The Spark

I was asked a question a couple days ago, and I could not come up with an answer. This bothered me, not because I did not know the answer (that is pretty common), but because I should have known the answer. The question was personal and about me, so if there is anyone who could answer it, I should have the best shot. The question was simple, not tricky or complex, and very straight forward.  I found myself up most of the night thinking about the question finding it very hard to go to sleep.  I kept thinking to myself, “I have committed my life to it and spend most of my time thinking about it, but I cannot answer this simple question?”  It is too simple and important of a question not to know the answer.

“Why do you love to play soccer?”

Again, I was completely puzzled by this question for several days, and I think it is because when you use the word “love,” things are never simple. It is a complex feeling that does not develop over night or happen suddenly. Over time, a person will develop an intense and deep affection for someone or something through the relationship shared. So what through my life, through my relationship with the game, brought me to love it? There are lot of things, events, and people who have been part of that process, but like most love stories, it all starts with a spark.

You may be surprised to know that my parents had to twist my arm to get me to go play a second season of soccer. My first year of recreational soccer at age 8 went fine, but my mom always reminds me to this day, a “battle” took place to get me to play the following year. Being 8, I do not know why I did not want to play; I was probably just being 8. It was the first and only time I had to be persuaded to play.

Soon after that, my family moved into a neighborhood with lots of other kids before my second season of soccer. The house had a big back yard and my dad put in a wooden fence around it. The yard was pretty flat except for a slight hill that rose up close to the back part of the fence. The backyard was a perfect place to play and it was common for all the neighborhood kids to be there playing football, baseball, anything else we could dream up, and of course, soccer.

Soccer was played most of the time. It seemed to be the easiest game to organize as it could be played with a few or a lot of people. Sometimes it was just a couple kids playing, and sometimes the games turned into neighborhood events. Kids and parents from the block would come by and play together. Using white paint to mark the goals on the fence on each side of the yard, the games would continue until it was too dark to see.  This was the “spark” that fostered my love for the game. Soccer from an early age always meant, I got to play with friends.

The times spent in the backyard playing soccer with my friends are some of my favorite memories as a kid. Playing the game gave me a lot of opportunities to hang out with friends and make new friends. Since soccer was always about me getting to play with friends, it was always something I looked forward to doing. When I was young, it was not about the game (strangely enough). It was what the game allowed me to do. I am sure this is the same for a lot of kids playing other sports or being part of different activities. Soccer allowed me to spend most of my time around people who meant the most to me in my life and still do to this day.

As I got older, this was one thing that never changed. The “pick up soccer” continued until I left for college (and continued in college). My family moved and circumstances (life) changed, but I always found a place to play and friends to play with almost everyday. Before I could drive, I would ride my bike to a local park to play. Once I could drive, I was able to get to the park a little faster and had more options on which parks I could go to play.

When I did not get to play, it was similar to not getting enough sleep or not eating well. I would not feel right. Soccer always made me feel better. Not just when I won or good things happened on the field, but also when I lost or had an “off day.” I still felt better than if I had not played at all. Playing the game became important to me. Not because I was trying to improve my skill level, but because I knew it would always make me feel better. I liked how I felt when I played, and I still do.

My love for the game came from the friends I made playing the game. It was not because of a coach, a win, or any particular moment of success. It has been the relationships developed over the years with friends, teammates, coaches and families that I cherish. I had some great coaches, some memorable victories, and personal accomplishments through the years, but those are not the reasons why I love it or kept playing. It was not a goal or a moment playing the game that kept me coming back to the field; it was my friends; it was the people around the game. This is why a bad coach, a loss, or any particular moment of failure, would never keep me from the soccer field.

Looking back, I think this is the main reason why I would work so hard on the soccer field when at training and in games. If I did not give my full effort and put in the extra time in on my own, part of me felt like I was letting my friends down. I owed it to them to be at my best when I stepped on the field and give everything I could to help them be successful. When I played poorly or felt my full effort was not given in training or in a game, I was disappointed more about letting my teammates down than the fact that I just did not play well. I guess I felt I always owed them my best effort and nothing less.

My best friends to this day, and most influential people in my life, came from soccer. I am grateful for every moment I got to spend with my friends playing and competing in the back yard or in the Big Ten. I got to accomplish things that were impossible to have done on my own and share them with people who meant the most to me. Who could ask for more?

The Spark for other kids may be something completely different, but there is always something that changes the importance of soccer, or any interest, for a child. My spark was my experience in my backyard playing soccer with my friends and family, and how it translated in to me constantly seeking out those experiences to play the game with friends throughout the rest of my life.

If you have a child who loves to play soccer, cannot get enough of it, and you have to pry the soccer ball away from them to get them to sleep, see if he or she can answer this question: “Why do you love to play soccer?” It will be interesting to hear what “spark” made the difference in your child’s life.