The Shootout

I don't think I ever got this stressed out playing. Well, maybe I did, but it's so different when you're on the sidelines. You can yell and coach and scream all day long, but in the end, it's the players on the field who have to make the decision to win.

And oh boy, did they decide to win today.

The other team scored first, but our girls weren't about to let the score stay lopsided. Not two minutes later, our captain but a beautifully placed, left-footed shot into the back of the net.

Then, nothing. Four 5-minute scoreless overtime periods led us to a PK shootout.

Now, when I was a player, I lived for these things. I was good at them. But my keeper? She's never been in one. I knew she was capable of making at least one save, but I wasn't sure if she had the confidence in herself to do it.

The first two shooters scored, then the next four missed. The next two scored, and it was down to one shot from each team.

I called it from the sidelines. We would score, and our keeper would make a save.

I should have bet my life savings, because I'd have been a millionaire.

After 120 minutes of intense, gut-wrenching, shirt pulling, elbow flinging, bloody, sweaty soccer, we had won. I jumped off the bench, spiked my sunglasses into the ground, and gave Stu a huge hug.

"That's my goalkeeper!" I shouted in jubilation.

What a feeling. What a rush. I couldn't even explain the intense feeling of pride and happiness that came over me. I knew, without a doubt, that those girls would remember that game for the rest of their lives.

I certainly can remember the shootouts. I remember my very first shootout in eighth grade. We lost, but I won my first tournament trophy that day. Second place. I remember the shootout against Hoquiam during high school. I believe it was our school's first varsity win. The joy was there. I remember the joy.

I remember the shootout at the tournament in Bend, Ore. on my old club team, Mystique. I remember making the saves, winning the gold.

I remember a high school shootout against Ridgefield, our big rivals. We lost that one, too, but it felt like a win. It felt just as sweet and good as a victory. For us, that little varsity team from La Center High, it was.

I remember the shootout in Australia, where I didn't play in net or shoot. But I was there, and it counted.

I remember last summer, where I took a PK in a shootout for the first time in my life, and scored.

Regardless of what these girls go on to do with their lives, they will remember today. Not because they won, but because for the first time, they understood what 'team' truly means. It's about everyone. From the starters to the subs, to the girls who only get a few minutes in some games.

Right before the shootout started, some of those "bench warmers" gave the keeper a big hug of encouragement.

"I didn't ask you to do that," said Stu to those girls after the game was won. "But this victory is yours just as much as it is hers."

The may not remember the final tally, or who played and who didn't, but I guarantee they'll remember the joy. I know I still do.