I wanted to have a Barbie in my life I would buy one at the store that doesn’t talk crap, hopefully she will learn not to be so rude. I texted the person in charge of the team and pleaded my case to which she was very understanding. I was scared to tell my friend, I thought she would hate me, but luckily she didn’t. Now I will appreciate all the soccer she plays because I know how hard she works. I told her that she makes it look easy and she always looks glamorous doing it, no wonder they call her Hollywood!
So last night after her game she posted a message on Face book that said something like “If you don’t want to get pushed, take a knitting class! No, she didn’t mean that for me, it was for someone on the team they played, but I was going to ask her…”where can I join that knitting class?” No…soccer is not for sissies and it wasn’t for me either.
