Everyone faces challenges in their
life -- some big, some small.
Coincidently enough, the issue was
being too small.
Since a young age, being small was a problem.
It didn’t allow me to get on rides in the
carnival. It didn’t let me be in the front seat of a
car. But most of all, it just made me shorter than
everyone else around me. These were things
that didn’t really bother me -- that is, until that
one day.
At seven years old, I had been just waking
up one morning when my dad told me that I’d be
going to play in a soccer game. I was so excited; it
would be the first sports team I would ever be on.
It wasn’t the highest team on the soccer
chain, but it didn’t matter to me. Soccer was
soccer.
Well, the game was amazing and it made
me realize I was pretty good at soccer: I scored
five goals. From that day on, soccer was what I
lived for.
I went through the years with soccer in my life,
joining club, travel, and school teams. I became a
pretty well-skilled left defender.
By high school, the real soccer was about
to start.
One day, the coach announced that he would
be giving out uniforms. My heart sank when I realized
that I wasn’t on the list. The coach had said
it would be hard to get on the team if you’re short
and a freshman -- and I was both.
In practice, I pushed myself to new limits.
When we ran, I made sure I was up front; when
we passed the ball, I made sure every touch was
flawless. Then the coach decided to have a scrimmage.
Afterwards, the coach told me I did good.
At the end of the day, the coach got us all
together and told us there had been changes. He
announced that I was on the team. It was one of
the proudest moments of my life.
I didn’t even care if I was benched or not; I
was on varsity my first year of school, and I was
happy. I proved that I could do things even though
I was short. I could do what I love because I wanted
it and I pushed for it. Then to put the icing on
the cake, the coach made me part of the starting
11. I was so proud of myself. ■