Personal Narrative: My Love Of Soccer

Both of my sisters have been swept up in the recent bouldering craze. My younger sister went so far as to join a team so that she could so that she could climb in a competitive atmosphere. My own interest, however, is not piqued by the sport. Their love for the sport is completely contrary to my own disinterest. I just can’t seem to fathom how they find it so entertaining. It stands to reason, therefore, that there is little to no reason for me to actively participate in, or attend their “comps.” And so, I don’t. In turn, due to their lack of attraction to my chosen sport, soccer, their attendance at my games is severely lacking.
For this reason, we are forced to find other common ground upon which to bond. While we may not participate in
these activities with quite the same fervor, they have still instilled in me a strong sense of familial connection. This past week, I went to see the new Guardians of the Galaxy movie with my family. It’s dramatic cinematography and blockbuster production level provided a theatrical backdrop to a familiar setting. It is in these moments that an important connection is formed and my own character is fleshed out through this. My father, of course, was critical as ever, having completely forgotten the first movie. His various complaints ranged from misunderstanding completely the narrative of the story to the variance in pitch throughout the movie. On the other hand, my mother appeared rather indifferent to the movie, claiming it was “good, but not great,” the true face of indifference. Both my sisters, just as I appeared, were sheltered in voicing their opinions on the movie, as we all seemed a bit annoyed at our parents incessant questioning. “Was this it?” “Were they finally done?” we kept asking ourselves, but these questions betrayed a sense of superiority in our knowledge to be lorded over them as such.
This same story was repeated many times over throughout my time with my family.
The playful jests and inevitable clashes leaving me searching for competition as these times became less and less frequent. It was for this reason that soccer took such a firm grip on me. It provided an outlet for the built-up need for struggle that had been fostered in my younger years. Although I had been in and around the game for virtually all my life, I only truly started getting into it as I was unable to find the healthy competition at home. In fact, this has led me to an even greater interest in the game than almost anything I had done before. The sport has helped me to accept failure both on and off the field as a perfectly normal occurrence in anything. While it is of course natural to feel a sense of disappointment with failure, the beautiful game has taught me to move on and look forward, not back. This important lesson took a long time in learning too, as I often refused to accept the failures already long gone. This too often manifested in undesirable actions and more regrets, but with the discovery of soccer and its intricacies, I am in a far better place than I was then. Soccer has had a profound impact on all aspects of my life, from my obsession with sports analysis to my dedication to whatever cause. Sport has taught me far too many valuable lessons to disregard in any discussion of the creation of my
character.