Why Soccer Is Important To Me
Sometimes I like to think that I came out of the womb kicking a soccer ball. Here I am seventeen years later, and I can not remember a time I was not on a soccer team. Over the years, soccer has become a huge part of my life. I have played on two club teams, multiple YMCA teams, and my high school’s varsity soccer team. I even ventured out enough to coach a YMCA team last year. Having this sport in my life has shaped me into the person I am today, but my passion for this sport was not always this solid.
In 2010, my best friend Haley and I joined the same YMCA team for the first time. I can expressly remember our first day of practice. My mom had just bought me a brand new purple soccer ball. When we walked on the field, we were immediately
embraced by nine overly energetic kids that were also stuck in the unicorn phase of their childhood. Thinking back now, our first practice was a lot more fun than it should have been. We were often found playing games instead of soccer. After the first couple of days, however we became more serious. Our coach, Joe Lakshmanan, recognised out potential and spent two years developing us into a champion team.
With coach Joe’s help, went from a random group of kids, to a solid team. By 2012, we were undefeated. What I learned years later is that coach Joe was getting professional tips from his eldest daughter, who played college soccer, on how to develop us into better players. He spent countless time watching coaching videos after work because he genuinely cared for us. I loved playing on that team. We grew together, creating a bond that not many teams have at that age.
When I was in seventh grade, my coach killed himself. My parents never told me much about what happened. I remember sitting on the couch when my parents told me the news. I was shocked. At twelve years old, I had never had someone that close to me die. Thinking back, I do not think I cried in the beginning. By the time the funeral hit, I was devastated, but in the back of my grief, I could not fathom how his youngest daughter was feeling. We had been on the same team for so long, I could not tell who she was. Later, I would learn that she was the one to discover her dad’s lifeless body.
After this tragedy, it took me a while to return to soccer. I would never return to YMCA soccer, but my coach’s death helped me realize some important things. Life is entirely too short. Coach Joe’s daughter graduates this year, and I am sure she would give anything for him to see her walk across the stage. I vowed from then on not to let petty disputes stop me from moving on. At the end of the day, tomorrow is not guaranteed, and I want to live every day I have to it’s fullest.
Five years later, I am playing my fourth year on the varsity soccer team at my high school. I wish I could go back and thank Coach Joe for all of the things he did for me as a player, and a person. He was a big part of my life, and I want to continue on to become the strong, successful person he knew I could be.
In 2010, my best friend Haley and I joined the same YMCA team for the first time. I can expressly remember our first day of practice. My mom had just bought me a brand new purple soccer ball. When we walked on the field, we were immediately
embraced by nine overly energetic kids that were also stuck in the unicorn phase of their childhood. Thinking back now, our first practice was a lot more fun than it should have been. We were often found playing games instead of soccer. After the first couple of days, however we became more serious. Our coach, Joe Lakshmanan, recognised out potential and spent two years developing us into a champion team.
With coach Joe’s help, went from a random group of kids, to a solid team. By 2012, we were undefeated. What I learned years later is that coach Joe was getting professional tips from his eldest daughter, who played college soccer, on how to develop us into better players. He spent countless time watching coaching videos after work because he genuinely cared for us. I loved playing on that team. We grew together, creating a bond that not many teams have at that age.
When I was in seventh grade, my coach killed himself. My parents never told me much about what happened. I remember sitting on the couch when my parents told me the news. I was shocked. At twelve years old, I had never had someone that close to me die. Thinking back, I do not think I cried in the beginning. By the time the funeral hit, I was devastated, but in the back of my grief, I could not fathom how his youngest daughter was feeling. We had been on the same team for so long, I could not tell who she was. Later, I would learn that she was the one to discover her dad’s lifeless body.
After this tragedy, it took me a while to return to soccer. I would never return to YMCA soccer, but my coach’s death helped me realize some important things. Life is entirely too short. Coach Joe’s daughter graduates this year, and I am sure she would give anything for him to see her walk across the stage. I vowed from then on not to let petty disputes stop me from moving on. At the end of the day, tomorrow is not guaranteed, and I want to live every day I have to it’s fullest.
Five years later, I am playing my fourth year on the varsity soccer team at my high school. I wish I could go back and thank Coach Joe for all of the things he did for me as a player, and a person. He was a big part of my life, and I want to continue on to become the strong, successful person he knew I could be.