Reflections

Sometimes it's pretty damn hard to look in the mirror. It takes a lot of courage to face yourself, to look your flaws, fears, and insecurities straight in the face. There's no masks when you look in the mirror, nothing to cover up what you don't want the world to see. It's hard to maintain your daily facade when there's no one but yourself making the judgment. We are our own harshest critics, are we not?

It took me a long time to love the girl in the mirror. To embrace my own flaws, and learn where my weaknesses lie, and that I am stronger than I think I am. It took other people holding the mirror in my face, so I couldn't deny myself any longer. It took many, many failures, losses, and mistakes, to become the girl in the mirror whom I love.

One of the things I tried to teach these girls, was to look in the mirror at the end of every day. I told them:

"If you can look in the mirror and tell yourself, not your teammates or your coach, but yourself, that you did everything you could, and gave everything you had, then you will never regret a soccer game. And if you apply it to your life, you will never regret a single moment of that, either."

I don't know if it made sense to any of them, but after losing their state play-off game, ending their season, I think they might have finally understood.

Sometimes, in soccer, the final score doesn't indicate the actual flow of the game. The girls this season have had plenty of high-goal games against lesser teams, but in some of them, they played like garbage. The girls also had a few games that ended in ties, and clearly they were the better team that day. Soccer is a funny game, in that way. Sometimes, you just can't put the ball in the net.

Tuesday's game went like that. We were playing a better opponent, but no one told those girls that. No one told them they were supposed to lose, and even when the goals fell in the other team's favor, no one told them it was time to quit. Those girls played the last 25 minutes of their last game of the season like they were possessed. The other team, despite winning, walked off the field with their heads down, but our team? We celebrated a personal victory.

The loss was bittersweet for the three seniors who wouldn't get another shot at the state title, but the rest of the team was already looking forward to next season. I'm looking forward to next season.

In our last huddle, Stu, in a traditions started at the beginning of the season, asked our two captains the question.

"Are you satisfied?"

Normally, the answer would be no. We weren't satisfied until we had the state title in our hands. But, through her tears, our captain held her head up and proudly said:

"Yes."

Our other captain later told her teammates, "I've never had more fun playing soccer than this season."

As a coach, those are the moments you want to see. The wins don't matter, the scoreboard doesn't matter, the state titles and the championships don't matter. It's learning how to find joy in what you do, and discovering who you are and what your made of in a group of people who are fighting for the same thing, will pick you up if you're falling, and will stand beside you to celebrate.

You learn together, you sweat together, you bleed together, and nothing but sports can teach you the value of teamwork, dedication and hard work.

This season might be over, but these memories and this experience, and these lessons will stay with them for the rest of their lives.

So at the end of it all, what did I learn? It would take me days to list everything. All of the technicalities and nuances and little things that a coach must do to create a cohesive unit are starting to make so much sense. For me, a foundation has been laid, and I am looking forward to continuing to build it.

But there is one, very important thing I learned this season, something, I think, takes some coaches years to understand.

I learned that you can have the best coaches, and be the fittest player on the field, and have the best foot skills and the most talent, but if you don't want to win, if you don't desire it and dream about it and have the heart to keep fighting even when things aren't going your way, everything else doesn't matter at all.

I learned that if a player doesn't have heart, there is absolutely nothing you can do, as a coach, to make them play.

But believe me, these 22 girls I just coached? They have heart. They proved that on Tuesday. I hope that they can look in the mirror and be proud of what they accomplished.

It was an absolute joy and privilege to coach them these past few months, and I hope that I will be honored with the chance to do it again.

When I look in the mirror now, I see a strong, independent woman who dreams big and jumps in with both feet. It just so happens that there's a soccer ball right beside me.