My Brothers have always been the biggest role models for me and how I should live my life. I’ve always had the mind-set all I need to do is be as strong, smart, clever, funny, etc. as they are. They’ve set an example for me that have affected my decisions of my life and what I should do.

Ever since I’ve grown up I’ve always gone to Hickman Soccer games to watch my brother’s play. I would sit in the stands every game looking on, dreaming that one day I could be just like them. So I started playing in a recreational league at the age of 4 and after a few years it became obvious that I was a skilled player of the game, just like my brothers had been. I developed a love for the game of soccer. Every time I stepped on the field I felt as if I were making my brothers proud by carrying on the family legacy. I would play with intensity and emotion, so much so if we lost a game, I would cry and proceed to reason that only if my teammates were better than the outcome of the game would’ve been a win.
After continuing on with this habit for nine years, I finally got my chance to play at a higher level and tried out for a competitive soccer team in town. I showed up the first day of tryouts having no idea what to expect. Stepping out onto the smooth, even cut grass, I made a resolution that I would play my best and my hardest and go from there. I stood on the field with about 35 other boys waiting for tryouts to begin, some boys chattering about “Are you gonna make A or B team this year?”, and others responding “A team of course!” I knew I had something to prove because almost all the kids didn’t even know my name. After an innerving prelude, the actual tryout begun. We started flying through drill after drill in which all the boys were obviously familiar with and easily participated in, but I however struggled knowing whether I should pass the ball to a certain line or where to go. It seemed so alien to me. Becoming very frustrated and confused I just tried to do my best and do something right. But these kids were far more advanced than I expected. All I wanted to was be able to make the A team to show that I had some kind of legitimate skill but these players far outweighed in opponent I’d ever faced in my rec league. But soon the frustrating tryouts came to an end and we were placed into two different groups, one being the A team, and one being the B team. I knew I hadn’t played well and my position on the team reflected that. I had made the B team.

My attitude changed. I felt I was a failure and wouldn’t amount to my expected potential if I was on the B team and my playing reflected that. I had to adjust to the higher competition of the B team. When I stepped out on the field it was more with purpose and I felt as if I were playing for myself, to prove I shouldn’t be there. The first half of my season, I didn’t play well. I had little chemistry with my teammates, and even they didn’t play very well. Part of the problem was my coach placed me at defense, which I never liked much, but I was strong at (little did I know this would help me in the future). Where I wanted to be was up top as a Forward. I always loved scoring the goals and being the hero, but it was harder to do here. So I stepped it up. I made it my only initiative to impress my coach and eventually with a little luck I did. During our practice drills I did everything perfectly and started to see the coach’s eyes tingle with interest. However one scrimmage changed everything. We got with a partner to play 2v2 continuous. It was a simple game where if one team shoots at your goal and it goes in or out, a pair of new partners comes on from that side trying to score on the opposing goal. My partner and I started off facing another set of partners. I immediately launched a shot from 25 yards away and it went in, causing a new team to come on. I was just getting started. I ran up to the man with the ball and jockeyed him, waiting for the right time to steal the ball from him. I saw my opportunity and stole the ball giving me an easy shot on goal. Getting my chest over the ball, I swung my foot forward with might impacting the smooth leather, the ball giving way from its previous nest in the grass. It flew forward, right into the top of the goal as the net swooshed back. Nailing the shot, we kept our streak going, winning round after round. My coach even shouted to everyone “He’s on fire! Somebody’s got to stop him” His words sweeping through me like a wildfire of adrenaline. Finally my opponent decided to kick it as hard as he could out of bounds giving Gabe and myself a short break. It was finally happening. I was showing my true ability and how I could change the game. Our starting forward came up to me and said “Well I guess we have ourselves a new forward on our team!” I went home that night feeling something I hadn’t had in a while. Confidence. A confidence that helped carry me throughout the rest of the season. At the end of our season I led the team in scoring with 8 goals and 3 assists including a goal that won the game against Avalon.

I began looking forward to my upcoming high school career. The only downside to a successful end to my competitive soccer season that it made me perhaps a little too cocky. I knew there were better players out there but I thought, “How could they really be?” Plus with high school soccer, there came an increased sense of competition and pressure. Everyone would know who I was related too. The head coach and two assistant coaches had played with my two oldest brothers and the coach of the JV team had coached my brothers. Would I amount to their expectations? My first taste of the high school competition came in summer soccer workouts. I approached LeMone field, stomach churning. A group of forty boys were milling around the field putting their gear on. I hardly recognized any of the faces in the group, except a few freshmen. I could already tell who the seniors were, the way they carried themselves with a sort of swagger to their stride. All the other boys were sizing each other up trying to see who would stand in their way of making the team. I was no stranger to this process. Only now this seemed much more important. I was playing for the pride and legacy of my family. The workout began with a vigorous exercise program called Insanity, which is described perfectly by its name, pure Insanity. The program lasted for about 20 minutes, but by the end most of the boys were bending over on the ground panting, drenched in sweat. I was one of them. Most of the fit seniors walked off the field grinning, watching us in struggle with pleasure. Yells circulated around the field, informing us to get up and get the rest of your gear on for the tryout. I hurried over to the bench and started changing.

“How was that for you ?” my friend asked

“Bad. And we have to do that every practice once we’re on the team?” I replied

“Yeah, Coach said that’s how we’ll start practice.” he said with sorrow
“Oh great” I thought. Just thinking about the physical conditioning that would be required to play on the team made me less motivated.

The rest of the workout set the tone for my summer workout experience. It was tough playing with such highly skilled players, and I struggled to do much of anything against their experienced way of play. Also it was physically exhausting. I woke up the next morning after the workout, sore in my arms in legs from the exercises of Insanity. But it was mostly worrisome. I small tinge of doubt kept creeping into me of how I wouldn’t make the team and that I would never be good enough. Eventually the day came where I had a chance to prove my spot on the team. Tryouts.

The tryouts were scheduled to last three days, Monday through Wednesday and if you managed to make the team you would start practice Thursday. But our year turned out to be the exception and that the competition was to close so tryouts would be Monday through Friday. I wasn’t sure how I was doing. I paid attention and tried to show the coaches I was willing to work and give my genuine attention, yet I wasn’t standing out. One day, the coaches spread us out into two large groups, one group filled with mostly upperclassmen and a few freshmen, obviously the Varsity prospects, and the rest of us looked like the JV/C team. A bright spot of the week was a scrimmage halfway through the week. Split into half and half, with a coach given to both teams, the teams were set as fair as they could. With about 20 players on each team the coach chose his top 11 players to start the game. He first assigned positions to sophomores and juniors that he knew were good, but he had one spot left and he looked right at me.

“Hey, what position do you play?” he said

Caught on the spot and shocked I replied,

“Anything is fine.”

“Can you play defense?” he asked, obviously testing my versatility.

“Ehhh, I can give it a shot.” I replied hesitantly.

“Alright, play left back.” he said satisfied that he’d finished his lineup.

We walked on the field, ready to compete. I was just hoping that I didn’t screw anything up to badly because I was on the defensive line with three sophomores. However, I was still astounded that Coach chose me; I had to act like I knew what I was doing. The scrimmage started off fast paced and the ball was moved up and down the field. On a few occasions the ball came into my premises and I quickly cleared it downfield to an open man. Soon halftime came and our team was up 1-0. My coach came up to me and laughed saying “Oh yeah, you’re not a defender” sarcastically. I smiled at him (later I would find out that Coach played with my older brother while he played Hickman soccer). This carried me through the rest of the week up to Friday when the teams were being assigned. The Varsity group had been informed that all of them had in fact made Varsity. Our group was still unsure of who had made what team. The Coaches began calling names in threes, telling all three people that they had made JV. They had six groups of three when the next group they called my name along with another sophomore. But it was only two names. We approached the coaches confused about our situation.

Coach essentially said that we had played well and that we would play dual roster for the C team and JV. I had no idea what to do or say. All I could manage to say was “Okay” and chose my jersey and soccer bag. Was I C team material? I thought I was better than that. I knew I was better than that. But I had to come to reality, and tell myself that I’d get a lot of experience this year from playing double the amount of games everyone else does.

What I had to realize was I was not my brothers. I was my own individual person who is on my own individual path. Only I would be able to write my future, and although I do have great examples to live like, I don’t need to focus on living up to them.