What Soccer Means To Me by Meaghan Ford
I’ve been playing soccer ever since I was five with Velcro sneakers that lit up when I ran flowered shorts
and lacy socks under my shin guards. I absolutely loved playing. The years went by and I landed a
starting varsity spot my freshman year in high school. When it came time for my upcoming senior year, I
hoped I would be selected to be captain. However, when the names were announced and I wasn’t one
of them, I was crushed. That summer, something had changed. My heart wasn’t in it. At our opening
game, I was on the field waiting for the starting whistle to blow. By complete chance I looked over to the
stands and saw a little girl with her hands pressed to the metal fence. She was wearing an oversized
soccer jersey, looking right at me. She reminded me so much of myself when I was her age. I looked
down at my hundred-dollar cleats, my official matching uniform, and my shin guards wrapped carefully
underneath my socks. I looked over at the girl again and I smiled. I stopped worrying about who would
go up for the coin toss and then get the titles. I recalled the little girl that I used to be; the one who had
played the game not for the recognition or social status, but simply because she loved it. It had never
been about anything else, but the fact that playing this game makes me the happiest of happy.
What Soccer Means To Me by Jana Persky
Red cottons, blue silks and green mesh are scattered around my closet. My mom told me to
clean out my closet, so I start to sort through my old soccer jerseys. As I do, memories wash over me.
As I feel the rough polyester of my first soccer jersey, I recall my first game. I scored three goals,
so I wore the jersey for a week in the hopes of retaining my luck. This was my first exposure to the joys
of soccer.
I touch the fabric of my red Gothia Cup jersey, remembering the time that soccer literally
opened the world to me. My team represented the United States in the opening ceremonies of the
Gothia Cup, an international tournament held in Sweden. As I walked in front of the rainbow of people, I
truly felt part of a worldwide soccer community.
I finger the patch on my yellow referee jersey. Besides paying for my teenage expenditures,
refereeing has given me a new perspective on the game. I definitely have respect for anyone who gives
up their weekends for the thankless job of refereeing.
Finally, I grab my lavender coaching t-shirt. Sharing my love of the game with eight year olds was
one of my favorite experiences. I remember the thrill when my little girls score their first goal of the
season on a fantastic passing sequence – it was just as exciting as any goal I have scored!
As I go through the jerseys, I think of all that soccer means to me. It has been such a tremendous
part of my life, whether playing, travelling, refereeing or coaching. Soccer has given me some of the
most exhilarating and the most heartbreaking moments of my life, but I wouldn’t trade them in for
anything. Each of those jerseys represents an experience that has made me who I am today. I put the
empty garbage bag back, and hide the jerseys high on my shelf so that in a few years, I can look back on
them again.
What Soccer Means To Me by David Stein
Rage inundated my body. A sensation of hopelessness, lined with frustration and incapability,
comprised my being. The season, which had gleamed with the promise of heightened responsibility and
ability to dictate my fate, now radiated positivity in a fashion similar to the final burning embers of a
once massive fire. My second year on the varsity soccer squad coincided with the conclusion of my
academic tenure at the high school. I had endured the limited playing time granted the previous season,
utilizing the belief that a starting position would be mine to relinquish as a senior. I engaged in an
appropriate amount of training during the off-season, extracting motivation from the vision embedded
in my mind. If requested to provide a projected starting line-up shortly before our first pre-season
contest, I would have inserted my name at one of the two starting full-back positions. When the coach
excluded “David Stein” from the first line-up, disappointment was abundant. I had become familiar with
his tendency to avoid variation in the back line, and, barring repeated lack-luster performances, I would
never enjoy the privilege of incorporation in the pre-game introductions.
Throughout my entire career, soccer has been instrumental in the understanding of real-world
occurrences. In addition to the realization that little ever transpires according to plan, this athletic
activity has demonstrated to me the importance of tolerating such discrepancies and reasserting one’s
abilities to unveil the location where success may be found. These lessons have been exhibited and
experienced first-hand, essentially serving as preparation which cannot yet command fill appreciation.
The comrades, development of athletic and interpersonal skills, and the establishment of character are
valued; but the preview of future problem encounters and solution recommendations will prove to pay
the most dividends for the remainder of life.
What Soccer Means To Me by Diane Turner
Over the years, soccer has become more than just a game to me. It is an outlet, an escape from
the stress of high school. A way to balance hours sitting in front of a computer screen with an innate
need for physical activity. A chance to step back from demanding courses and know that there is more
to life than textbooks. Soccer is all of these things, but it is more. The real reason I play the game is that
it transports me to “the moment.”
Every soccer player knows of the moment. The moment when the world stops turning on its axis
and time seems to slow. The moment when the stadium lights overhead shine brighter than ever
before, illuminating every blade of grass on the field in front of you but blocking out all visible evidence
of a world beyond the two goals. The moment when you could swear, if even just for a second, that time
stands still. When I find myself in this moment, it grabs a hold of me and doesn’t let go. Nothing else
matters – not school, not work, nothing. And in that instant, I am freer than I could ever be without this
beautiful game.
It is in those moments when I become completely enveloped in the game that I remember why I
play soccer. To me, soccer is many things. It is my hobby, my passion, my skill, my identity. But most of
all soccer helps me find “the moment,” and for that I love it.
What Soccer Means To Me by Katelyn Wood
I pull the shorts up to my waist, I put my socks on, and I slide my shin guards down into them. I
wrap electrical tape around my socks and tie up the laces of my Nike cleats. I throw my jersey on over
my head. No name on the back because that’s unimportant, it’s the name on the front that means
something. “1-2-3 WILDCATS!” I step onto the field for the first time at the beginning of the game and
everything feels like it’s in slow motion. You can’t hear the fans, your parents, your coach, or your
teammates. It’s silent. The referee blows the whistle and for ninety minutes nothing else in the world
matters. You’re free. You can forget about the stress of school, parents, college, work, everything. For
ninety minutes your mind in in another place.
Adrenaline. The feeling you get when there’s five minutes left and the score is all tied up. You’re
drenched in your own sweat, it’s hot, and every single muscle hurts. Your body is telling you to stop and
give up but the love of the game and fear of letting down yourself and your team pushes you through.
Going that extra mile, digging down deep, giving it all you have and knowing that it’s your best. The rush
of excitement when you hear the ball hit the back of the net. Suddenly everything comes alive; you hear
the crowd going crazy and your teammates screaming. I run to my team and jump on them. I smile and
laugh but I’m speechless. The final whistle blows and I fall to my knees. Trying to catch my breath, all I
can think is, “we did it.”
Soccer isn’t just a game; it’s a part of my life. It’s all I’ve known growing up. Ever since I was
seven years old, every single weekend was nothing but soccer. My closest friends growing up were the
girls on my soccer team. They were my second family. We did everything together. I fell in love with the
game because it was like a getaway. I lived for the excitement of winning, but learned how to lose. The
game taught me how to get right back up after falling. I learned that everyone has to fail before they can
succeed. We lost the state cup four times before finally winning. But the five years of hard work finally
paid off. In a way, soccer was one big life lesson for me.
Soccer is a team sport. Mia Hamm once said, “I am a member of a team, and I rely on the team, I
defer to it and sacrifice for it, because the team, not the individual, is the ultimate champion.” It may be
one girl who scores the game winning goal, but it’s the team who got her the ball. Winning to me is the
greatest feeling in the world, but what’s even better, is being able to share that feeling with the ones I
love… my team.