November 2022

Part 1: The Underdog

I still remember the feeling I had when I went to my first competitive club soccer tryout. To say I was intimidated, scared, and wanted to turn and run the other way is an understatement. I was 12 years old and in the world of club soccer, that’s considered old to tryout for my first team. All the other kids that were already on the team had the swag, the warm up jackets, and just looked so cool. I desperately wanted to be one of them. The good news is I wasn’t the worst player at tryouts... but I didn’t think I had any business making the team. My parents, however, encouraged me to call the coach after not hearing from him whether or not I had made the cut. 

Here I am, 12 years old, TERRIFIED and calling up the coach that I hadn't heard from to check my status. I swear to you he had no idea who I was, but since I had the guts to call and ask he told me to show up to the first practice. So again, not feeling like I belonged at all, I showed up. Where I lacked talent I made up for in effort and physicality. I may not have been skilled enough, but I decided I wasn’t going to be outworked. So 2 practices turned into roughly 3 months without any idea if I made the team or not. I just kept turning up for practice and working hard. 

I made that team roughly 26 years ago. For the longest time, no matter where I was, if there was a soccer ball on the field, I felt comfortable. I knew I could play and at the very least I wasn’t going to be the worst player out there.

Team Picture - 4 years after I “made the team”

All of that changed recently. I play in a Monday night adult league (I only play if the games are after the kids' bedtime of course :)) and for the first time in 26 years I felt out of place on the soccer field. Genuinely, I felt like I was hurting the team versus helping. I had a really bad game and I felt out of sorts. Typically, given the skill level of my teammates I have always found a way to play a role that would contribute something. This was a new, awful feeling that I will tell you I didn’t like. Yes, we’re playing guys as young as 20… and they should be better than me at this point BUT I’m competitive and this is my first experience in a long time where I felt like this.

I left the field that day a little different. I went home, I was in a funk. I felt like I was physically on the decline for the first time ever. I started googling athletic prime and it turns out that 25-35 is a plateau and from that point on it’s a progressive decline. Based on my age I was in a decline… maybe more mentally than physically. I thought about quitting and just saying hey, I’ve got a lot going on. It was a good run. Time to hang up my boots.

Ultimately the competitor in me wasn’t ready to give it up...

Stay tuned for Part II in my December newsletter!