Childhood Memories

From 1991 to 1997 I played on a recreational soccer team. We were the Arvada Hurricanes. And, no...we were not as tough as we sounded. I was the permanent fullback. But that was just when I was substituted in for Brittany Sanelli. She was the starter. I think the only part of the season that I looked forward to was the end- of-the-season pizza party at Dominoes Pizza. Because, well...free pizza and no more soccer.

Apparently from the ripe old age of five, my Dad must have thought that I had this unsurfaced skill of being a soccer star. So, he took it upon himself to put me on a team. Much to my dismay, I played. And in retrospect, I am glad. My Dad had such high hopes for me that he even spray-painted our fence posts in the backyard to represent the "goal". And i was supposed to try to somehow dribble the ball around my dad and make it into a 10-foot-wide, man-made soccer goal. Pretty sure I only ever made 3 goals...and that was in our backyard. But, thank you Dad for proving to me that I can do anything. Even if I adamantly oppose.

Although I am glad I had the "soccer" experience, I don't know what kind of kid would not be scarred for life after THIS typical day:

5:15PM: go and hide at Becky Well's house. I figured my dad wouldn't find me there, and I hoped that he would let me "take the day off" if (once he finally found me at Becky's) he realized that I wasn't in my soccer clothes. Well, good ol' Dad. He always came prepared...soccer cleats, shin guards, soccer shorts, and the oversized t-shirt. Actually, he even remembered the details with a ponytail holder. He left NO excuse for me not to make it in time to practice. Thanks Dad.

5:27PM: Drive to soccer practice. I was usually one of the first ones there (even after my sneaky attempts to hide), and because of this...my coach WAYNE* always figured we should have some drills on passing.

*Wayne. Let me explain. He must have been 24...but to me, I thought he was 50 something. He had long scragly permed hair. Did I say permed? Yes, and I mean it. And, don't let me forget that he had a pedophile mustache. Yeah, gross. When the movie "Wayne's World" came out, I seriously wondered why Wayne wasn't the star of the movie. He fit right in. Lest I forget to mention his lazy eye. So, amidst the thousands of times he yelled at me for not being "agressive" enough, I wondered if he really was looking at me.

5:33PM: The girls all arrived, and all of them were better than I was except for "Lisa". She didn't like soccer, and she was only playing because her twin sister was the soccer star on the team. Poor girl.

5:47PM: It always started to rain. And my little heart leaped for joy thinking that Wayne might actually cancel practice. Not the case. Read on.

5:53PM: This was when Wayne thought it would be appropriate to take his shirt off and be the goalie. So, here we are...trying to score a goal on our creepy, mustache-laden, shirtless, slimy(it was raining) coach. He would say, "I'll pay you a dollar if you can score on me!" Well, I don't know about you but I had NO desire to score a goal on him. I would've paid HIM a dollar just to stay away. So, THAT my friends, is why I never scored on Wayne. It was NOT because I couldn't. There I said it.

6:27PM: I start looking for my Dad's car to drive up. PLEASE dad, come early! Well...since my sister had soccer practice at the same time as I did, I usually was the last one to leave. First to get there, last to leave. Painful.

So...I will spare you the details of our Saturday soccer games, but let me just tell you that I was not good. Well, I was not aggressive. So, maybe I was good...I just didn't have the heart. Which led to one embarrassing occasion where my good-hearted older sister went up to Wayne and said, "This is a recreational soccer team! You need to put her on the field! She is just a little girl!" Thanks, Rachelle. (Sidenote: she has always been very protective of my well-being. It's so nice to have big sisters)

So, finally after years of convincing my dad that I wanted to be a singer, dancer, and actress but NOT a soccer player, I was able to escape that bondage of recreational soccer. And, I thought I had escaped it forever. Not so.

A month ago we got a text message from our brother-in-law that said this, "Indoor coed soccer spring season. You IN?" Hahahaha. WHAT?!? Well, somehow my fingers involuntarily responded, "Sure!" And, now here I am. On a co-ed soccer team. With my husband. My very patient, kind husband. My husband who, when he is the goalie, looks for me so that he can pass me the ball. Thanks, Sweetie. I am sorry I have turned the ball over so many times.

Well, luckily I have three games under my belt. And I can proudly say that I came out without any broken bones, and I only scored one goal for the other team. And, I scored for my team too. That's right. You aren't reading this wrong. I scored. But, it was a set-up. I stood by the goal and one of the really skilled soccer players did all of the work by bringing the ball down the field...and then he just passed it to me, and I just kicked it in. Yeah. I almost tore my shirt off and threw it to the crowd. Milestone completed.

So, since we have such a SUPPORTIVE family (love you all!) my Mom came to our last game and took some pictures. This was at our 11:25PM game last Saturday. I don't know why these people who make the schedules still think we are 18. 11:25 is two hours past my bedtime!

This was the exciting 9-month-and-2-days anniversary present I came home from work to! (Pink soccer ball, pink soccer shoe, and a reese's peanut butter cup). He knows how to get me on the soccer field...the color pink and Reese's.
These are the shoes with the ball and our new shoes. Blue and pink. His and Hers.
And I thought I might show you a picture of my sweet soccer moves. I can stop the ball. See?

This is Brandon and me with my CUTE Mom. Thanks for staying awake to watch us play, Mom. We love you!

This is me in all of my pink-shorts glory. No, the game hadn't started yet. Don't worry, I pay attention on the field.

This is my cute friend Sarah from our ward. Sooo glad she is a girl so she can play with us!

This is cute Tiff and Mike. Two of the soccer stars on the team

This is the team, cleverly named as "Soccer Team". It is so much fun to play with them (sans the parents in the background), except that they are all better than I am.

Our awesome fans who would stay awake until midnight just to watch their kids lose the game! We love you!