Am I Ashamed That I love Soccer? Heck No

Growing up in a small country town, most boys play sports  and eventually try out and participate on one of the many teams offered at their high school. Now most of the kids tried out for football, basketball and baseball. As much as I enjoy those games, I passed. I chose soccer. Now, this was and still is significant for my life. For most of the jocks on campus, soccer made no sense to them. There were a few popular boys on the team and they were really not the best representatives of the team. Nevertheless, they and the rest of the boys helped foster a love, a passion for this sport that I cannot really explain. But let me try in this short story.

I started playing soccer when I was 9. My mom says that she needed to find something that allowed me to run around and spend all of the energy that was stored in my little body. I guess I was a handful. And from that season for the next 13 years, I was active on some team and sometimes two teams a year. When I was little it was fun. But as I got to middle school and then high school, it was about the competition. It was about that feeling that I got when I scored goals. When I ran past my defenders and helped my team score. I loved it. But was it just from playing? No, it was because my step-father introduced me to two specific soccer teams, of which I still follow today. The first team he introduced me to was Glasgow Rangers and the other was the infamous team from England Manchester United.

On Saturdays and sometimes sunday, we would wake up extra early to watch the match. To see if Eric Cantona was able to do it again and win the game for Manchester. To see if Paul Gascoigne was able to show his magic on the field for Rangers. I loved these games. Over time, this love turned into passion. I tried to emulate what I saw on the TV on the field. Sometimes it got me in trouble with my coaches but most of the time, it helped me become a better player. But was this it? Was this how I got to where I am today? No but this is where it gets interesting.

As a sophomore in high school, I got the chance to tryout for a team that was going to play in China. I shared my interest with my parents. They felt that if I made the team, I deserved to go. I pushed myself. I practiced in the backyard. I practiced my shots, passing and foot control. I showed up on the date of the tryouts and there were something like 30 kids. Only 15 were going to be picked. I was nervous. Despite my nerves, I pushed myself and low and behold, I made the team. In a few short months, I found myself in Hong Kong. I got to see some of the sights seen in pictures my father took while he was on leave during Vietnam. I played in a game in their national stadium, where we got killed. I didn't care. It was a great experience. The following day, I found myself on a ferry that travelled up the Yellow River to the metropolis known as Guangzhou. What an amazing place. People everywhere. Poverty was rampant and I later was told we were followed by the police everywhere we went. My team got the chance to play twice and we won one of the games. I got an assist! The teams we played against were amazing. They wore white keds, white tshirts and the same blue shorts. Some had socks but most did not. But what still amazes me today is that they were able to compete. We had all the equipment possible. Shoes, shin guards, fancy uniforms and warm ups. I felt so guilty that after our last match. I gave my shoes away to one of the kids I played against. So did others on the team. This touched me deeply and today I still remember the hand shake with that young man. His look of thanks. His bow and the rest of the teams following gesture. They took us out to a 7 course meal of authentic Chinese cuisine.

So essentially, this trip and another I had in Germany where I got to play for the city's main soccer club, taught me that this is more than a game. Its a moment in time where two sides can put all of the worries of the world aside. Respect each other as if nothing else at that time was more important. Now I know there is the reputation of soccer gangs. Indeed they are real. But if one was to take a look at what happens on weekends all over the globe, millions of people, arguably billions watch this game in peace.

Earlier this week, I got to see my team. I got to go to the Timbers. I never thought I would feel this way about a team in my life. They bring out all of the worries I have. They bring sunshine to my life. When they win, its a feeling I cannot explain. When they lose, its terrible. Its like a part of me will never be the same. But I cannot stop. I must keep on going back. My brothers and sisters I have made in the Timbers Army over the years has been unique. Some of these people I may only see a few times a year. But its like were family. Knowing that I have to wait until the 31st of March for the next home match is almost unbearable. There is nothing like being at a game live. Nothing. I have been to baseball, football, basketball and hockey but nothing is like a Timbers match. Nothing.

As you can see, I love this game. It has taught me things that no book, class, teacher, professor or family member could ever teach me. Maybe it was easier to explain than I thought but I know for a fact that I could go on and on and on about it. What do you think? Do enjoy soccer in any way? If not, give it a try.