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

Tuesdays with Tiff? On a Monday?

Since I've gotten several requests to blog more often because some people lay around under the covers all day waiting for me to blog, I've decided to please my crowd.

But I will say this, you're welcome Simba, you big complainer you.

Last time I wrote, I told you about all that crazy things I've been doing while I've been here. And this one won't be much different. We had a scrimmage on Saturday against one of the top teams in Sweden, Linkopings FC, and we beat them 1-0. It was cool to get a win against a quality team, especially considering it was the first time we all played together.

What else?

Lydia and I have hung out with the Australians quite a bit the last few days. They have thick accents that are very difficult to understand. I think I'll have a better chance learning Danish before I can understand them. But nevertheless, when I do understand them, they're pretty funny and let me say, they are in desperate need of Twitter followers. Please donate your time by clicking "follow" for these two: Leena Khamis and Kim Carroll.

If they don't live up to being funny, feel free to unfollow.

Anyway, I finished reading Tuesdays with Morrie this morning before my nap and after shedding a few tears, quickly started to reevaluate.

What did I learn from reading this book?

1. Don't work your life away.

2. Put time into people who are worth putting time into and make their lives better.

3. Enjoy the little things (this is something I am a firm believer in anyway, but wanted to reiterate it) But what does it really mean? Well, honestly, I don't need trips to Bali Bali to have a smile on my face. I've been known to get extra super happy just by the sound of my mom's car pulling in the driveway or when Rock the Casbah randomly comes on the radio. You can actually make your own day by making things big enough in your heart to make your day.

4. Let love in. Don't close people off. Not everyone deserves your love, I agree, but there are many who do, and they deserve at least a chance.

5. Forgive. Morrie says forgive yourself for not doing things the way you wanted to do them and forgive others. Don't hold on to that anger. It will eat you up.

And I have something to add to this. Just my own bit.

I know that it's easy for someone to sit behind a blog and lecture. Or give opinions on the way life is supposed to be lived. But truly I just like to make people think. That's something I've done my whole life. Because I myself am a big thinker and I love what it does for my life.

The cool thing about life is there is no right answer. If I were to describe my perfect day, it won't look anything like yours. But it's about each person finding their perfect everything  - day, month, year, life. Their perfect person, place to live, job. And finally, the perfect dream to dream. If you can find that and not give a shit about what anyone else thinks, I think you've done very well for yourself. Not that it matters what I think. But what I should have said is, I bet you're pretty damn happy. And let's be honest, that is all that really matters.

You've got the whole world in your hands (yes, I was watching Con Air while I was writing this"

What's your perfect world? And what do you have to do to get there?

Party Time: You Pick the Theme

As I've gotten older, I've  realized how much of life is to be analyzed. It's not just a case of oh, that person is mad so they must be mean. It's more of, that person is mad or sad, maybe something is bothering them; maybe they are dealing with something other people can't understand. Makes you rethink how you treat people...

I have also found that there are a lot of people who are mad or sad and really there isn't anything wrong with them. All that is wrong with them is the pity party that is inside their head. They feel sorry for themselves for whatever reason. And this, in my opinion, is a choice.

Well, soccer, for me, made that pity party non-existent.

When you're on a team, everyone has their own issues. Some players aren't happy with what position they play, some players aren't happy with how much playing time they are getting, some players just aren't happy no matter what.

We've all been there. I've been there.

It's easy to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. To complain to the player sitting next to you and so on. Happens with parents too. Complaining about your kid not getting the playing time they "deserve" and feeling sorry for yourself and for them.

I remember one moment in my career very well. A player on the team was complaining because she wasn't named player of the year. She was complaining to a player who hardly played all season. Now, even though most teammates are also friends and are there for each other, you gotta wonder... does that player EVER stop and think about the big picture?

That other player would kill to just be on the field... and you're complaining about player of the year?

Of course you can argue that it's all relative. And so much of life is obviously. But soccer brought this to my attention like nothing else in my life.

I've been in both situations in my career. I've been on the bench and I've been the MVP. I know what it's like. But being on the bench also is a dream for someone who is injured. Shagging balls at practice to help the team out, but not being able to participate.

How does that person feel?

It just makes you think. About your own situation within the team and how other players might feel.

Taking this over to life is a no brainer.

When things aren't going your way, it's very easy to feel sorry for yourself. Trying to get other people in on the game is even easier.

But where does that really get you at the end of the day? Probably a pity party of one in your head and people who think you're selfish.

What can you do instead?

Host a BAMF party in your head. Think about all the great things about yourself that have made you happy and confident and proud in the past. Think about the people in your life and the shit they are going through. (That takes about 10 minutes of your time) (Depending on how many friends you have). Make their day better not worse.

Because at the end of the day no one really cares if you were the MVP or not. They care about how you treated them when they were in the dumps.

"Mom, if you ever have to make me go to practice, that's how I know I'm done playing."

"...it's a choice you make." This is the end of a conversation I had with a young soccer player recently. She told me she wanted to play professional soccer when she was older. And I told her what it takes.

Well, I told her one thing that I thought it took. And one decision I made without knowing I made it.  And I guess it was something soccer taught me without knowing it for a long time... but now I see what I have learned.

I was young. So young I wasn't in control of what I wore or where I went or anything. But I had the choice to play a sport. I chose soccer. And from the minute I made that choice, I made another choice. Soccer was my life.

Now, honestly, people say that shit all the time. "Soccer is my life." It's your life because you have practice three times a week and games on the weekends and can't go on all the vacations you want because you have tournaments in the summer.

That's not your life.

When I say soccer is my life, I mean, I wake up and find the latest youtube soccer video. Every piece of food I take in is dependent on when my workouts, trainings or games are. I schedule my life around games in the afternoon for Champions League and then wake up early on the weekends to watch EPL. I kick anything that rolls. And even things that don't roll. I like Sting a little more than other artists because he likes soccer and sometimes kicks balls out at his concerts. I'd rather wear a jersey than anything in the world. Eh, I don't know. I'm consumed. And soccer really is my life. And it has always been like this.

I was different when I was younger. I have a picture at a party in 8th grade and I had my full uniform on, shinguards and everything. Darkness was the only thing that got me to go inside from kicking the ball around. My Christmas list was straight out of Eurosport. I wanted my birthday party to be an indoor soccer game. I watched black and white videos of World Cups for hours and hours. By the time I was 10 years old, I not only knew how to do the Zico and a Cruyff, but I could pick them out of a crowd if I had to.

I was immersed in the game. In the same way that H.G. Bissinger had to be immersed in Odessa, Texas to write Friday Night Lights. I was taken out of whatever normal life I was in and put into a new one. That's the only way you can truly understand something to the fullest. You have to become a part of it.

In order to do this, you have to miss out on some other parts of your life. It takes a big sacrifice to immerse yourself into something. But it also gives big rewards.

Here's what I've learned. I'm a soccer nerd. I've always been a soccer nerd. In a way that rolling a golf ball through my cats legs makes me giggle. But it's gotten me some where. And I'm not talking about playing professionally and having experiences with the USWNT. I know what it's like to be different. To not follow the crowd. My whole life I wasn't doing what everyone else was doing, and because I was so caught up in soccer, I didn't even notice it.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this. That choice you make to play soccer or to do something you think is fun is a small decision in the grand scheme of life. How far you take the commitment to that decision will determine what comes from it.

I made my commitment to soccer when I was 5 years old and I never looked back. I never doubted how I felt about it. I was in. And I was in deep. And 23 years later, I'm still there.

Bissinger moved his wife and kids to Odessa to live the life of a football-crazed town in Texas to write a book about it. That was the only way he would ever fully grasp what that lifestyle was like.

How far will you go to get to where you want to be?

I Still Believe

Life is interesting being a female. All your life you're told that you can do anything.

But is it true?

It's funny because I think I went through phases. When I was little I believed I could truly do anything. I could go to the moon, play professional soccer, invent the next greatest thing and become a millionaire.  As I got older, the thought became that I could do some things, but probably not everything. I could possibly play professional soccer, if there was a league. The moon didn't seem too realistic and the only thing I might be able to invent was myself. And now, in my late 20s, I have fallen back to the beliefs of my youth and think anything is possible.

I'm not sure if this is the case for everyone. And I don't know that I would have ever had this realization had I not kicked a soccer ball for 23 years.

Here's the thing. I've been coaching a lot of little girls lately. Every time we work on a new skill I tell them they can do it. Three quarters of them look at me like I'm crazy. Like juggling is the most impossible task in the world. The others look at me as though I have all the answers, and one of them is knowing that they CAN do it.

The ones that believe are okay. What scares me are the ones that don't.

Why would I be scared? Well, I guess the time to believe in anything is when you're young. You don't know any better than to think anything is possible. So why wouldn't these girls believe me when I tell them they can do it? I can go right ahead and say parenting or teachers or coaches. Because these are the people influencing kids. Right? But I just can't imagine these people telling girls they can't do it.

What could it be?

I'm not even really sure I have an answer. But I do know what a lifetime of playing soccer can do for someone's confidence. And for someone's belief in the seemingly impossible.

I started kindergarten a year too early. According to the book Outliers by Maclcom Gladwell, if I had continued on the path of being a really young starter, I would have fallen behind significantly. My parents held me back to a transitional grade before entering first grade. This way, I was actually one of the older kids in my grade. And it changed my life forever.

I was able to accomplish small things. But I'm not talking about just the classroom. I'm talking about on the field. Every time I was able to do one thing, I moved on to the next. By the time I was 10 I could juggle over 200 times. And when I was 15 I was up to 740. I saw the progression. Not just in juggling but in everything I did on the field.

I have always used juggling as a bench mark in my life. The older I've gotten, the more I'm able to do. Because I've been working on it, yes, but also because I believe that I can do it. I know that I'm capable. I know that I've always been able to improve on my self, regardless of the circumstances in my life.

I dreamt of going to college and getting a scholarship so my parents didn't have to pay. I dreamt of being a professional soccer player. I dreamt of playing on TV and traveling around the world. I dreamt of being a writer and of one day writing a book. And I continue to dream and believe.

This is something I take pride in and I want to pass on to others.

Anything is possible. Not because I'm some corny optimist. I'm definitely not. I've just learned that if you want something and you have that almost-arrogant self-belief, anything really is possible.

Soccer has done a lot of things for me, but instilling the belief that there is no limit to your life is something I value more than most others.

This is why every December 5, when I turn a year older, I know that the 365 days ahead of me can be jam packed with absolutely anything I want.

And one of those days, NASA is going to call for me to be the first woman to juggle a soccer ball on the moon.

Hey, why not??

Give Me One Reason

I had a great conversation a few weeks ago with one of my mentors. We talked about ourselves compared to many other players who we've come across in our time. One of the biggest differences we noticed was how people approached the game of soccer. We split them up in two categories: people who play to get something out of it and people who play for the love of the game.

This sparked my interest quite a bit.

If the sole purpose of playing is to get something out of it, I feel as though there's always a chance that the game can fail you. You might not get to the college of your dreams or play professionally or travel the world with a national team. The shoe deals, commercials and ESPY award nomination just might fall through. Then what? Do you walk away from the game with a bitter taste in your mouth because you didn't get out of it what you expected?

Then there are the people who play for the love of it. The pickup game is just as enticing as the World Cup final and really, the game doesn't ever let you down, because it is always there. It can't let you down. The cool thing I've found by having this attitude is that you realize how much more you can get out of it when you don't expect it. Kind of the theme of this blog. All the great things that can come from playing usually aren't the reasons people play for.

My worry for the people who play to get something out of it is that bitter feeling they have toward soccer. They hated their college experience. Or the professional level wasn't what they expected. Then they're the parent that lives vicariously through their child playing. Or the coach that takes it out on their players because they weren't all they expected to be. I've actually seen this all too often.

I'm not sure exactly how to change this behavior pattern. Is it even something you can change? I mean I know there will always be the player who plays to get something out of it. But it's my hope that there can be less.

It's like gift-giving right? You don't give to receive. You give because you want to. Because you enjoy it. Not because you will get something in return. If you play or do something because you simply love doing it, you don't expect anything.

If soccer, or anything else you've done in your life has been a disappointment, think about the reasons why it was disappointing to you. What did you expect to get out of it? And what actually happened? After you get that out of your mind, think of all the good things that came as a result.

I might not ever get to play in the Olympics or the World Cup. But then I think back to all the times I've been on a field with a ball. From being in my front yard at 10 years old to kicking against the wall at Oakwood when I was 15 or knocking it around in racquet ball courts with Carmelina Moscato at Penn State when I was 21 and finally playing pickup with the boys now at 27. I don't do it for any reason except I love doing it.

So the question for you is..

Why is it you do whatever it is you do?

Soccer has taught me to do things for the right reasons. And for that, I have gotten more out of it than I ever could have imagined.

Pow! Boom! Bam!

Every person who has a blog and hasn't blogged in a while starts it off with how busy they've been and how it's been so difficult to keep up with writing. Blahg, Blagh, Blagh.

I just didn't feel like writing until today. There. That's my only reason.

With that said, I've had tons of ideas run through my brain.  But the theme I'm going with today is humility.

Some who know me well might think this is a joke, because I come off so cocky and confident at times. Truthfully, that's one side of me. With the style of play I've developed (BAMF), I have to act that way to a certain extent. I'm not going to meg someone with the "oh, I hope this move works" attitude. So, at times it's hard to switch out of that mentality. (Yes, I know this contradicts most superheroes because they're BAMFs and then in real life they're dorky (sorry Bruce, sorry Clark). Wait, did I just compare myself to a superhero?

YEP.

And this is why.

Like superheroes, athletes have been known to save the day. Look at Lionel Messi today in El Clasico.  He came out of nowhere to score the game-winner with three minutes to go in the game. He saved the day for Barcelona fans everywhere. As soccer players, we're given this opportunity every game we play in. Whether it's a finger -tip save, or a clearance off the line, or more obvious, the game-winning goal - no matter what, you can come up big for your team and save them.

Once you've done this a few times, people start to depend on you regularly. It becomes something expected. I had this in college and for a few teams after that, but not so much on the regular in my career. Which is fine, because I've learned to put my trust in others too. I've learned it's not always going to be about me all the time and it's not always my job to save the day. Duh, why do you think Batman brought in Robin? I doubt he wanted to share the success all the time, but he knew his limits and knew that he had to.  He knew that if he wanted to save the day (or win the game) he had to trust others.

And this is what I've learned in my life. Outside of soccer, it's great to take the world on going full speed on your own. But you're going to run out of gas sooner or later. You're going to need someone's help sooner or later. The faster you can admit this to yourself, the easier life becomes.

When you're watching a soccer game and a player gets to the end line with the ball, one of two things will happen : 1) the player will try to shoot from a ridiculous angle or 2) the player finds an open teammate in the box that can easily slide it home for a goal. The decision that's made in this instinct says a lot about the person. (Obviously if they mess up that's a different story about repetition during practices)

Humility; (noun) the quality or condition of being humble;  modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank, etc.

It's not always about the things you do...  sometimes it's about the things you don't do. And knowing you can't do them.

We're Going to Be Friends

With the Women's World Cup upon us, it is incredible to see how a sport can unite the world.  Soccer makes it possible for people from Equatorial Guinea and Brazil to have a common ground, even if it's only for 90 minutes. What soccer does on a global scale is something people are always talking about and something that is well established: fans of the game come together to enjoy the sport they love.

As a player, though, I've seen first hand how soccer can bring people together, and ultimately, keep them together.

I can honestly say that the majority of my soccer friends are people I probably would have never been friends with had I not met them on the field.  I can go through them and give you reasons why, but we all know that I have way too many friends for that. What I can tell you, though, is how soccer made us friends, and how soccer will keep us friends.

Now, obviously this is just a theory of mine, and last I checked, I'm no philosopher, but usually people write about what they think they know about, right?

I think about my friends a lot. I always wondered how soccer can keep me so connected to them. Then one day, I found the answer: passion.

It's really hard to play soccer at a high level if you're not passionate about it. It's really hard to do anything at a high level if you're not passionate about it. But what I've found about soccer players is that for the most part, they're passionate about everything they do. I remember team bowling outings that were some of the most competitive experiences of my life, simply because a lot of my teammates were passionate about winning. I have friends who are incredible artists, speakers, business women, promoters, musicians and coaches. They are passionate about what they do. And that's why I love them. That's why I understand them and they understand me. Because we're one in the same.

This has made the friend selection outside of soccer really interesting. The first thing I look for in people is if they are passionate or not.

That makes me wonder yet again. Does soccer bring passion out of someone who doesn't have it? Or do passionate people choose to play soccer?

I don't have the answer to this. And I think it's something difficult to measure because most kids start at such a young age and it would be hard to say if they are truly passionate about anything at that point.

I have found as of late that I don't care what you are passionate about. I don't care if it's car racing, flowers or Frosted Flakes. As long as you are passionate about something and you care about something enough that it makes you feel. If you're Frosted Flakes are too soggy, it pisses the eff out of you, and when they're perfect, man, it makes your freaking day. But whatever it is, it makes you feel something. If you don't care about anything, nothing will bother you. You won't be sad. You won't be happy or angry. You'll just exist. Flatline. Blah. Boring.

But if you have passion, not only will you live just a little bit more, but you'll meet other people who are similar and even more so than that, you'll see that your attitude can be contagious. AND above all of that, you will have the possibility to be my friend and let's face it, it doesn't get much better than that ;)

Big Time, So Much Larger Than Life

I feel as though most of the life lessons that come from playing soccer may come across as cliché to many.  Sometimes that scares me when I start a new blog.  Like of course we will be more confident women and of course we will work well with others, we play a team sport. Then I remind myself that it’s not always about the message, but about how it’s delivered, and I can say confidently that, like any side-armed pitcher in MLB, my delivery is anything but typical. With that said, one of my favorite acquired qualities from soccer is the idea of being bigtime.

Notice I said the idea of being bigtime.

It’s no surprise to anyone that we don’t make killer salaries and live in mansions with waterfront views.  (If that is a surprise, I’m sorry to shatter anyone’s false images).  We do, though, get to play soccer for a living, which technically qualifies us as professional athletes.  When people think of professional athletes, they think of all that comes with it… the money, the fame, the houses and cars, the Nike contracts and Gatorade commercials.  That is very much the reality for thousands of athletes, but not for the majority of women’s soccer players.

It was 2007, and I had recently signed for the SoccerPlus CT Reds (my all-time favorite group of players after the 2005 Nittany Lions).  It was during my preparation for the WPSL season that I met Mike LeGates.  According to Mike and everyone who knows him, everyone reading this should know him, so he doesn’t need an introduction of any sort.

The reason I want to talk about Mike is because I met him at a crucial time in my life; I was a year out of college, was in and out of USWNT and U-21/23 camps and had no idea how to prepare myself for these events.  Mike, among many other things, has been my soccer-specific strength and conditioning coach for the past four years.  At a time where I felt lost, I found the person who would help me get to the next level, physically and mentally.  If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be where I am today.

But the thing about Mike that’s so telling is not the incredible sessions he comes up with, or the motivation he instills in his players, or even the fact that strength and conditioning is just a side thing he does because he loves doing it.  What’s so telling about Mike, is how he conducts himself and the message he wants you to walk away with, a message that is so much stronger than moving your arms when you run, or landing quietly on box jumps.

Mike has taught all that have known him that being bigtime doesn’t have to be something that comes with money or fame.  Being bigtime is a state of mind that people can achieve on their own personal level.

Some of my favorite Mike LeGate’s stories include such things as: giving money back to clients who he felt just didn’t fit his mold; bringing his high school soccer uniform to school in a dry cleaners bag; handpicking players from Connecticut that he wants to work with and having a pair of ¾ adidas pants that only come out in the summer.

I felt like this was exactly what I needed in life, and not in an arrogant way.  I learned quickly from him that if I was going to do something in life, I might as well do it up as big as possible.  What’s the point of doing something half-assed?  So when I asked his advice on getting an agent for WPS he said confidently, “absolutely, that’s so bigtime.”  I received similar answers for my contract with adidas, playing in Europe, having my own website, being featured in different news mediums, getting a customized “OCHO” license plate and so on.

When I look back on my career, I’ll be able to say I lived life as a professional athlete to the best of my abilities. I lived it up. I did, and continue to, do all I can with what I have.  And I think that’s something people tend to forget.  A lot of times I like to give my mom money, because that’s what many NBA and NFL players do when they get professional contracts.  But instead of two million, it’s usually like two hundred.

In case I did a bad job getting the message across in this one, let me sum it up real quick: if you’re going to go to a concert; sit in the first row.  If you’re going to rent Saw, rent all of them and watch them in one day, and if you’re going to be Batman for Halloween you damn well better be walking around with someone dressed as the Joker or Robin.  Why not?? Do it and do it big.  You won’t regret it.

In fact, I promise it will make for a better experience and a hell of a story when you’re older.

And though I know I still have a long way to go before I’m at Mike’s standard, I am thankful for all he has bestowed onto me and very content with the title LBT aka Little Bigtime, until further notice.

Nothing On You

In my time playing soccer I have had a lot of coaches. I have had coaches who believed in every single step I took, and I've had coached coaches who didn't think I was good enough to see the pitch. Sometimes, these coaches were one in the same. Crazy huh? A coach has the ability to make or break a player.  I know so many people will argue that the player has to be mentally tough enough to deal with anything a coach does or says, but let's face it, it's never that easy.  Think about it in the sense of school work.  If you study your ass off and get an F, it doesn't really matter what you think personally, because you failed on paper.  Just like in practice if you're doing everything in your power and don't start over the weekend, it really doesn't matter what you think, you're on the bench.

It's during these times that players are tested the most in my opinion.

I can't tell you how many of my friends have come to me asking for advice about soccer.  Rarely do they come to me when they are playing and things are going well though, which is natural.  But one of the most common issues is that a player starts questioning their ability based on the decisions a coach is making. And don't get me wrong, I've been here a lot in my career.  I know this feeling all too well and it's pretty amazing how difficult it is to take my own advice, but I try, no matter what, to always remember that I'm a good player and that I am deserving of a spot on the field regardless of what any coach thinks.

So, even now it's easy for me to type this because I have been playing for my current team. Ask me this question last year, and I might have had a different answer for you.  Soccer is like that.  There are ups and downs. I have been up and down a lot. The key for any player to succeed is to remember that a coach is just one person. That person might have an agenda that has absolutely nothing to do with you or maybe you don't fit the style the team plays, or simply put, they just don't like how you play.  That doesn't mean every coach will think that and that doesn't mean you're a bad player - all it means is that ONE coach doesn't dig you. Trust me when I say it's not the end of the road, especially if you have the right attitude.

One thing I have always been really good at is believing in myself. I know my style of play doesn't fit the usual mold. I'm not the strongest or the fastest or even the hardest worker, but I like to play soccer like I think it should be played. I know I'm good at what I do, but at the same time I'm realistic with my expectations... I kind of always have been too.  Of course there are times I have to remind myself or I have to call my mom to hear that I'm good at soccer, but those self-doubt periods don't usually last long. They can't or I would never have any confidence.

One of the many reasons I decided to leave Boston last season was because I started to doubt myself as a player. As soon as I felt that inch into my life, I knew I needed a change.  I knew I was good and going to Sweden for three months reassured that.

I will never forget listening to a radio station that was lecturing the world of parents on three things you should never ever tell your children, and one of them was: "Don't ever tell them that they're the best." I was absolutely appalled. They said something about kids growing up feeling entitled because of this. My thoughts are different: I feel as though so many people will try to shut you down... so many people won't want you to succeed.  Take every ounce of all the good people in your life and soak it up like wine on a carpet and don't ever let it go.

Don't let one person's opinion dictate who you want to be or where you want to go. Don't let two people's opinion do that. Honestly, the depths of a person are incredible and even the most "insecure" people are stronger beyond anything they could ever imagine.

All in all, be you. They will either love you or hate you... but either way, they will never make you.