It taught me…

Soccer, sports in general, take us on different paths. Sure we all begin the same way – some type of youth league, on the streets or grassy fields with our closest friends and family. Though, as we grow older, this so called path begins to split and form forks in different directions. Those of us who are fortunate enough to have the skills and athleticism move on to make a career out of soccer, while those of us who don’t have the genetics, didn’t have the opportunity to join camps, or just didn’t practice enough are the in stands watching those who did make it.

I’m not bitter about where the game has taken me. Of course I would’ve loved to play at the highest level, as would many others in love with the game, but soccer has given me a different route to be proud of. While the game has been used as a void for some who have lost friends and family, a way to keep close with friends, or a form of freedom from reality, soccer has taught me valuable life lessons.

I grew up playing soccer and watching soccer, basically soccer was my addiction. Those closest to me and those who I continue to meet always match soccer and I together, as if we’re inseparable. And, that’s okay, because I think we are. You see, I was never fantastic at soccer and I was never a great athlete either. On the contrary, growing up, I was the short, weak kid that everyone would move in for had I been playing a game of baseball or softball. But one day, soccer changed my life. It was the summer before junior year in high school (4 years ago), I realized my love for the game would mean nothing had I not devoted enough time to make myself the best that I could be. Soon enough, I began to change things in my life. I became a more disciplined person – with my health, the way I ate, exercised, my schoolwork, everything. I think once I was in ‘hard-work’ mode, it rubbed off on every other aspect of my life.

Junior year, I took soccer to another level. The past three years, I had been playing on my high school’s boys’ team – we didn’t have a girls’ team, as our school was small. So, long story short, I helped start the team, and in doing so, I learned leadership. I realized, as a leader now, I had to take hard-work to another level. The summer before my senior year, I woke up at 7 am practically every morning running and working on my soccer skills with my coach, while in the evenings I would play more soccer. This carried on throughout the year, as I began to lift weights and train like no other. Soccer taught me to have strength, because it took months to see results, but I finally realized I had improved.

A week before my senior season (in the spring), our coach had been fired. My coach had been like an older brother to me. He had been fired for various reasons, one of which included accusations of being too close to the team. For the most part, some players wanted him gone, so I believe that played a role in his dismissal. I had to continue, I couldn’t let this hold me back – and while I was frustrated with some of my teammates, I continued. Before the season started, I was guaranteed to be captain. I worked hard throughout the off-season to be on top, I kept my mouth shut when it was tough, I endured the pain when we did 4 minute wall-sits with a 40 pound weight everyday for 3 months (we being myself and two other teammates)… but my reward? Our coaches (one who was an assistant before), decided that it would be “fair” to have different captains every game, as if we’re in a youth league where the concept of captain is disregarded. I was obviously infuriated, pissed beyond belief. But, I kept going. Soccer taught me to have patience – to endure frustration and anger.

The summer before I began college, I had hoped to try out for the club soccer team at UofM. I knew it would probably be a long shot, as I came from a smaller school – not as competitive, not to mention there were no opportunities to play club soccer nearby. Regardless, I ran and played soccer throughout the summer. Finally, it was time for try-outs. We went to Windsor for a pre-try out tournament. Let’s just say, it did not go as I would have liked. I absolutely sucked – nervous and practically lost on the field, trying not to make mistakes. I could have gone home, giving up, but I realized that up until that point, giving up was never an option. I knew my chances of making the team were slim, because my skill-level was probably not as high as the other girls, not to mention I was a complete stranger; however, I wanted to make an impression with my hard-work. I gave 110% during our conditioning sessions, making sure I was one of the first to finish.

We had two-a-days and I came back to my dorm room sore as hell, but I quickly ignored the pain and continued. Once try-outs ACTUALLY began (conditioning was pre-try outs), I made sure I continued to play 110%. Until the third and final day, I thought I had played fairly well (definitely better than in Windsor), but on that day, I had sprained my ankle. I hurt it after a girl went in with a hard challenge (no hard feelings of course), I was caught off guard, and I guess my ankle had twisted. I knew I had severely injured it, but it was half-way through the last day and I couldn’t turn back. I continued playing, with pain, knowing full well my ankle was done and my performance was on the decline; I didn’t make the team. I eventually accepted it, moved on, and realized it was for the best. However, soccer taught me to be accepting and realistic.
I didn’t let a failed try-out deter me from working hard to maintain the best health or shape, because I figured one day, I’ll have my shot at the club team again, or something different, but just as competitive. So, I continued to run – running harder than I had ever before – hills, trails, stairs, everything. My friends always call me crazy; I call it determination. I continued playing soccer whenever I could, intramurals, indoor, or just for fun. Whenever an opportunity to play the game arose, I was there. Just like in high school, most associated me with soccer or soccer with me – however you want to look at it. Finally, this year, after searching for a way to contact the Palestinian National Team, I found a Facebook group with some of the players in it. The team is fairly young and most of the players competing are from Bethlehem, as it is difficult for others to meet up, etc. I contacted a player from the team, asked if I could perhaps train with them – she kindly welcomed me and said the team would gladly let me play. As a result, I found my “something different….”

I’d like to think the work I started 4-5 years ago led up to this. As if God had planned this for me – all the pain, the sacrifice, the dejection led to working even harder, so that one day I would represent my people. I continue now, with the journey I began years ago, training crazy and playing soccer at every given opportunity, so that next month, the day I begin playing with the national team, I will not be denied.

Soccer taught me character, determination, pride, but most importantly, I will never lose.

Rola