Small Town Soccer Girl

The game of soccer was my first love. My childhood memories and most of my friends were made on the soccer field. My dad coached, my sisters played with me and my mom was at every single game no matter what. I recall the first year I was given the Cal-Mum Varsity soccer jersey to wear. I had long wanted to trade in the ratty, hand-me-downs I wore as a JV player to wear the fresh maroon and white of the Varsity team.

We played for a small town. None of us would go Division I, we weren't very technical, and if we had tried out for a Class A team, the majority of us would be cut.

But we had two things that were undeniable: we were tough as nails, and we had heart.

I had the skill to play at the collegiate level, so I set out to find the right school. I ended up playing at a small school in Ohio, about six hours away from home. The girls were great, the coaches were alright, and the soccer was fast. Sadly, though, I lost the love for the game.

I don't think there was a 'right school' for me. What I loved most about soccer was the people and the place I played for. I longed for the maroon and white. I longed for my small town.

I made the decision to finish my education closer to home. It was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I know I could have played all four years in college, but I would be doing it for the wrong reasons.

Being close to home allowed me to watch my little sister play every game in her final season as a Red Raider. I was able to watch my younger teammates develop into beautiful and tough young women. I was able to watch Sarah lead her team to the state championship game.

Fortunately, I have re-found my love for the game and will be coaching at a class 4A high school in Indiana. The girls are very talented, technical and strong. They play year-round and the majority of them will probably play in college.

I think back to my team in high school, and I know we could've beaten them. Why? Because we were tough as nails... and we had heart.

Sports to me have always been about more than the talent and the numbers. I wanted to become a sports journalist because I wanted to tell the stories of the athletes; I wanted to tell about the trials and tribulations of those who dedicate their lives to sports. I have never been and never will be able to tell you the batting averages of the best hitters in the league or how many passing yards Peyton Manning had last season. To me that is just scratching the surface of what sports are all about.

I believe I have such a soft spot for these stories because of the Cal-Mum community. In a world full of powerhouse sports teams, we were the underdog, no matter if we had the better record or not. We weren't playing in club leagues all year round and we weren't coached by professionals. We succeeded because we had hard-nosed, hard-working, small-town people behind us.

The town of Caledonia is a typical small town where life revolves around sports. Some may view this as a bad thing. I don't. I think it tells a bigger story. The leading goal scorer on the soccer team is also a girl scout. While cheering on the football team you are also cheering on this years' lead in the musical. The quarterback is also the first baseman on the baseball team. The cheerleader on the top of the pyramid is also the president of the National Honor Society.

Sports tell wonderful stories, whether they end in tragedy or triumph. Caledonia is resilient. No matter the amount of grief and heartache, the entire town will still be out to watch the Raiders play Leroy on Friday night. They will be there when the seniors on the volleyball team play their final home game. They will be waiting at the monument as the softball team brings home that sectional trophy.

KACM. I'm thinking of you.

Caledonia-Mumford Red Raiders

I'm feeling rather nostalgic today after hearing the news of the horrendous crash that killed two and injured three Cal-Mum alum. For me Cal-Mum is home and although I've traveled to new places and met plenty of new people, those who I share my hometown memories with will always have a special place in my heart. It's hard to describe the connection and love that a small town like Caledonia has unless you grew up in one. At times the small size may irritate you and drive you crazy, but looking back I don't think I'd have it any other way. Because of the size of the school I was able to play multiple sports, be involved in music and art and, most importantly, get to know every person that I went to school with whether they graduated five years before me or five years after. I knew who they were and who their parents were and what they did for a living... in short, it is a wonderful place.

I am constantly reminded, sadly, that this accident wasn't the first loss in our small community. Just a month ago we lost one of the best guys I've ever known to a weight lifting accident. In the past year there has been so much loss and grief it seems that just when the black cloud finally lifts, it starts to rain again.

In times like these I wish I could go back in time when we were invincible and the most important thing was making the soccer team or being named lead in the musical. I spent some time looking through scrapbooks and photo albums today in order to bring back those feelings. So many great memories in Caledonia. I love you all and you're in my thoughts!

Core 4 and our moms!

Sarah's High School Graduation... missed ya, Em!

Class of 2006!

Writing... and what it's supposed to mean

I was told I wasn't what my dream job was looking for. I felt down. I started watching Netflix, but still felt down. I went on a walk with Juneau, and still felt down.

Then I sat outside and thought... I just want to write.

Writing has been an outlet for me. Just looking at this blog and the emotions I feel after re-reading my posts from years ago... it's amazing.

But for the past year I have been writing for work, trying to find the right words at the right time. I have been trying to write. And that is not fun, nor is it a release of emotion. Sometimes there is no purpose to writing. Sometimes writing is the purpose.

Words are written instead of spoken because you can always return to them and be in the moment again. I have always been best with my words. I hate when words start to be hard to write.

While studying journalism, the warning remains 'watch what you put on the internet'. You never know who is watching. Sometimes, I wish my future employer finds this blog. This blog is me. My best writing is here. I am good at what I do, but when words become hard, I struggle, just like anyone.

I may be the most emotional person in the world. But words put me at peace. They boost my mood. Lyrics, quotes, the ramblings of a disappointed college grad. They all belong in the world for some reason or another.

we both carry baggage, we picked up along the way

so if you love me do it gently, and i will do the same

Spring Hope

Do you ever wonder who you are? Do you ever wonder where you are going to be?

In the last six months as a struggling, sometimes failing, graduate from college who had to settle for working for her father, I have driven myself crazy trying to find a solid answer to these questions. At I think I have finally come to peace with an answer... I have no fucking idea.

The recent past has been filled with lovers quarrels, sibling rivalries, debt, loss of a job, loss of an apartment, loss of my independence, rejection from my dream graduate school, depression, tears. I have thrown myself into new television shows and books just to hide myself from the real feelings of my daily life. I have felt happier, to say the least.

However, as the days get longer and the sun seems to be poking through the clouds a little more, I can see that I have come full circle. I am no longer at rock bottom, although I have my moments. My problem now is that I have felt every emotion I could encounter for every day the past several months, and I am ready to move on...

I have come to this point in my life before, where I realize that the path is not already drawn for us and sometimes taking a leap is just what you need to get yourself out of the darkness. It is a strange feeling thinking it may be easier to stay in a place where hiding from your true potential and all those emotions may be easier than taking a new adventure, a new risk. It's always easier to fall asleep at night than to wake up in the morning.

It's refreshing knowing that I am so young, so full of ideas, and I have the opportunity to fail or succeed. I am tired of excuses: the economy sucks, Bachelor's Degrees don't get you far anymore, you don't have enough experience, etc and fucking etc.

I think I have finally grasped the notion that this is MY LIFE. I don't care if my decisions piss you off, if I'm not doing what the plan was all along, if I fail down and have to ask for a little help to get back up again. I have always been told that life is a journey, not a destination. I think that may be the best advice anyone could ever give.

sometimes you just have to remember why you fell in love

try not to judge me, cause we've walked down different paths

Glass- Thomson Square

Ours

"the truth of the matter is happiness isn't a constant. you get fleeting glimpses of it. when the rest it you are fighting for those moments. but those moments are what make it all worth it."
                                                                           - taylor swift

Winston Churchill

You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something in your life.

NEW SONG OBSESSION

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXXz8_equHQ

Revelations

I have been having some revelations as of late. I may owe this to Dave, after telling me one too many times that I do have a choice in my life.

I don't want to have a bad attitude anymore. I want happiness, hope, love, excitement, adventure... freedom. Freedom may seem deep, but this depression, this wave of not feeling good enough, it has a hold on me. I am making people around me sad, and I am staying sad.

I don't want to live this life wishing. I don't want to live this life to make someone else's easier. My life is mine for living. I see some changes on the horizon....

there's something in your eyes says we can beat this...

You know, I’ve got this theory; there are two kinds of people in the world. There are lyric people and music people. You know, the lyrics people tend to be analytical. You know, all about the meaning of the song. They’re the ones you see with the CD insert out like five minutes after buying it, pouring over the lyrics, interpreting the hell out of everything. Then there’s the music people…who could care less for the lyrics as long as it’s got, like, a good beat and you could dance to it. I don’t know, sometimes it might be easier to be a music girl and not a lyric girl. But since I’m not, let me just say this: sometimes things find you when you need them to find you. I believe that. And for me, it’s usually song lyrics.
-One Tree Hill

Sweet, sweet, victory!

“I didn’t want it to end the wrong way again,” Solo said. “I have waited a long time for this to come around again and I always kept the belief that it would end better this time.

“Some things happened on the field that we didn’t agree with but somehow it all worked out in the end and that shows how we never give up.”

“It has been a long road for me and I had some tough times to get here,” Solo said recently. “In life you get presented with opportunities and second chances and you have to take them.”

Wise words...

Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; begin it well and serenely and with too high a spirit to be cumbered with your old nonsense.
-Emerson

Pretty emotional these days...

It's a strange feeling when you grow old enough to look back at high school and college as a fond memory.  It's like you are finally old enough to recognize memories and recall how a certain point in your life felt. I have always been the type of person who dwells on certain events and I hang on every word people say. My boyfriend may say I think too much, but I think it takes a good writer to be able to recognize the little details in life. I don't remember grand events, I remember the little things... and I think the little things make me even more emotional than the average bear.

This past week my older sister announced her engagement to her soon-to-be husband, Shane. Although she told me weeks ago, I don't think the reality hit me until my parents found out and I looked at my dad, and he was glowing. He then took a deep breath and said, "Wow, one of you is getting married and the other one is moving across the country. OK" as if he needed to think about it all out loud, as if it was a little too much.

When I write, especially entries like this one, I throw my iTunes on and shuffle through the songs until I find one that will make me cry my eyes out. Today, thinking about how time has flown, how my older sister is getting, about how I will live 3,000 miles from my family, and about how my little sister is a senior in college, I can't stop crying. I even turned on "Backstreet's Back" and it reminded me of playing in my cousin's basement as young kids and another loud sniffle came out.

Change has always been my biggest enemy. It seems to creep up on me and instead of letting me process everything going on around me, it hits me like a big truck. It makes me feel torn between the world of was and the world of what is to be. It's impossible to live at home and have Mom cook me wonderful vegetarian meals, and, at the same time, move to New Mexico and live a life I never dreamed I would. I think Blink 182 said it best... I guess this is growing up!

Congrats Emily and Shane! I love you both!