Sometimes I think we, as a nation, put way too much pressure on being the best. Somehow we decided that winning is the only thing that matters, and anything less is worthless. I want to change that perception, because honestly, the best lessons I have ever learned have come from losing. Winning is great, it makes you feel good, makes you feel like you did what you were supposed to do and makes you feel special, but what does it teach you?
Now, don't get me wrong, there have certainly been games that winning taught me many things about myself, like perseverance and never giving up, but how many professional athletes do you see talking about a great win defining their career? I think it's interesting that most great athletes will tell you that a defeat is what changed them and pushed them to new heights.
I'm not saying we should all go out and try to lose games, because that's not the point. What I'm saying is that yes, it's great to win games and tournaments and trophies and accolades, but it's okay to lose, too. It's okay to fail, it's okay to make mistakes. The world is not going to blow up because you missed a shot or let someone get past you on defense or gave up a goal.
I promise.
Really.
I swear.
Last night I was working out the keepers that were trying out for Stu's U13 age group. (Stu told me after the try-out that I was glowing. I laughed and told him that's because I was doing something I know I'm good at, working with keepers. He said, "I know you're good at it, that's why you're here!" It was awesome. I'm still kind of glowing from it :) ) First of all, I was amazed at the difference one year makes in the keepers for the U12 and the ones for U13. Pretty impressive. I was really happy with what I worked with, but I am sorry to say, that I made one cry.
Now, I don't necessarily think it was anything I was doing, but I could tell this talented little keeper (whom I picked out for an "A" team slot almost immediately) was struggling. So I pulled her aside and asked her what was going on.
"I'm playing so bad!" She said as tears started streaming down her cheeks.
I tried to tell her it was okay, that I thought she was doing fine, and that the world was not ending.
"But I can't handle anything and I'm having a bad day and today is not the day because it's try-outs."
I told her that everyone has bad days, and that's why they always have more than one day of try-outs. I said to take all that emotion and get in there and show me how good she was.
She got back in between the posts and did a much better job, but I think she was still upset. It made me a little sad to think that this girl was so upset about playing soccer. A game. Something we are supposed to do because we love it and enjoy it and want to be on the field, not something that makes us cry because we didn't live up to expectations.
But I've shed my fair share of tears over soccer. I've cried over wins and losses, cried over mistakes, cried over big successes, cried because I didn't feel I was good enough, cried because of coaches yelling at me, cried because of pain, cried because I just cared that much. Maybe that's what makes me a good soccer player, because I do have that passion, and I do care. Even now, after high school and college ball, playing in adult co-ed leagues that really mean nothing, I care.
There's a certain sense of pride in being a soccer player, a certain sense of belonging that's hard to find anywhere else. On the pitch, from whistle to whistle, you don't think about anything else. There's nothing but a ball and 22 players, the turf, the elements, sweat, tension, adrenaline. For 90 minutes, you forget about everything life has thrown at you, forget about work and your problems, and for 90 minutes, you just play. You run until you can't anymore. You fight and you scramble and you grab and shove and claw and pull and kick. You do everything you can to push that spherical object where you want it to go, regardless of the pain, the blood, the emotions. It's a true expression that the soccer pitch really is a battlefield, but it's one I happily step on almost every day because of the joy it gives me, no matter what the final score.
So when this 12-year-old started crying because she didn't feel good enough, it's safe to say I understood. But I wish she didn't feel that way. I wish there were no expectations for these players at 12-years-old. I wish that they could find joy in it, instead of stressing over being "good enough".
Because honestly, to me, they are good enough. Every single one of them is good enough. No, they may never be division 1 soccer players. But for them to be out on the field, doing something they love, and putting themselves on the line, that is good enough.
Life isn't about wins and losses. It's about finding what you love and doing it, regardless of what people have to say and whether you are good enough or not. I know I'll never be a World Cup soccer player, in fact, I know now that I'll never ride in the Olympics like I used to dream about, but just because I am not good enough to do that, does not decrease my value as a human being, and doesn't mean I should quit riding or playing soccer.
You are good enough. We are good enough. Everyone is good enough.
You just have to believe it.
After our co-ed game last night, where I played one of my better games on defense, we were talking about one of our upcoming tournaments where we don't have a keeper yet, and I said that I always could jump in net.
One of my teammates looked me dead in the eye and said:
"No, I'd rather have you in the defense."
I played it off, laughing, and he said again.
"Coree, you're an awesome defender. Really."
It was funny, because all my life I've been an awesome goalkeeper, and always questioned my field abilities. I've always questioned whether I was good enough.
It's amazing how a simple, unexpected compliment can make you confident in something you knew deep down, but might have been too afraid to believe.
I am good enough.
Maybe through coaching I can help these girls know they are good enough, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment