I Kick Balls!

This frosty December night was especially frigid. The ice crystals forming on the window looked the way I felt as I shivered myself to sleep on this lonely school night. I had asked my dad about the temperature and he fiddled with the old creaky radiator in my bedroom for a few minutes. It didn’t change the fact that they couldn’t afford more oil. So I curled up like a baby underneath my blanket and tried to let sleep overtake the wintery chill.

“Have you ever thought about boarding school?” my mom asked the next day. “Boarding school?” I skeptically repeated. I knew there was no way my family could afford it. “Yes,” she continued, “do you think you would want to go?” Of course I want to go, at least they have heat, I thought in my head, but I had no idea how it would be possible.

My father worked in a leather factory and my mother was a crossing guard, lunch lady, and nursery school aid. As much as they were willing to sacrifice for me, my prospects of an elite prep boarding school were pretty slim.

Fortunately, I was born with a gift that I loved and nurtured: soccer. I practiced all the time in my back yard and it was my go to when I was sad or angry at the world. Juggling, dribbling, kicking a ball against a wall – it was just relaxing to me.

All that practice paid off.

After interviewing at the school, they explained that I could attend free of charge. I had good grades, and they had scouted me on the soccer field. It was a dream come true. The beautiful buildings and architecture, the polite and accommodating faculty, the luxurious lunch room with more choices for food than I could imagine – I felt like Annie walking into Daddy Warbucks house or Charlie in the Chocolate factory for the first time.

My first travels on the soccer team took me to places like San Diego CA, Orlando FL, and all around the Northeast USA. Through these various soccer tournaments, I saw many things for the first time like palm trees, beautiful southern vegetation, and the amazing San Diego zoo.

It didn’t stop stateside, though. I became a transatlantic traveler when my high school soccer team ventured to Holland. In between competitive matches against teams from the Netherlands, I found out about pointy wooden shoes and tasted exquisite cheese like none I had ever had before. My adventures were also helped by the fact that I accidentally found myself in the red light district, not knowing what it was at that point in my life. That was definitely an eye-opener.

Another frosty December night came when I was back in my warm room at boarding school. Looking out the icy window onto the peaceful snow covered grass, I thought about the adventures soccer had afforded me so far in my life. Loneliness seemed near since no one in my family was around to hear about my stories. The heated stuffy air felt smothering as I tried to drift off to sleep, so I opened a window and let the frigid wintery air wash over me. Sleep came more quickly then; it felt like home again.

A full ride soccer scholarship brought me out to the corn fields of Illinois for 4 years of college. I had many adventures there including the delectable pie at Baker’s Square, biking along rivers and corn fields, and rollerblading along Lake Michigan.

In my first year of college, our soccer team took to the skies and headed to Australia. We got to play some great soccer with Australian teams. What do I remember most about this distant land? They have the most beautiful sunrises and sunsets. The whole sky lights up in a beautiful orange glow and the colorful clouds that you can see for miles are indescribable.

A few years later, we hit the skies again on our way to Zimbabwe. I got to see incredible animals on an African safari and take in the breath taking Victoria Falls – the highest waterfall in the world. The river below these falls, the Zambezi River, housed another adventure all its own – whitewater rafting. My raft flipped and I tried to find an air pocket underneath like the guide had taught us. Except for one thing, there was no air pocket. Running out of air, I finally swam down and out from under the raft and made it to the surface of the rushing rocky water. My heart felt glad as I floated down the river on my back, gasping for air.

Leaving Zambia and Zimbabwe, we had a three-hour layover in London. Luckily, as a college soccer team, we were in shape enough to literally run around the streets of London and take in all the sights – the Big Ben, Buckingham Palace, and the London Eye to name a few.

Another year ended and a new season began again. Two-a-days made us all so soar we could barely walk a flight of stairs, but the comradery and accomplishment I felt couldn’t be beat. Day in and day out on that soccer field trying to be the best I could be as I earned my scholarship at the school. Beating defenders, scoring goals, and leading our team to countless victories.

And then the thing I loved turned into a job. I realized I had no choice in the matter. I loved it, yes, but my other option was not going to college. As the soccer season of my junior year neared its end, I found myself dreading every step I took on the field. I had no energy and no motivation to keep going. I just wanted to be done.

Right before playoffs that year, in a practice session dribbling all by myself with the ball, I tried to do a spin and somehow ended up dislocating my knee. I was out for the playoffs and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Hobbling around on crutches, I realized how much I just wanted to run and play and be a part of the team again. I couldn’t wait until I was healed and could get back on the field.

Thankfully, I still had my senior year ahead of me. It was a great year and a great close to my soccer story. I held the records for number of goals and assists at my school, made All-American, was entered into the Hall of Fame, and my jersey was retired. It was incredible.

So what’s the point of this story about a poor soccer girl traveling the world? As Thomas Jefferson put it, “I’m a greater believer in luck, and I find the harder I work the more I have of it.”