Why The US Women's National Team is Breaking Our Hearts

As I coached watched the US Womens' Soccer Team desperately beat Columbia 2-0 the other night, I went to bed sad with the lack of good soccer our team is putting out. I'm not sure what is causing the lack of "Wow" factor they are playing with this world cup, but my heart is broken for them. This is a group of talented women who chose to play a sport because they love the game. They are beyond talented and so deserve to win a world cup (hello 16 year drought). They are amazing women with individual stories to tell. They are the role models that more athletes should be. They stay in their soccer world playing their game. Rarely do we hear of them outside of a soccer story. Yet, we are being so very critical of the their performance so far and it's breaking hearts.

This past year I had a group of students who were sure they would be NFL stars. I found this more than annoying. They didn't want to play because they loved the game (ok, one of them did) but they wanted to be famous and have a Nike contract. A precedent set before them no less.Being the realist that I am, we quickly researched the average career span of an NFL player to find it was 3 years. Most are left bankrupt 3 years after that. I have yet to see an endorsement for being unemployed and bankrupt before 30.  I told my kids they could have the NFL dream, just have a back up plan too. This is where the National Team is different from other athletes. The US soccer team loves the game first. A few of them make good money with endorsements and a world cup win would land them a nice bonus check or two, but they love the game first. Sure there's a Women's League to play in, but the pay isn't much. They didn't dream of endorsements, fans and autographs growing up. They just wanted to play soccer.


These players love the small loyal fan base they have, because for many of them, I'm sure they remember watching the 99' world cup final where the team became America's Sweethearts. The 11 year old in me who watched that game wide eyed and on the edge of my seat, so longs to see them win again. The next generation needs to fall in love with this team and the amazing women that wear the uniform. If you follow any of the players on social media you will see how grounded they are. They can be seen playing pranks, card games and singing on the team bus. Much like the many youth teams on the road. Making them that much more lovable and real.

They are humble in interviews and will generously give their time talking to fans. Carly Lloyd stayed after training to talk to the press and had to ride back after the team bus left. So when she saw a group of girls decked in the red white and blue (FYI Nike: those are our colors) she had the car stop and she hopped out to say hello. Watch the video here: Carly Surprises Fans. Obtaining an autograph from a player is fairly easy if you attend a game and stick around.

Tomorrow the team takes on China in the quarterfinals and you can watch the game on Fox at 7:30 (ET). A 99' world cup final rematch. While we should win this game, soccer is so very unpredictable. My hope for this game is that the "WOW" factor is back. That America falls in love with this new generation of players whom we so love this team and believe in all that it can do. The next generation needs you just as we needed the 99's. #Shebelieves

Remember this moment?

To follow the team behind the scenes check out these short videos on Behind the Crest or get to know them with their 23 Stories 

And this SNL skit it just wonderful so here's a bonus one for you: World Cup SNL

People You meet (deal with) at the Atlanta airport

A recent trip led me to one of the busiest places on earth. Atlanta's Airport. It really is an experience on its own. You'll feel like you will have been on an adventure before you ever actually get to your destination.

First you will have to find your way to security, but be sure it's not the TSA fast pass lane or Delta Sky line security. They will kick you out. Once you find the correct line, you may enter. Unless you're stuck behind some one who doesn't have any form of ID on them. Why this person is a functioning member of society I do not know.  Luckily for this individual her back was turned to me and could not see the "can you really be this dumb" look on my face. Fun fact, you can prove your identity with a prescription bottle. I feel safe now.

Now it's time for the Metal Detector XRay Box-o-Fun. For said contraption you must remove shoes and stand in line. This is not sacred ground like that at the Grand Ole Opry, but cold tile that every one else has had their gross feet on. Now being Atlanta we can be fancy at times and some have come dressed to impress. You'll have to wait behind the fashionista as she takes off her very adorable but not TSA friendly shoes, and her 6 pieces of Jewelry. This can also be said of the T.I wanna be with his chain and belt buckle. We are so diverse here. If you're lucky you will make it though with ease. However there's a 50/50 chance that some one packed something they should not have and they have to scan the bag back and forth, back and forth, Little slower, but back and forth while you watch ole Joe sweat. This can be stressful or funny depending. Personally, I just wanted to point on their recent TSA fail rate of 95% and to move on! Who is allowed to continue working with those kind of numbers any ways??!


You will also have to wait as Fashion and T.I re-accessorize post Box-O-Fun. I believe their should be a line for intelligent people and a line for those of the less gifted kind. Unlike the tiny airports scattered over our country, A train ride is required to get to your gate. Don't jack this part up.

Once at the gate you can people watch and it't fantastic. You will more than likely observe the following people:

Cute family of 5: All kids under age 6 and with cute adorable kiddie luggage. Now I know it's 2 bags per person but a 3 year old cannot carry around her adorable flower suitcase on wheels. It's 3/4 her size and poor dad is left getting on the plane carrying all three of said suitcases. Just put the kid crap in your bag and call it a day. Save us all from your boarding struggle.

A business man on a phone call. Those that travel for work have every right to work while they wait. There's just no need to be that loud on the your phone. We don't care about bay 3 at the warehouse. Must you all be so loud?? Find a spot in the corner and use your inside voice.

Meal packers. There is no need to pack a lasagna in the jumbo tupperware for a 45 min flight. It's just overkill in my book. Also in the food category are the loud eaters. No, I am not sorry for the glare of death I gave you for gulping your pizza so get some manners.

Then there's the sky-miles seller. I once got to watch a young black guy on his first day of work. He would only approach young black females for his sales pitch. His female boss later showed up and showed him how it's done. I love observing society.

After the observation hour is over it's time to board. They will begin boarding and by begin I mean first class, and such. However, the people will disregard this information and the herd will rise and cluster around the gate looking slightly agitated that they are out of their seat. Chill Veruka, there's not a gold tick hiding on the plane for you. No need to stampede the gate. I have yet to figure out why every one wants to get on right away? I'll just wait and stroll on at the end with ease.

Karma caught up to me on my travels this time. My punishment for silently mocking the people I watch was handed to me on the way home in the form of a seat in the last row between to "walls of humanity" as the man referred to it. There I sat all 125 lbs of me between two guys well over 300 lbs each. The arm rest disappeared never to be seen again. When headed for my seat the flight attendant couldn't even look me in the eyes. It was that bad. Luckily it was short flight as my fresh oxygen supply was being sucked up by the hibernating bears I wouldn't have made it much longer.

I tried to read because that's how introverts deal with the world. It was hard to focus and I ended up rereading the funny spots in Jen Hatmaker's new book For the Love. She puts some of the funny parts of life in her honest heavy books and they are wonderful. If you find yourself stuck between two giants, have something fun to read.  Who know what next air port adventure will bring. I will leave you with my nub hot dog legs between the walls of humanity......

Other side of the pitch

When you coach youth sports you meet amazing families and some shall we say, who let their colors show. After playing the sport and logging a few year of coaching you learn to see the big picture to youth sports such as what matters at each age and what level you are playing at. I'm often asked questions about coach and if I could tell one thing to sports parents it's this: See the forest through the trees.

First of all, if you have to tell me "I'm not that overbearing crazy parent" I hate to break it to you, but you are. Don't try to tell the coach you played in the 80s so you know how it is. Again, being the barer of bad news, in the 80's any girl willing to run and wear a sports bra made the team. Women's sports and the game of soccer have evolved in the past 30 years. But please, do tell me your thoughts.

Over the years I have had the pleasure of coaching the most emotionally stable age group ever, girls ages 11-14. 15 players on a team, 65 personalities. I like to call it emotional roulette. Some motivated by critical comments where others would crumble at the slightest hint of criticism. Some simply needing to be told, job well done. Each team I coach was so very different from the last. One year I coached a team that's wasn't close to a top level team in the soccer word, but they worked hard and had fun. They were from blue collar families and they played like it, pure reckless abandon. We had so much fun. The next year I had a team of nerds with a mostly white collar lifestyle. They were beyond analytic and I am convinced that if I gave them a text book and said their would be a test, they would have won a few more games. No actual practice with a ball necessary. A group eager to please and make sure every one was having a good time. They challenged me as a coach and I enjoyed trying to figure them out. As a parent, take note of the team and player dynamics. They matter in girls sports. Those dynamics change the way we coach.

Some parents wonder why their supper star suddenly can't do anything right. With kids growing and learning, they are all due for an awkward and frustrating season around age 12.  It's a little thing we call puberty.  No one is coordinated during puberty. Dribbling a ball while your feet and legs grow at an unnatural rate is not easy. To the parent who is wondering why sally suddenly can't hit the broad side of the barn, she grew 6 inches in 3 months, let it go. She'll get her groove back.

Too many parents don't understand why their kid doesn't throw a ball or kick a ball with 100% accuracy 100% of the time. Well first, that's impossible and two, they are learning. Kinda like how your kid didn't learn algebra in one math class. It took a few years to really sink in. Mistakes are part of life, but more importantly it's how you respond to that. As a coach who has logged way to many hours at try outs, we expect them to make mistakes; we just want to see how they react to them. Did they hang their head or chase after the ball? I can teach the skill but I can't teach the heart.

Stop stressing about divisions and standings so much. If the goal is college ball, I have a secret to tell you so listen in. If you want a spot on a college team its yours for the taking. Hundreds of spots go unclaimed every year in women's athletics. I know girls who stopped playing for a good 2 years and got a spot on a college team. IT'S NOT THAT HARD, SO CHILL. I promise your child will figure it out and play at the college level if he or she wants to. Just see the forest through the trees on this one. Trust me, it will all work out. Your standings at age 13 will matter never. Most kids under age 10 have no clue the score during a game. Even when they are getting killed, they are happy to play.

The most dreaded  beloved time for a coach are try outs. Try outs bring out the best in every one. Parent's don't freak out their kids and coaches maintain status-quo stress free social lives during those weeks. (Laura, I'm sorry for the one time when your husband and I had to call each other 50 times on your weekend anniversary trip. It wasn't our fault I swear!!) I once counted the number of phone calls made in 72 hrs following try outs. Well, I stopped at 144 so I don't know the grand total..... but you get the point. If you get a phone call about a spot on the team don't think about it and call them back 4 hours later. Take it or leave it then and there. That coach has other people to call and if you don't want the spot some one else does. You are not God's gift the sport and you are replaceable. A note to parents; please, please let your child take this call. They need to hear the offer to be on the team just as much as the coach needs to hear the reaction of the excited kid. Those are some of the greatest moments when I get to call a player and make an offer for a spot on the team. This is a perk of the job so don't take it from us.

If you want to try out some where else, tell your coach. We won't take it personal just let us know so we can be prepared to fill your spot if we need to. Again, not God's gift the sport. not telling us is kinda like a break up over a text.  It's a life skill your little slugger needs any ways. They will one day need to turn in a notice at work and should know how to do so.

Don't try and tell us lies or stories either. We have heard them all and know what your are really saying. I'm sure "some parents on the sideline" were saying that. But go a head, tell me what you think hear.

A funny fact about kids, they think they have opinions, but they are really just yours. Your child inadvertently tells us everything you say about the team and our coaching. It's really quite comical some times. But go on with your dog and pony show.

Finally, trust your kid's coach. They more than likely played the sport for years and have been coaching for many more. They know the trends of each age group and how divisions and teams shake out at each level and age. If your coach is working in the here and now and getting a result, cool, but you may want to look through a few trees while you're in the winners circle. I see a lot of teams win in the early years and crumble at u-15 and u-16 because they lack a solid foundation but by golly they won state at age 12. That's what counts right??

I once had a player juggling a club team and middle school team one season. She aggravated a muscle (maybe her legs were tired??) in a club game so I told her to take the week off (this is where I see a forest) and Dad didn't see why she should couldn't play in a middle school game later that week. She ended up hurting herself more and missing more games. Glad my input matters never.

Despite the crazy ones, Some parents are fantastic and we as coaches love them. They feed us between/during tournament games, supply a cold beverage of all kinds when needed and let their kid be a kid. They don't talk shop with us and are just content with their kid doing what they love and learning to be a good person along the way. These ones see the forest and remind us why we coach.

A group of us coaches were once sent and e-mail by one of these parents (we don't get these often, so if you like a coach let them know) thanking us for what we had done not for her daughter's soccer career, but her character. You see she fought to make varsity as a freshman and worked her way to some playing time. She soon found herself taking the last penalty kick in a rivalry tie breaker, she hit the crossbar and it went wide. But when the ball didn't bounce her way she didn't melt down or have a fit. She was composed and full of class. That was what her mom was proud of in that moment. That her daughter knew how to work hard for something she wanted and when the wind didn't blow her way, she held her head high. That parent sees the forest.

So chill out about the kids and the sports and the winning and take in the bigger picture.You will miss this when it's gone so enjoy it.

I took an IQ test....

JUST KIDDING! However, I did buy Ikea furniture and put it together so same thing. About 12 or 13 years ago a lovely little shop called Ikea decided to call Atlanta it's home. There it has sat in all it's big blue box glory just of 16th street. Ikea I love you and I hate you. Once you find your way into the store the sensory overload sets in and the "Oh my gosh I need this" thoughts pop up. You just have to tell yourself that, no you don't need that entertainment center that works so well in a 400 sq. foot home. You don't need to remodel your entire kitchen. You also don't need all those containers for all your organizing pinterest board dreams. I talk about you later Swedish meatballs (so cheap and yummie!). If you go, to just go, you will buy more crap you don't need. So go with caution and mission.

My mission was a nightstand. I found my furniture and noted the Aisle and Bin number because that is just the IKEA way. Good luck in your mission that is the stock room at the end of you tour. It's kinda like gift shops on your way out of a museum or Disney ride that scream "Buy our crap and Give us your money!!!!!" If you're lucky your boxes are small enough and light enough to carry. Allowing you to not need the assistance of one of their carts which you can push around about as well you can help a drunk sorority girl walk in heels.

Because Ikea loves to save us some money, you get to assemble your furniture yourself. YAY!!!!!
  (still waiting on sarcasm font) Which brings me to the following:

1. The packaging with really nifty warning labels. I assume this is a universal symbol:




2. Next, you open the box and see all the pieces and I have flashback to my brother's transformers and their 50,000 parts. This is where you start to regret your decision to go the big blue.

3. Needing some zen,  you give yourself some positive self talk. You see the instructions and you kinda sorta remember what it looked like on the shelf in the store. anxiety is down, confidence is up.

4. Then you see this little guy in the manual. Is this the big blue spokesperson?? We will call him Sven as I assume he is Swedish. Is he telling me to get some screw drivers and call if I am missing some? Clearly the Swedish couldn't spare a few pennies on actually posting their help line number.

5. So you lay out all your parts and everything checks out and the anxiety continues to lower and you keep telling yourself "This can't be that hard" then you check the first step... no words. I'm a visual learner but OH MY GOSH! PLEASE, PLEEEEEASE charge me an extra dollar to get a few words printed in my instructions. I don't mind paying for this piece of information.

                                                         

6. Assemble you will because the thought of putting this back in its original packing is just to traumatic. Luckily they now idiot proof these things and put little arrows on important parts. Yes, you will need those arrows just accept it.

7. I would akin the Ikea furniture assemblage to a religious experience in that you might meet Jesus here. I encourage you to accept a prayer for wisdom and patience if this happens. I only managed to put one piece in upside down and refrained from any foul language. I think I passed the Ikea IQ test.

I'm told after child birth you kinda forget the pain and willingly have another. Ikea furniture is not like this my friend. I will not be buying any large more complex pieces of furniture. I will stick to simple shelves from now on. Here's my finished project. My brain is now tired. IQ test are hard.

On the eve of the last week of school.

4 alarm clocks. That is all that stands between me and the end of the school year. 4 long, slow going days. The to do list keeps growing and students keep showing up every day. There's lots to do and kids to keep occupied because let's face it, They're done as much as we are. So here are the letters I'd write in your yearbooks if I could...

Dear student who is dropped of at 7:05 EVERY MORNING,
      I love your curious mind. It's a wonderful thing at times. However the sun isn't up yet and I haven't had my coffee and you have already asked 6 questions. No, I don't know when the test on the book we are reading will be. There actually isn't going to be a test, we just needed a reason to keep you quiet for a bit. Sure, play on the computer just STOP WITH THE ASKING OF QUESTIONS.
   
To the student cleaning up spilled water,
        I know cotton balls were the first thing absorbent thing you saw, but that is a terrible solution to your problem. I can't help you with this life skill. Best of luck in middle school.

Dear little ones asking if we are going to have recess on field day,
      We've been outside playing for 4 hours, but sure, we will take recess too.

Dear Concerned Parent who's child has an 89,
        Thank you for the multiple e-mails regarding said 89. Grades are not done yet, but you can't know that because it's only the class blog and in the parent news letter. If you come to my class you'll see it written on the board too. I'd much rather talk to your child about said 89 as they need this life skill. I promise what ever grade your child earns will not keep them from getting in to college or even the magnet high school. He's 10.
 
Dear student who just asked what time lunch is,
        We eat lunch at 12:20. EVERY DAY for 176 days, but no, I do not know what time lunch is.        
To my less organized students,
        please, please go clean out your locker and back pack. I'm sure all your missing assignments you swore you did and turned in are in there. Just please clean it out, soon.

The end is near and I can't wait to do nothing with no one. Oh and maybe have the energy to go out on a Friday night.

Killing Weeds

Killing weeds is never fun. It may be cathartic if you've had a rough day, but no one jumps at the chance to weed the garden. It's just not pleasant. I recently found myself cleaning the yard and killing weeds with my trusty bottle of round up and like most mindless task, I found myself thinking about life while I sprayed roundup on what I hope were weeds.

You see the weeds in my yard are two and half years old. I know this because that's how long it's been since our yard received some serious love. The weeds were symbolic of our lives going through cancer and then grief. When you enter the world of life with cancer, your new normal does not involve yard work, or home repairs. It involves clinics, hospital stays, trying to not fall behind at work, and fast food. Then we lost our new normal life and entered the world of grief. Part grief and part exhaustion from the past year and half collided and the energy to do anything outside of the normal means to life, was just to overwhelming. For every weed, a new emotion.

You see when we first entered the world of cancer people were quick to help with out us asking. Food was delivered, a group showed up to finish some projects and clean the yard. We were and are thankful for this. It helped make the transition easier.  Then the rain fell and the garden grew. Yard work was never any where near the top of the to do list.

Grief is terribly isolating. However, if you go the other side of the world, you will find a group of women who smile the biggest smiles you have ever seen. These women are either widows or left by their husbands. Due to the culture and legal marriage age of 15 they have limited skills to earn a living and mouths to feed. These women have banded together and are supported by the community. They learn job skills as these women go through life together. Not because it's fun or church organized. They have to. To put food on the table and educate their children in hopes of a better future. If you are ever blessed to meet a group of these women I hope they rip your heart out in the best of ways. I have met these women and they are full of more life and love for the lord than any one I have ever met. In meeting them all I wanted to do was cry with an over whelming emotion I can explain, but I couldn't cry because soon a short 4 ft 5 woman with missing teeth grabbed me by the arm singing with the biggest smile on her face. Soon we were in the dancing circle singing and dancing. I couldn't cry, they were just too happy and I didn't want to rob them of this joy. These women in this community who had nothing, were so very happy. This is where happiness is in its purist form. Living life and supporting one another because it's what they must do to live. It wasn't about a monthly to do at the church or a biannual event. It wasn't way to feel like they had served the lord and filled up their Jesus tank.

I thought about these women and how great they have it. You see my family has been on the receiving end of these church groups and good deed quota feeling events. But here I am, killing weeds, while my yard has been cleaned up and repairs fixed, those weeds grew back because cancer and grief aren't a one time thing. They are a lifetime thing. While everyone is quick to help once or twice, few are willing to walk this path; for those few who have we are so very thankful.

While my dad was sick and in the months following a neighbor would push his lawn mower down the street to our house and cut our grass. He wouldn't ask or say "Call if you need anything". He just did. Friends that call and say "I'm a minute from your house and coming to visit"  Those are God's people. The small group of people who I would call my parents true friends, who showed up to clean and organize our garage with out motive. And this tiny group, even though my Dad no longer gets to join them on their Friday night Mexican dinners, my mom is always invited. Still a part of the group.

I am often asked "Hey, how's your mom?". I have decided I will no longer answer this question. I am not her and I can not tell you how she is doing. If you want to know, call her, message her, stop by the house and find out for yourself. I once had a fortune cookie tell me "Joy shared is doubled, sorrow shared is halved". This cannot be more true.

This phase of life has taught me to help other with out asking and to listen when a friend needs to talk.

In short, if you find yourself wanting the share God's love with some one in need, be prepared to pull up the weeds when they regrow.

Candy and Standardized testing

Here's to you bag of Easter chocolates on sale,
        I bought you as a reward for my students weathering the spring storm of standardized test. You seem like such a small offering for the torture their minds go through. I'd take them all to sky zone to jump, but I'm a teacher and that's just out of my pay grade. So clearance sale candy it will be. My small offering to my little troop of 5th graders.

 I don't know what I would do with out you recess cups and cadbury eggs. I justify the calories I consume with the 2 miles we pace in the room while the kids test. I really did buy you for the kids. When the silence and white walls start to get me, your chocolate and peanut butter yumminess are there for me. You're all I have. Devoid of human interaction and conversations.

 I know peppermints "help the do well" and I enjoy a nice peppermint on occasion, but this a job for chocolate. When I am on my second group of kids for the day and hour number 4, you are still there.... for the kids of course. When I eat my lunch walking down the hall between rounds of testing and only get to eat half of it, you're there waiting for me. When my blood sugar flat lines from doing nothing for hours on end, you are there with your colorful packaging, and you mini cadury eggs are just the thing to spike the blood sugar. You really help the kids wake up and recharge on those 10 minute breaks they get. Thanks for getting us through this testing season, you were really there in those moments of despair.... for the kids.