As a kid, my parents, like many others signed me up for activities. Such as sports, some of these stuck with me and some died out way earlier than others. Like that karate class I took after school in 2nd grade that never worked out, or that Irish dance class I took in middle school. It was all a matter of trial and error. But nothing stands out like the day I picked up a field hockey stick. I was in 5th grade, and all I remember about it was thinking "What the hell is this and why does it look so funny?!". Later on in my life I would soon have about 6 of them and they would be one of the most important things in my life.
I played on a house league for about 2 years until I was old enough and good enough to play on a travel team. I had always played defense until one day my team didn't have a goalie. No one else wanted to play so I took one for the team and suited up. Waddling over to my goal post like a penguin, all I can recall thinking was about how nervous I was and how I felt like a transformer in my all my pads. I finally made it to the goal after falling over a few times. I stood there and thought "This many pads are totally unnecessary!", later I would learn they're TOTALLY necessary. My coach followed me over to the goal and gave me some insight on how to be a goalie. She then took her first shot on me and bam, it hits the backboard of the goal. "Holy crap, I didn't even see the ball go past me" is what's going through my head at this point "This is gunna be much harder than I thought".
Years went by and I stayed with my position in the goal. All the nervousness never went away, I still walked to that goal (no longer waddling!) everyday thinking "When it comes down to it, I'm the final one responsible for every goal made." Don't get me wrong, I wasn't perfect I had my days where I'd walk off the field angry as all hell because I knew I could of done better. But also don't get me wrong, I was pretty good, I blocked more goals in my goalie days than I thought I ever could have.
Time came down to my sophomore year tryouts for field hockey, I wasn't too nervous since I'd been playing varsity as a freshman. But as we were running our 2 mile, my knee gave out. I crashed to the ground. I had tendinitis, and soon would learn I would need to take the season off to build up my leg strength. I remember walking away from those tryouts, that would be the last time I ever stepped onto a field hockey field.
Never did I ever think my sport would of ended this way. I could have went back and played my junior year of high school, but I let my social anxiety take the best of me and never made it back to my team. I was afraid of going back, at this point someone had already taken my position and I felt as if I was no longer needed. NOT TRUE. I just wished I knew that then and had made my way back to the field, suited up, and done what I love.
