I haven't written in a few weeks because I have been in the midst of something I've been referring to as TSH ... aka, Travel Soccer Hell. It's safe to say that the last few weeks have ranked among the most stressful of my entire life. Between feeling like I had been thrown into an ocean without knowing how to swim, feeling totally insecure and completely lacking in self-confidence, and tearing my hair out at least three times, I still managed to somehow, by the grace of God and everything that's holy, keep the girls on last year's team together. I still don't know how I did it, but I did, and despite everything that happened and the numerous parents I probably pissed off, I made it happen.
However, with that joy, came the frustration and disappointment in having to make the phone calls to the girls who didn't make it. The parents were much more understanding than I thought they would be, but I still felt sick every time a new number came up on my phone, or I sat down to make a call.
It was so, so hard.
The weekend all of this was happening, I was on assignment for work. Luckily, it required hiking through the woods for hours, and I spent a lot of that quiet time tearing myself into pieces. Was I doing the right thing? Did I have the right intentions? Was I trying too hard to make it work when it never would?
People have this perception that I am a strong, self-confident, happy person, and for the most part, I am. But sometimes, I am so doubtful of myself that I feel like I'm drowning. Sometimes, I make myself feel so guilty over things that I am clearly innocent, and most of the time, I'm willing to shoulder the blame even when it isn't mine to carry. That weekend in the woods, in the peace that came from being surrounded by nothing but trees, earth and sky, I literally broke myself down from the inside out and built myself back together again. It didn't feel good, it sucked, but I had to do it. I had to make sure that I was in the right frame of mind when those phone calls started coming.
When the dust finally settled, I had a roster of 13 incredibly talented soccer players. I couldn't be happier with the team I built, and I'm so excited to get started. We had a parents meeting last night, and I really think I made an impact with my training philosophy and plan of action. I know I will make mistakes and I know that some of my ideas may not work, but I also know I'm on the right track.
Watching the USA win their World Cup group yesterday made me incredibly hopeful that the United States will one day become a powerhouse soccer nation. The spirit and determination is there, and the fan support is growing every day. If I can be a small part of creating the next generation of soccer fanatics, then I've made a great contribution to the sport that has given me so much joy in my life already.
It's funny how life turns around so quickly. A year ago, I was riding every day and planning horse shows. Today, I haven't ridden in months because all my free time has been taken up by soccer. The funny thing is, for the first time, I'm okay with that. I'm in love with soccer again, and it makes me ridiculously happy every time I step on the field, whether I am playing or coaching.
During one of the worst weeks of TSH, I had one of my last spring season co-ed games. It was a typical muggy early-summer day, and as we began the game, the skies suddenly opened. The rain began falling so hard and heavy that none of us could see. In the roar and pounding water, I couldn't help the swell of joy that burst upward in my chest. It seemed like with that torrential downpour, with the incredibly outpouring from the heavens, I found some sort of peace within myself at last. I lifted my arms, looked to the sky and laughed, because I realized that all of this mess was temporary, and that the most beautiful days come after the worst of storms.
I've always loved playing soccer in the rain, and that day, the rain helped me remember why.
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