My Failure: Soccer

Let me start by offering a bit of background. I started playing some pickup soccer games with a group of friends a couple of years ago. At the time, my attitude was “Why not? It can’t be THAT hard, right? It’s just kicking a ball around…” Well, I was wrong. I quickly realized how much coordination, finesse, and endurance it takes to play the sport. Simply passing the ball or dribbling down the field was incredibly difficult, and for the first few outings, usually ended up with my butt or face on the ground. Fortunately, I have gotten better over the past couple years, although my footwork is a far cry from my soccer counterparts, most of which have been playing since they were in diapers!

Fast-forward to last Saturday. Normally, about 8-10 people show up on a given Saturday to play with us. I like those numbers because it keeps things a bit more simple, and I have more room for errors. However, this past outing was different. There were at least 14 players on the field, which meant narrower passing lanes, tighter defenses, and more aggressive offenses. In other words, certain doom for A-Mac.

The game started, and as I predicted, I looked terrible. Unforced turnovers and mental mistakes plagued me throughout the game. Often times I looked lost, and was the last option for passes. The opposing team knew how tough a time I was having, and rushed towards me every time I touched the ball. It was awful and extremely frustrating!

To make matters worse, an errant shot by one of the other players ended my day early. When I ran to retrieve the ball, my cleats started sliding on the concrete, and my foot and knee twisted in opposite directions. I hit the ground hard, skidding into the grass and lied there, fearing the worst. The other players rushed to my side. With their help I was slowly able to stand up and hobble to the bench, a positive sign that a major injury was avoided. And so, frustrated, dejected, and injured, I decided to forego any further injury risk and headed home with my tail between my legs. Although I’m sure they hated to see me leave in that condition, it was likely beneficial for the both of us.

So, what did I learn from this experience?

Humility. I believe I like soccer not only for the cardio, but the fact that it sincerely challenges me and humbles me at every level. I’m just not as good as these guys yet. Though I was able to gain their respect by showing up consistently and improving the way I did, this experience showed me that I’m still learning and growing as a soccer player. Catching up with these seasoned vets will be harder than I thought.

Patience. In the same vein, I can’t rush these things. Experience comes with time, and I’m going to have to continue taking my lumps and move on. Soccer is a difficult sport to learn. I don’t have moves committed to muscle memory like everyone else, so I have to think a lot more, slowing my reaction time. I need to keep doing what I’m doing to get better.

Confidence. One thing I’m working on in soccer (and sports in general) is to be okay with making mistakes. One of my flaws is a never-ending cycle of discouragement: that once my confidence is shaken, I make more mistakes, further decreasing my confidence. I need to be okay with not doing well, and believing that I’m awesome even when my play suggests otherwise. I want to have ice run through my veins, and that is not going to be easy. Very few people can perform well under vast amounts of pressure; I want to be one of them.

So in sum, my soccer game needs some work. I know I will hold my own with a few more years of experience, but for now I’m just going to have to eat humble pie and fake it until I make it.