Soccer AKA futbol. Love of the game.

Some people like the endurance sport and others find it pointless to run around chasing a ball. To each their own, but all I know is that soccer has brought good people in my life and has taught me countless valuable life lessons. I’ve learned in the Army that most people just want one or two take-aways from anything lengthy. Feel free to go to the bottom after Warrior Pose 1 comment!

My freshman year in college I had a professor, who I am very close with now, who tormented me in his computer technology class. I’m talking about calling me out in front of the class, having me stand up and answer questions, or even moving me towards the front of the classroom just so he could “see” me better. I’m an introvert; I belong in the BACK of the class!!! What brought this torture on? I had a soccer shirt on. His immediate response when I walked in, ten minutes early to class (who knew no one showed up until one minute prior to class?), no one in the classroom, “Soccer?! You know that’s the communist sport taking over the world?!” in his booming football coaching voice. I froze. Insert panic, sweaty palms. Fidgeted, did an awkward double check the room number and class schedule just to make sure I didn’t accidentally step into the wrong class. Nope. This was the class. This was the professor. He moved me upfront and started calling me Withrow and inserted communist sport comments here and there, along with why people chase a ball around a field for 90 minutes just to end up in a tie. I would make sarcastic comments back saying soccer players don’t need time outs, four quarters, and a 20 minute halftime, just to play 60 minutes of football that takes three hours to complete. This torture became enjoyable before midterms.  It became hilarious when I was complaining about this professor to a fellow freshman calculus student who finally confessed before semester end that it was her dad. Insert priceless awkward moment. They are my second family in Iowa/Kansas who I cherish.

Soccer wasn’t an easy sport for me to get into. In fact, it took a great man, Dave Peoples, to convince my parents to let me play in fifth grade. I still remember him coming over to my house multiple times to discuss soccer. At this time I had only known football -- playing on my brothers seventh grade tackle football team. I have never even watched a soccer game. With much persuading, my parents allowed me to play soccer and never looked back. I’m still convinced Dave Peoples saved me in letting me get to know the love of soccer. His motivation, vision and charisma kept me in the game for three years before he passed away. The team got black “DP” bands and wore them each game. In high school and college, I continued to wear my “DP” band, always thanking him for this amazing gift, every scrimmage, every game. He was/is one of the greatest people I have ever known. It’s so hard to believe that this past September marks 14 years…

Another Dave entered my life in high school-- Dave Goldstein. He was a soccer college coach in Oregon who started actively talking to me after my freshman year in high school. The Boise soccer club team I was on wasn’t working out with my schedule so he asked me to join his U-19 team, FC Perigrinos. Yes, it’s Spanish and a Mexican bird, and no, he was the whitest/hippy soccer coach you could ever meet.  I didn’t care about the name or color of our jersey (BRIGHT yellow!). I cared about the integrity of the coach, his vision, how he treated us younger players playing three levels up, and our development as soccer players. I enjoyed his honesty in our individual style of play. If we were sucking, he would tell us; if we did something well, he would let us know. He let my vision take over whenever I played; never restricting me, holding me back. He let me, be me. He gave me total freedom on the soccer field. His coaching philosophy was canny, direct and enjoyable. The biggest take away I took from three years with Dave—he would coach us during the week and he would bring his chair on game day and sit down. I remember asking why he sits and he replied, “You guys know what you need to do from training this week. I’m here to watch you guys play the game.”  I loved that concept! John Wooden is one of my favorite coaches to read about coaching philosophy (yes, he is basketball, which is still a great sport) and one of my all-time favorite books to read, “Wooden,” John is quoted saying, “failure to prepare is preparing to fail.” How easy and simple. Dave passed away while I was in college during open heart surgery. There is a picture that I was given my senior year in high school basketball season that I have on my wall—it shows me dribbling across a screen, you know doing a sweet move, preparing for an awesome assist to the post (those comments are dripping with sarcasm), but that’s not important. The people in the background—my sister, nephews, brother, mom, and Dave, all sitting right behind the bench.  Its these moments when you are older that you wish you could go back in time and relish, sit there and enjoy their presence, support, and love. Two Dave’s who have greatly impacted not only my life but my coaching philosophy and how I want to impact the players I coach.

I fell out of love with soccer for a long time. Quite simply, it was no longer fun but more of a burden. Junior and senior year was not the greatest on or off the field… out of every bad thing there is good, right? There is that saying, “those who can’t play, coach.” Injuries lead me to be an assistant coach, learning how to warm up keepers before games, working on practices, setting up fields, watching film, and how to progress drills to meet the final goal of the week. Something inside of me awakened that had been dormant for so long. Passion. Desire. Love.  Soccer is powerful, wrenching on the body and mentality. It’s not a giving sport. There are no time outs. You will make mistakes but you move on. Sometimes 90 minutes goes 120 minutes and you just have to keep going. When you stop running, you lose. Soccer is a paradigm of life.

When I got back to Idaho after six months of playing Army, an old friend (we’ve known each other since we were five years old) asked me to help coach a U-13 girls team. At first I was hesitant because I didn’t know if I was ready to be back in soccer. It’s hard to teach something you have a love/hate rollercoaster ride with... but I couldn’t say no. I’m so thankful to be coaching them because they have given me time to fall back in love with soccer. They certainly do have me wrapped around their feet with their unfiltered mouths talking about the strangest topics (unicorns and ketchup?), their laughter, them being 12 year olds talking about boys not focusing on practice, me yelling at them to focus and stop talking about boys and dances… such a blessing. Being around them and seeing their love for soccer has transferred over to me. I show up to practice and they all yell, “Whitney!” and when practice is over they always say, “thank you.” Their hearts are on the field and it’s amazing that they will completely surrender them to you as a coach. It’s also scary as hearts are so easy to break.

Two quick stories about the U-13 team…  1- This upcoming spring moms have asked for me to teach the girls how to change a tire, jump a car and fix a mountain bike chain; moms want to empower their daughters! This all came about when I helped jump start a players vehicle after practice—I was doing the hand signals for another car to pull up to the hood, had my jumper cables ready to go and one of the moms asked, “Wow, Whit, you know what you are doing. Did you grow up with brothers?” The daughter responded, “Mom, she’s Army. She can do anything.” I laughed and said yes to both. 2- Went to my first yoga session to support Niki's (coach of team) dream to be a certified, all out, yoga teacher and head to Chicago in a couple weeks. I was getting my mat ready to go and one of the soccer moms camp up to me and puts her hands on my shoulders saying, “I have to tell you that [daughter name] talks about your six pack all the time. She even said at practice when you are playing with them and you sweat how you can see your abs. She wants abs just like you!” I couldn’t help but literally laugh out loud, as did Niki. Def a compliment booster! (It also helps when the shirt is tucked into shorts/pants, gives a "leaner" look (haha)). It put into place the motto, “be careful what you say and do because little eyes and ears are listening and watching you.”

Almost done, don’t worry. Feel free to do Warrior Pose 1 at this moment.

Love of soccer. Love isn’t about you; it’s about the other person, your teammates, organization. The minute you start thinking love is all about you, that’s when greed and selfishness are gained, but your vision of the game is lost. I would always preach that soccer is all about K.I.S.S.—Keep. It. Simple. Stupid. The only thing on the soccer field that doesn’t sweat is the soccer ball. If you are working harder than the soccer ball then you are losing the game, tiring yourself out mentally and physically. You won’t be ready for any overtime. Take a step back and look at your life—if you are worrying about the future and regretting the past, then you are losing the game of the present. Yes, there are a lot of sucky people out there that have bruised your heart but maybe it’s almost halftime for you, you’ll get a break and you can change your lineup. The score isn’t final until the whistle blows. Guess what? In your life, you are the ref which means you have the whistle.

Not all who wander are aimless,

Whit