The rough gravel scared my knees as I went in for a hard tackle against a boy twice my size. I heard laughs from all the boys as I striped the ball from his feet. Every recess I would go out with one goal, to play soccer. I was the only girl out on the field most of the time, but I did not care all I cared about was where the soccer ball was. As other girls were talking about their hair, cute boys or, what they were wearing I was on the soccer field doing what I loved and would become a lifelong passion. From the day I was born I have always been moving I could never sit still and one day my parents put two and two together and put me on a soccer field. I took the ball and ran they could never get me to stop. Once I got going I ate, slept, and played soccer.
When I was 7 I finally got to be in my first tournament, the show-me state 3v3 soccer tournament. My parents had put together a group from my rec team, and again I was the only girl. My first game was at 7:00 in the night, so I had all day to worry and I couldn’t contain my nerves, all morning my parents tried to calm me telling me
“You’ll do great!”
“But what if I don’t?” I responded my young worried eyes looked up at them
“Don’t worry Nora you know that you will be fine.” They said it in the tone that I knew that there would be no more discussion about it. Then finally after a long day of worry and excitement it was 6 and we went to the field, as we drove up I had butterflies in my stomach and could feel the excitement of the game coming. As I stepped onto the turf my heart started beating and I couldn’t wait till I was running around. At the first whistle I sprinted towards the ball and wouldn’t stop till I got it. We lost every single game but I had the time of my life, I loved the feel of the wind on my face as I sprinted around the field feeling the tap tap of the ball as I maneuvered my way around the other players, and the pleasure that came with passing that perfect ball to my teammate. I especially loved the cheering of the sidelines and one voice in particular, my grandpas. His voice reached over everyone else’s reaching into my body and making me work harder it was the thing that kept me going when we started losing, no matter what happened he was always there cheering me on. After the last game I went up to my grandpa crying. He swung me up in his arm and asked “What’s wrong?” I replied through sobs “I want to play more but the tournament is over.” He just looked at me and laughed. That is when I noticed a strange man talking to my parents I couldn’t make out what they were saying so went back to playing with my grandpa. But that night my parents sat me down, they told me a coach had approached them from a competitive team and would like me to play with them. I was stunned I couldn’t believe that I was going to play for a competitive team. That I would be playing with all girls and the coach was the coach not only for Columbia Courage but also Columbia College.

The next week I opened the door to the Columbia College turf room I was greeted by an overwhelming amount of heat, there was a smell of sweat, and there were loud sounds of girls laughing and running around. I froze scared to enter but too excited to run away. I felt as if it hours had passed before anyone noticed the awkward girl standing in the doorway once they did though they came over and had huge smiles on their faces. My grandfather’s words that he had whispered to me before I had left the house rang in my ear “just be yourself and play the game.” The words motivated me as if a giant hand pushed me onto the turf toward the smiling girls. I hesitantly walked forward my heart beating so that I could hear it in my head and feel it in my knees. Right as I had brought the courage up to say hi a loud booming voice yelled “Huddle up girls! Before we start playing I would like to introduce Nora to you” said the coach he had blond short hair with a navy blue jacket that said Columbia College, He introduced himself as Coach Klien and then he threw out balls and we started playing, and that was that no big introduction like I had been expecting, or any long speech about being nice. At the time I thought it was strange but now I realize that is Coach Kleins personality he let us be and let us sort the problems out by ourselves, all he cared about was the soccer so instead of a long talk we started right away. As I started I realized that I had been holding my breath the whole time and only when I touched a soccer ball was when I could breathe again, It was the only time that I was relaxed, there was little talk, not like on the rec team where people would never settle down, never focus but here on this competitive team it was all about soccer which is what I loved about it. They didn’t come to socialize they came to play soccer

Courage became my identity I would wear the red sweatshirt that said Columbia Courage everywhere. If people saw a red sweatshirt coming they immediately thought of me. We have a family photo in the summer and everyone else was wearing a t-shirt but I was wearing my sweatshirt. I lived and breathed the team. We became a family and unlike other teams we never fought on the field only encouraged. We spent 7 full years together we had been through everything together we had lost together, we had won together, and we had worked together. They became my rock, the people I go to when I have problems. Columbia Courage became my life and my passion.

Every weekend we had games, and through ran and shine my grandpa came to support us. And still his voice always reached over everyone else’s. He was there consistently until one day I noticed the side lines were quieter, something didn’t seem right then I realized my grandpa was gone. That night my parents told me he was just too tired today to come. But then the next game he wasn’t there either and then the next and then it became rare for him to be there at all. I knew the end was near but nothing I did could prepare me for the pain I was about to experience.

It happened October 15, 2010 it was one week before his birthday, when my grandfather passed away. It was a terrible night. I didn’t feel like it was real, we were all gathered around his bed, where there once was a strong and loving man there now lay a lifeless body. No one could admit it we all just sat silent. I gripped his hand trying to urge him to come back tears streamed down my face nothing and no one would console me. I sat there forever just trying to remember his face and the feel of his hands, not wanting to leave.

Our next game would be the most important one of my life, not for who we were playing against but who I was playing for. As I stepped onto the field the only thing running through my mind was my grandpa. I thought of my first memory of him it was Christmas and we were playing our usual game. “I got your nose!” he said his big leathery strong hands grabbed my small button nose. He showed me it sticking out between his fist. I screeched jumping back my young mind wondering was there really a chance that he had taken my nose? But then as soon as it happed he popped it right back on. His arms engulfed my small frail body surrounding me with warmth, I breathed in his scent, the slightest scent of after-shave, I felt at home in his arms. It was Christmas Eve my favorite time of year even back then as a 5 year old I loved the magic of Christmas, the tree, the lights that draped every house, and made golden reflections on the windows. My Grandparents house always was beautiful with red stockings on the mantle, a giant tree in the middle of the living room and presents all over big bows on top of everyone. It looked as if it was out of a magazine. That Christmas I got a bike, a coloring book and then my last present was from my grandpa, it was in a small box a big red bow on top. I tore through the paper ripping every piece off until there was a pile of a paper surrounding my feet. In the box was a beautiful black and white soccer ball there was a moment where I was silent soaking in how beautiful it seemed, not every 5 year old girl wants a soccer ball but to me it was everything, I had never played on a real team but even then I knew this is what I wanted to do.
This was going through my mind when the game started, then I thought of him on the sidelines as I went in for a tackle and then again as I crossed into molly’s head and as the ball whipped into the back of the net I felt at home again I felt his warm arms wrap around me and say “just play the game.”