An Ironic Smile

As I packed my bags for our East Coast trip to New York, I realized I had way more stuff than when I arrived two months ago. A few trips to the Nike and adidas employee stores will do that to you I guess. Having somehow zipped the last zipper of my borrowed Portland Pilots duffle bag (traumatic), I sat by my luggage wondering who was going to carry all that stuff to the car. Unfortunately for me, my brother wasn't around and I had to do it alone.

Once I was back in the house doing my last check for anything I might have forgotten, I realized I didn't have any of my material items in sight. Even my phone was in the car. All I had for that brief moment was all I was.

Though not the ideal time for a defining moment in one's life, it was a feeling I'll never forget.

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When I came to Portland two months ago, I had a picture of what things would look like. I saw the YouTube videos of the team playing in front of 15,000 people and looked up places I would visit once I was there. I looked at the roster to see who I knew and who I thought I would be friends with (come on, everyone does that).

I mapped out what life as a Thorn would be like. It was like my own little mental book.

But even at 29 years old I'm still not emotionally intelligent enough to realize that planning and wondering is a waste of my time. It's never what I expect. And this experience was no different.

I was watching Friday Night Lights and this made me perk up:

"There ain't much difference between winnin' and losin', except for how the outside world treats you. But inside you, it's about all the same. It really is."

Whether we won or lost on Saturday wouldn't have mattered to me. Of course it's amazing to win. But the way I felt inside the past few months was enough to walk away fulfilled. I'm filled with love and satisfaction; personal achievement and team accomplishment. The way this team came together toward the end of the season was enough in itself. We learned about each other and ourselves, how to play different roles and to be ready for anything. We watched on as each person grew.

We saw practice players train as if their only goal was to make each of us better. We saw Becky Edwards and Nikki Washington jogging at our last training of the season after knee surgeries. We saw Alex Morgan and Tobin Heath cheering from the bench as if the game depended on the strength of their voices. We saw Adelaide Gay, my vote for teammate of a lifetime, make sure Karina LeBlanc had everything she needed before each and every match. We saw Christine Sinclair put the team on her back time and time again. We saw Rachel Buehler go into tackles that most American football players wouldn't go into. We saw Nikki Marshall and Danielle Foxhoven work as if the tank never emptied. And Allie Long play a position she never has as if she had her whole life. And SO much more of course. The longer I was there the more I saw people being themselves, on and off the field, one of the most inspiring things to see in this world. Because it reminds me to be myself. Which at times, is easy to forget, but vital in the quest for happiness.

I know I'm only a day or so out of season, but I'm not in Portland anymore. I'm not with my teammates anymore. My cleats are put away. So when I hear songs from the season I turn them off right away. I don't want to hear them. I don't like to listen to music that brings out that much emotion. It reminds me of that time and place and I don't want to forget that feeling. So I save it for when I really crave it - because I don't want it to remind me of something else. And I don't want to lose the feelings it brings out of me.

So I sit in silence a lot now. Reflecting about everything that has happened the past few months. The good and the bad. I think of my life like a book still and like a hopeless romantic and a writer, I don't think I could have written a better story myself. Like I said, I feel filled. And it's because of the people that, only two months ago, weren't even a thought in my life, but now I couldn't imagine being without.

There's something about fighting with a person for a common goal and seeing each other succeed that brings out something in you that you didn't know you even had. Almost to the point where you'd rather see them succeed than yourself. Because you know their struggle and they know yours. And your happiness is a direct result of theirs.

It's special.

Finally. I can walk away from Portland and my teammates and the amazing fans with an ironic smile. I say ironic because I'm not happy to be leaving. If I was then I did something wrong. I didn't give enough or I didn't put myself out there enough or work hard enough. But I did all those things. So I'm happy knowing that I'm sad.

For me, there is no better feeling in the world... To know that I left with so much more than what I came with.

Superheroes

The night before our last regular season home game I watched The Dark Knight because it happened to be on TV. Similar to when Pink Floyd is on the radio, I can never turn Batman off the TV if it's on. There aren't many movies that can take me away from my cell phone, or my selfie phone as I like to refer to it now, but Batman hits me where it matters - right in the feels.

When I was little, I had a streak of about five years where I was Batman for Halloween. Not Cat Woman. Not Poison Ivy (as if anyone would be her anyway) and certainly not Vicki Vale. (I don't even count Batgirl, sorry). I was Batman. I was a superhero. And that image as a six-year-old has rarely escaped my mind.

That image is something I've taken seriously, but mostly on the field. I mean sometimes I feel pretty good about myself when I can help my cat unhook his claw from the blanket, but realistically, he can get it himself if he really wanted to.

When I think of saving the day, I think of scoring the winning goal or clearing a ball off the goal line (I did it once, it was AWESOME); making a diving save or a big time tackle on a breakaway - or slotting the ball across the goal so that a teammate can easily help you save the day.

It's a special feeling. To contribute to something bigger than yourself. To see the look on your teammate's faces and hear the cheers from the crowd, that tell you how much they appreciate what you just did.

When the banner came up of the Thorns as superheroes  - all I could think was, holy shit. Then I turned in circles hoping to see my own cape. I realized after a few spins that it wasn't physically there, but it's always there in my mind and in my heart.

Then I thought...

Knowing that our fans think that of us, that they believe in us so much as to think we are superhero-like, is one of the best compliments we can get as an athlete.  (FYI: The other one is "you're really pretty").

The funny thing about our fans, especially the Rose City Riveters, is that they are our Alfred Pennyworths. They make us feel more like superheroes than any goal, save or tackle could. The support that they and the city of Portland have shown us this season is something so special that even I struggle to find the words.

But let me try. Imagine doing what you love for a living. Then imagine 15,000 people cheering you on every time you land a plane or publish a book. Or whatever it is you love doing.

Then imagine your competitor trying to bring you down. And those same 15,000 people standing behind you saying "no, honey, you need to take a step back, this is our house." And that happening every single day.  And even if you make a mistake on the job, like the best friend that will always tell you "you were too good for Zac Efron anyway", they will show you unconditional love like you've never experienced.

When someone has your back, you truly feel like you can do anything. Your superhero superpower is invincibility. You're untouchable. Being on a field competing in an arena like professional sports, there's nothing more powerful.

This superhero feeling was confirmed this morning at the airport.

The woman checking us in recognized us - I'll assume it's because we were wearing Portland Thorns gear though, because I wasn't wearing my headband (Side note: at times I don't even recognize me without my headband). She told us that we had inspired her granddaughter to play soccer again after previously quitting to run cross country.

I'm sure some of it was from being up so early without having had a coffee, but my blank stare was that of pure flattery.

We might not be the superheroes that save the world.  But we sure as hell are trying to be the superheroes that bring home a championship for the fans that have made us who we are and even more so, for the ones that want to be who we are.

So for all the Portland Thorns fans, in Portland and all over the world, thank you for making our regular season so special and so memorable.  Many of us have craved that kind of support for a long ass time. It's my hope that we can build on it, so the young ones can have it even better than we have had.

The Pursuit of Great

I randomly picked out the book Examined Lives by James Miller - because like most athletes, I think I'm on the path to becoming the next Socrates. (The irony of that statement is that Socrates was also one of the Brazilian soccer players I grew up idolizing - video clips here). Regardless of all the amazing coincidences that naturally occur during my writing, Miller talks about some of the greatest philosophers of all time and ends the chapter about Socrates with this bit of verbal gold:

"I know of no better aim of life than that of perishing, animae magnae prodigus, in pursuit of the great and the impossible." - Friedrich Nietzsche

From what I can gather, this means: using all of your strength and energy and life to follow your wildest dreams.

This intrigued the shit out of me. Mostly because there was a time when I had the wrong dreams. And it wasn't too long ago either.

Growing up I wanted to play professional soccer. Okay, so I did that, does that mean I'm done dreaming? Nah. It actually means I needed a change.  It's pretty amazing how your dreams change as you get older. It's more amazing when you realize what's important and what you really want out of life.

So now, at 29 years old, my dreams are much more in my control: to be the best person/player I can possibly be. Wow. That's actually attainable no matter what happens in my life. That is completely up to me.

The irony? That dream never stops being a dream. It's possible that it's never 100% fulfilled. It's possible that up until the very last breath I take, I'm always trying to achieve this.

When I step out on the field for training with the Portland Thorns, I take in a lot of things. Because I'm a philosopher, remember? I think about things more than I should. Like how if I remained the same person/player I was in 2005, I would never be here today. And if I had kept the same dreams throughout this process, I wouldn't be playing at all. I'm sure of that.

In 2007 I met someone that changed my life forever. I've written about him on this blog before, though for different reasons. His name is Mike LeGates and he's my mentor/trainer/friend. He's one of those rare gems that never gets the attention he deserves because he doesn't really even care about it. He does what he does because he loves it.

He taught me how to train and be a professional. He taught me that the game doesn't owe me anything... that if I don't play because I enjoy it, I'll walk away feeling empty after it's over. Without knowing it, he helped me shape my dreams into what they are today and in doing so, made me love life so much more.

The best part about my new dreams is that some cool things happen as a result of wanting to be the best I can be. Like playing for the Thorns. And being the editor of a women's soccer magazine. And traveling the world. And, oh yeah, meeting people who live their lives the same way.

I don't fault people for having dreams like being rich, or making the national team, or wanting to be the next Beyonce. We're told to have dreams like that from a young age. We are molded in a way that if we don't make it to that point, we didn't make it at all.  So it's a win or lose type of thing. And, wow, imagine how many people out there feel as if their life isn't good enough.

If I can impart one piece of advice to everyone, it's this (though I have given way more than that over time): it's never too late to change your dreams. It's never too late to become the best you can possibly be. It's never too late to work as hard as you possibly can. It's never too late to be the person you always  wanted to be.

"I know of no better aim of life than that of perishing, animae magnae prodigus, in pursuit of the great and the impossible." - Friedrich Nietzsche

The search for the best possible you might seem like an endless one. It might seem impossible. But we have to try. We have to give everything in the pursuit to find it.

"Get great or die trying" - Tiffany Weimer

Taking the Next Step

This is my first post since joining the Portland Thorns of the NWSL. If you weren't aware that I changed teams, now you know. I made the daring move from my "comfortable" life overseas back to the country I was born in. I imagine people have been dying for a post about the Thorns. I feel like they want to read about how Christine Sinclair never misses a shot in training or how Alex Morgan has a professional hairstylist straighten her pony tail every day for training.  Or maybe how Rachel Buehler randomly tackles complete strangers while walking down the street. Haha - what? None of those things are true.

I've been here for a little less than three weeks so far. As one can imagine, it's not an easy process to come into a team midseason, especially when you wear a headband. Everyone has established their place within the team, friendships have been made and well the new "kid" is almost 30 years old, and doesn't like to dance.

So here's the thing. I've had the opportunity to sit down and talk with almost everyone on the team. I've had the chance to get to know more about them than just what foot they'd like to receive the ball on. And my findings have been so impressive that I've felt compelled to write about them.

The thing people tend to forget about professional athletes is that they're a special breed. And I definitely don't mean that in the sense that they were born with special talents or physical attributes. They're special because the road to get to this point is difficult. Many of them have been through some shit... family stuff, injuries, living in different countries  - the road isn't easy. It's sometimes lonely. It's full of emotions we probably didn't even know existed. But it molds us into this passionate, competitive, detail-orientated monster that never takes the world as it is, demanding more not only from ourselves, but from everyone in our lives.

This puts us in a pretty incredible position. When we're at training we know we're among some of the most talented, hardworking soccer players in the world.  The fun part is that when we're not on the field, it's most of the same.  We inspire each other,and likely without ever knowing it, push one another to be more than we would have if we were doing this alone.

This has done so much for me in the short time I've been here.

And here's where shit gets real.

The feeling of inadequacy is natural in people. There's always more we can be doing and everyone knows it about themselves. I think there's a dangerous level of this where people never think they're good enough, but also a healthy level where we continue to push ourselves to see where we can go.

In my adjustment period, I've not only wanted to adapt to a new style of play, formation, coaches and environment on the field, but also the environment off the field. My teammates have inspired me to become more. I think that means they're special people.

We all place limits on ourselves. I had kind of capped my capabilities as a thinker. As a creator. As a writer. Not on purpose though. It just gradually happened. But sometimes all it takes is a conversation with someone new... hearing a different way of thinking, for us to reevaluate where we are and take the next step.

Because let's face it ... we're all just a little inspiration, probably just one conversation actually, away from that next step in our lives. We just have to make sure we don't miss it when it's there.

For Alitd (Forever)

I read today on Twitter that you should have the last sentence of your novel finished before you have your first sentence. I think that's true whenever I start to write. I know how it will end up, but i's always the most difficult to begin. So, now that you know you're with me through the most difficult part, maybe we have made some sort of connection. The beginning, of anything, is always the toughest. You are in a transition phase. You're learning. You don't quite understand the people around you or the process that is required. It's a lot like starting with a new team. What worked for one coach won't work for another. And you'll have a different assortment of teammates no matter where you go, especially different countries.

So in these cases, the most important quality a person can have is the ability to adapt.

I have learned this more than ever being overseas. If you are stuck in your ways, it's easy for a coach and for your teammates to dismiss you as different and stubborn. It's the person that is willing to change; that's willing to work for a certain cause that maybe they don't even believe in, that allows them to become one with the group they're working with.

Today, we played our Cup Final against Brøndby IF... the team we play all the big games against. Before the match, for one of the first times since I've been here, they played the Danish National Anthem.  Of course, a national anthem from a different country won't resonate the same as the one from your own, but today I felt something when it was playing. I felt a sense of pride for the country of Denmark and its people. I saw my teammates and the opposing team taking great pride in singing the national anthem, and although I'm not Danish, I've been so immersed in the culture and its people that I felt I was allowed to feel the same way.

During the Cup Final, which we lost in the 92nd minute 3-2, I felt what it meant to play for Fortuna Hjørring in a way that I hadn't before. I had been so interested in the results (win or loss) that I forgot how much pride we had in our club. How much respect I had for my teammates and my coaches and how much love I have for the game. It was one of those things that passes by you so fast, that you almost don't even get to enjoy it. But for a split second during the national anthem, I thought to myself, "wow, this is awesome..." and I almost felt as if I was Danish for a few minutes.

Being over seas for the past few years hasn't been an easy road. It's difficult when you don't understand the language, and sometimes the culture can be vastly different from what you're used to. The most important thing to remember is that there is no right or wrong way to live your life. The way the Danes do something compared to the way the Americans do it isn't right or wrong, it's just different. And that's something I've come to understand with trial and error. But something that will be relevant to so many aspects of my life.

What I'm trying to say here is this - there will be so many people in your life that will have different opinions, different ways of winning, different ways of making a grilled cheese, or different ways of getting to and from the grocery store, it doesn't mean that one way is right or wrong, all it means is that you should consider their way. You might not ever use it, or understand it, but as soon as you consider it, then you have shown that you have an open mind. It shows that you're not stuck in your own personal ways and habits. It shows that you are willing to grow and be bigger than the "I'm always right" attitude that so many of us have.

I'll be honest, before I came here, I had that attitude a lot. I just thought my way was better than most. But it's not true and it's never going to be true. There is so much to learn from other people and cultures. And I am so glad that I have had the opportunity to experience something so different from the American culture.

It's been a little over a year since I've been a regular member of the Danish society, (yes, I eat hot dogs and roast bread over an open fire). I can say with a sincere heart that this is my second home. I feel that I'm apart of this country in a way that if I left, they would miss the hell out of me :) no, but I would miss the hell out of this country.

This reminds me of one of my favorite song quotes of all time from Third Eye Blind (Motorcycle Driveby)

"I hope you take a piece of me with you"

Denmark, I will take more than a piece with me. And in hopes that I will be returning in the fall, I'll get to have even more. But for now, the piece I have is so big, that my heart is nearly full. It's a part of me that won't ever go away because it's changed me in a way that can't ever be undone. And to be honest, I don't want it to be undone.

The new me has Denmark to thank. And truly, I'll be forever thankful.

"For Altid"  (forever in Danish)

Defining Success

It usually takes a lot of thinking to get to this point. The point where I'm sitting  at my desk listening to some song that has no words by a dude born in the 1700s, looking at a blank post, eagerly awaiting those first few words. It takes even more actually to type though. Sometimes themes are more obvious than others. Sometimes it's just one instance that triggers a thought; sometimes it's a series of different instances with the same idea behind it. And that's what it has been like this time.

A few weeks ago, I finished reading Wooden on Leadership (a must-read for everyone). John Wooden, UCLA's legendary basketball coach and winner of 10 NCAA National Championships, though extremely simple, was a genius.  As a coach, he was very disciplined and focused on the things he and his team could control. He wasn't concerned with what the other teams were doing, but instead if his team did everything to the best of their ability, it wouldn't matter what anyone else was doing.

So this made me analyze every aspect of everything in life. Again. As always. I'm a nut job. And I like it.

Why are we always so concerned with what everyone else is doing? No, but really. Why?

Personally, I think it's easier to focus on other people. That's why we do it. It's harder to look within and take responsibility for the outcome of something. It's easier to say "they were just really good today" rather than "I sucked today".

After Bayern Munich crushed Barcelona last night, I accepted the fact that Bayern was the better team, that they "had Barcelona figured out". They lessened their strengths and took advantage of their weaknesses and that's how you beat teams.

It was a natural reaction for me. "Stop their good and you'll be okay" - that's hard to do

I then watched an interview with Bayern's Head Coach Jupp Heynckes where he said something along the lines of not worrying about what Barcelona was doing, that his team did everything they were supposed to do and bought into his way of coaching. And that was the difference in the game.

"Create your own good and you'll be even better" - that's more like it.

He never mentioned shutting down Messi in the first game, mistakes made by Victor Valdes or missed chances from Xavi. He didn't talk about Barcelona. He talked about his team. That's where his focus was and has been all year.

It made me think about scouting reports and worrying about star players and what the other team was doing. If Heynckes wasn't worried about Messi, the best player in the world, what does any coach in the world have to worry about? And why do we worry so much about something we can't even control instead of focusing on what is in our control?

Heynckes is the man right now as far as I'm concerned. He and his team killed it. They were like machines out there. And to be honest, they were more fun to watch than Barcelona the past two weeks.

Back to Wooden

I really appreciate the lessons from Coach Wooden. I never realized how awesome he was. He never talked about winning or scores or stats. He focused on the details. His idea of success was that every player did their best to reach their potential, nothing else.

As a player, I'm sure Coach Wooden would agree on a lot of things we worry about as being trivial. The weather, the pitch, the shape of our pony tail in our prematch photo(whoops), the other team, the coaches, the final score, the referee-  you name it, we can't control it.

I've changed my way of thinking a lot lately. I have seen the results of focusing on the little things and letting greatness unfold. Because you can't force greatness. It doesn't happen overnight and it definitely doesn't happen by worrying about things we can't control.

Ready, Set, Action!

This weekend we play one of the best teams in Europe. I won't even name them because it doesn't matter who they are, except a quality opponent that we should respect.

I'm not going to worry about who they are, what they're good at or what they've done in the past.

I'm going to take players on 1v1, take shots, track back like a gazelle on fire, win 50/50 balls and attempt to meg, meg, meg.

I'm going to focus on playing the best game I'm capable of, being a good teammate and letting the greatness unfold itself like a beautiful little origami of a game.

Because if you can walk away knowing you succeeded within Wooden's definition of success, allowing your inner boss to shine and your greatness to unfold naturally, what more can you ask of yourself? Win or lose, you're a freaking star! And if anyone argues it, tell em I sent ya... mmkay?

Why nutmegs are metaphors for life

What does it really mean to nutmeg someone in soccer? After doing extensive (typing the word “nutmeg” into Google) research, I found this on Wikipedia:

“The most likely source, however, was postulated by Peter Seddon in his book "Football Talk - The Language And Folklore Of The World's Greatest Game".[3] The word arose because of a sharp practice used in nutmeg exports between America and England. "Nutmegs were such a valuable commodity that unscrupulous exporters were to pull a fast one by mixing a helping of wooden replicas into the sacks being shipped to England," writes Seddon. "Being nutmegged soon came to imply stupidity on the part of the duped victim and cleverness on the part of the trickster." It soon caught on in football, implying that the player whose legs the ball had been played through had been tricked, or, nutmegged.”

In addition to the obvious trickery of the act, the nutmeg has had quite a profound impact on my life.

It kind of goes like this:

I was 10 years old. That was the first time I got megged by someone (on purpose). I remember it better than getting my first period. But both have changed me for the better  (though I liked being able to eat whatever I wanted and not gain weight…) But never mind that. The nutmeg changed my life.

Between the ages of 10 and 15, I had the absolute privilege of being coached by some of the best players ever to step foot on Jess Dow Field at Southern Connecticut State University. For those of you who don't know the history of the Southern men's soccer program, here's their media guide and list of players that have gone pro. (you might recognize the current head coach of the NY Red Bulls).

I recall with a beaming smile on my face coaches like Everald Benjamin, Gary Collins, Roland Joseph, Chris Payne, Nick Booth and one of my all-time favorites, Itai Mor.

These guys were incredible players and role models. But more importantly, they instilled a passion in the players they coached that couldn’t be replaced with any coaching licenses or big-time salaries.

I specifically remember Everald being one of the biggest influences on my soccer career. Plus, he was the first coach to nutmeg me. He came to every training session psyched as all hell to be there. He would dribble around all of us (girls) with a kind of swag and joy that was contagious.

I remember the feeling of getting megged and how embarrassing it was. He and the assistant would laugh about it as if their heads would roll right off their necks. I wasn’t even mad at the fact that I couldn’t figure out how to stop it then.  All I remember thinking was "wow, I really want to do that."

He never taught me how to do it. No one can really teach someone how to meg per se. It's one of those things you have to learn by first watching, then by experimenting yourself. I saw with my own two eyes the joy it brought to our coach in a training session with 10-year-old girls... I could only imagine what it would be like in a game for him… and of course, for me.

Once I got the courage to nutmeg someone, I wanted it all the time. Like a drug. Like a healthy drug that brings you crazy joy, but doesn’t leave you unable to function in life. It was (and still is sometimes) better than scoring a goal or winning a game. And for the longest time I couldn't explain why. But yesterday I watched this amazing video of Messi dribbling for 20 minutes. He has a ton of nutmegs in the video and each time he does it, it's shown in slow motion (with cool music in the background too).

What the heck is so special about this move?

Yes, it’s beautiful to watch. Yes, it’s very difficult to master. Yes, it’s embarrassing for the defender. But what else? There are other moves in soccer. What makes this one different?

From my own experiences, this is what makes it different.

It's like life. Sometimes you only get one chance. Sometimes the window is only open for a second. Sometimes, you have to force it open with a side-to-side movement or some other fake. Sometimes it seems near impossible. But as players, we still go for it. We go for it because it's the best feeling if it's executed. The reward is worth the risk.

Every time I go for a nutmeg, time stops and I don't breathe. That's what it feels like anyway. Time at least slows down. Like in the Messi video. That's my minds way of enjoying it more. Physically, it happens fast, but mentally, I'm enjoying every millisecond.

As soon as that window opens, I'm going for it. Failure doesn't play a part in my decision. The only thing that plays a part is the possibility of succeeding. That's all I need to try.

When it happens - and trust me, it will happen - you'll almost feel like you should stop for a second to acknowledge the greatness. Or other people should stop to acknowledge it. But you don't get to.

That's the other thing. It's not like a goal or winning a game. Because you get to celebrate those. This little morsel of beauty,(like the guitar solo in November Rain) doesn't get a specific time-out applause, take your shirt off, pop champagne moment. It's yours to celebrate.

But in the grand scheme of things, it passes in an instant. Until the next window opens. And bravery is called upon once again to take that split-second opportunity with the possibility to move forward in the game (and in life). The end.

More on nutmeg the food

I read this article by Ronnie Brown on the link between seratonin and self-confidence. It talks about different foods that help increase your seratonin level and in turn, your confidence level. 

One of the foods mentioned on the list... surprise, surprise: nutmeg. 

Ironic? I think not! 

We Are Magic

If you're familiar with 80s music then maybe you know where my title came from. I had my iTunes on shuffle and this Olivia Newton-John song came on. I didn't even know it was on my iTunes at all. This line "you have to believe we are magic" really got me thinking. The idea that we are "magic" is more true than any other I have heard about the human race.

Magic: Dictionary DefinitionNoun: The power of influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces Adjective: Used in magic or working by magic; having or apparently having supernatural powers

Magic: My Definition I have found, and I'm sure many of you can relate, that we place limits on ourselves. Maybe we think something like "this is as good as I'm gonna get" or "I just can't do that".

But then one day we are able to do something we thought we couldn't.

So in my opinion, magic is the result of being strong, resilient, confident, hardworking, indestructible etc. Because all those things lead to that moment where something clicks and we have proven ourselves wrong.

I will never forget the first time I did the juggling trick called "around the world". It's stupidly hard when you're first learning it. Like "there is no way my leg can do that". I worked on it and asked questions about it for years. Literally, years.

It wasn't until 2008 (about 5 years after I started trying it) when I was playing in Brazil with some of the most technical players in the world that I finally saw what I was doing wrong and fixed it. I surpassed that level of "I can't do this". It was magic.

What constitutes magic for you won't be the same for the next person, because everyone is so different. Some people could do an "around the world" the first time they pick up a ball. But everyone's magic moment stems from a fear of not being able to do something. A fear that, maybe, it will never happen.

But if our deepest fear truly is that we are powerful beyond measure, then possibly our greatest pleasure is overcoming that fear.  Finding the magic within ourselves from a place that we don't always know exists could be not only an amazing accomplishment, but a feeling of empowerment that anything is possible.

I never forget that feeling of overcoming the seemingly impossible. For me, it truly was magic.

A big part of it is forgetting about everyone else and focusing on the pure joy of creating our own magic. When we break it down, the reason we strive to do something seemingly impossible is purely for our own satisfaction, not someone else's. We probably won't feel as great as we think after we have proven them right or wrong . We will feel better because we have proven to ourselves that anything is possible. 

So, thanks Olivia. You sparked a lot of thought in me today. And I too believe we are magic.

So with all of that said......"LET'S GET PHYSICAL, PHYSICAL..." JK.

Bye.

A Finntastic Weekend

As we drove up the winding, snowy hills to our destination, a few things were immediately obvious. 1. We weren’t going shopping in any kind of downtown Helsinki coffee shop infested areas 2. It was borderline creepy how smoothly we were driving on so much snow and 3. Any minute now we would run into a huge candy cane sign that said “North Pole”. But whatever. We didn’t care. We just wanted to get to our beds ASAP. We had left Hjørring at 2pm and arrived to the training center at 2am. Twelve-hour travel days are the best.

The dorm-like sleeping arrangements were better than expected, and once we woke up to (not the sun, because we didn’t see the sun the entire weekend) let’s call them shiny clouds, it was evident that we were at a high quality training facility.

The amount of snow and ice that covered said facility were less desirable as you can imagine.

The joke of the weekend was that we went to Finland for a preseason tournament, instead of oh, I know don’t know, Spain or Turkey, to appreciate Hjørring more.

At one point I said to my coach “Ok ok, I get it, I get it, Hjørring is awesome, we can go home now!”

But nevertheless, we stayed. And we enjoyed it.

We jumped in an ice lake or whatever they call it. It’s a Finnish tradition, right? So, you jump in the water for a second and go in the sauna after. I pictured it going much smoother, but it was more chaos than my life prefers.

I slowly stepped into the water, (which is a feat in itself because I’m terrified of not being able to see what’s beneath me) dunked my head under, shot up out of the water, grabbed my towel and clothes and ran barefoot through the snow to the sauna.  All the while screaming “it’s not worth it”.

But it was. I was just having a moment.  And being dramatic.

So we did that. We played two games against the No. 1 and 2 teams in Finland, and Finnished the weekend with a win and a loss.  (did you catch that brilliance?) As with all preseason matches, we learned things. And talked tactics. And learned things. And talked tactics. And complained about our legs being sore and the such.

But enough about soccer.

We had much more important things going on. Like making a Harlem Shake video… which I believe is roaming the internet like a scared cat that knows there’s a dog close by. It’s like one of those things you probably shouldn’t do because everyone else is doing it but you do it because everyone else is doing it, but after you do it, you’re like why did we do that, but you’re like well let’s just watch it five more times.  Yeah, I don’t even know where it is.

We played some team bonding trivia game. And let me tell you, our teammates are so considerate to make the questions in Danish and English so the Americans could participate.  There were questions like “What species of monkey is Rafiki from Lion King” and “Which country has one the most men’s World Cups”… I told everyone before we started playing that my team would win, and we did. Some may say that’s cocky, I say I’m just instilling confidence in my team. Bro.

Let’s see here. I’m almost done, don’t worry.

I saw one of my old teammates from AIK (Sweden). She calls me a douchebag every time I see her. We have an ironic friendship. It’s ironic because she’s the douchebag… Yeah I hope you're reading this.

Fast forward to the travel home.

I wrote this sitting in the van on our 5-hour (I wrote year instead of hour at first, because that’s what it felt like I guess) ride back to Hjørring. We stopped to eat at a rest stop off the highway in Denmark. If you think the Jersey Turnpike has slim pickings, you just shouldn’t think that.

We had the choice: McDonalds, Burger King or a place called Sunset Boulevard.  Sunset (which is what the locals call it) is a far cry from what you imagine Sunset Boulevard to be like. It’s a combination of Subway, McDonalds and imported shitty French fries. So, Casey (the other American), Nino (a player on trial from Georgia- the country) and I ate at Burger King.

Guess today was our cheat day.

So, that’s all for now. Except the Titanic song just came on the radio. And all I can think about is how I know what that freezing cold water felt like now that I’m an experienced Fin-dipper (I am assuming that’s what they’re called, I don’t have the exact dictionary spelling, sorry).

I’ll write again soon. There are lots of things going on here in Denmark... like the timer on our laundry adding extra time during the cycle and my old housemates (aka my teammates that are under the age of 22) accidentally putting my VISA in the trash mail pile. You know, the usual.

A Conversation With Your Next Week Self

As I was sitting on the plane from Newark to Amsterdam, beginning my journey back to Hjørring for the second part of the season, so many thoughts went through my head. I was having what I like to call unorganized thoughts, or mixed emotions.

For the most part in my life, I know what I feel when I feel it, and usually my emotions have been on par to the situation at hand. If I score a goal or we win a game, I'm happy; if I lose something I'm frustrated with myself; if I don't finish a workout I'm disappointed in myself etc.

But when I was sitting on that plane, leaving my friends and family at home, going back to playing soccer in Denmark, I couldn't figure out what I felt. And for someone who is OCD, this was pretty emotional. Yes, on a plane.

I thought about the goodbye I had with my mom, something that crushes my heart to the very core. I can't even look at her when I say bye now because her eyes fill up with tears as soon as I say "alright Mom, I gotta get going". Then I walk out the door with my bags, get in the car, put my sunglasses on and let it out myself.

On the plane I thought about that scenario over and over and how if I told my next week self about it, she would laugh. Because my next week self would be sitting in her new house, with her teammates, playing soccer every day, watching it on TV, staring at her shined boots, carefully putting on each shinguard (right before left) and getting stains out of her headband.

My next week self was more Ocho (my alter ego) than Tiffany. Tiffany is very sensitive, shy and more recluse-like than the egotistical, in your face, Ocho. Ocho can handle being away from home and living the dream. Tiffany misses her mom.

As I stepped onto the field for our first training session the day I arrived, I started to feel that sensitive side slowly fade. I was exhausted, but knew I could push through training. Eventually, I wasn't pushing through, I was just back in that game flow.

We were doing a drill where we had a defender on our back and we had to try to turn and beat them. I got a hard pass in, tried to chip it so it spun backwards over the defender's head and though it just wasn't high enough, I looked at my teammate and we both smiled and laughed.

That's why I'm here. That's why I was able to leave. That happiness overshadowed the sadness of leaving.

In that instant, I knew I didn't have to wait to hear from my next week self, because I had heard from my current self that things were okay. I wrote on my Facebook a quote that I came up with before I left -"leaving home is always harder than it seems, but nothing would be harder than not living out your dreams" I am sure there are variations of this same saying, but I liked that I could rhyme it.

The idea that I wouldn't hurt my own feelings by leaving my family and friends always wades in and out of my mind. I could feel that sense of security all day every day. That feeling has always been very comfortable and a major part of why "Tiffany" still lives at home for part of the year. "She" needs that though.

But my mom and I always remember very well what I was like when I was sitting the bench for the Breakers a few years ago. That, regardless if I was home every weekend, I wasn't truly happy.

Maybe one day I'll have the luxury of soccer and family in the same place. But until then, this is the way my dream is possible. This is where I need to be.

So, as I sit here in the confines of a small, Danish town, I am very content knowing that Ocho and Tiffany can live as one. Where both can thrive and live out parts of their lives that make them happy. Your next week self is always going to be the person who deals with the consequences of that prior decision.

It's your current self's job to ensure that the difficult decision will pay off for them.

Signing off... Ochiffany