Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Speaking Out

“I’ve been playing soccer for 15 years and it’s been a huge part of my life, so realizing that I’ve played in my last home game was definitely difficult for me to handle,” Peek said. “But it was a celebration as well. I had my family, friends and teammates there to support me and celebrate with me, so it was a sad but great day.” -Augustana Mirror, Nov. 6, 2009

“I was going to play soccer in college – that was my goal,” Peek said.

Peek’s family came from Fort Collins, Colo. for her last game. “My mom is a soccer mom, by all means, so having her and my dad see me play for the last time was a struggle for everyone,” Peek said.

As she says this, the emotion of the situation can be heard in her voice. She’s struggling to explain how she feels about the end of the soccer season because she just hasn’t dealt with it yet – the words aren’t there. -Augustana Mirror, Nov. 20, 2009

Four weeks ago a huge chapter of my life ended.

I have been asked by numerous people – family, friends, journalists – within these past few weeks to describe the feeling; to express my emotions; to “paint a picture” for others to understand how I feel about being done playing competitive soccer.
Every time I try explaining the feeling, the words never come out right; I struggle to truly express how I feel because honestly, I don’t know how to describe the feeling.

Soccer isn’t just a huge part of my life it is my life. No one forced it on me – I was not one of those kids that had their parents dictate everything for them and constantly force them into various extracurricular activities. I played because I love it. I am obsessed with the game.

The struggles and life-changing events I have faced to get to this place in my life today are incredible. And I didn’t even realize the true impact the game has had on me until my parents gave me a five pound scrapbook over-filled with memories of my journey.

Sitting in between my parents on the couch, the tears began to fall as I flipped through the memories.

From day one I had the mind-set of a forward. I had the confidence, the drive and the desire to score and assist. I had Mia Hamm posters plastered to my bedroom walls and I dreamed of playing for the UNC Tar Heels. I spent hours in the backyard, outside of practices, juggling and perfecting my rainbow kick. I learned how to bend a ball and constantly practiced so I, too, could be known for my corner kicks and free kicks like David Beckham. (Yes, he does have skill besides just being a gorgeous Englishman).

I traveled across the nation and the world:

I played in Washington, D.C. and toured our nation’s capital.

I played in California and Florida where I saw both the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans for the first time.

From the high elevation of the Rocky Mountains to the hot, dry desert in the south, I played in an array of weather conditions.

I went across seas and guest-played in a tournament with a Connecticut team in Germany when I was sixteen.

I played on the Colorado Olympic Development Program (ODP)state team and had the incredible privilege of making it to the ODP Region IV Camp in Idaho, where I got the opportunity to try out for the western regional team.

I played intercollegiate soccer.

This is in no way me trying to brag about my accomplishments – it is a reflection; it is what helps me continually try to describe the feelings of being done with such a huge part of my life.

The last game of my career, my team lost in double-overtime in the pouring rain in Duluth, Minn. When that final whistle blew I walked out to the middle of the field and broke down. I was completely by myself, soaking wet, freezing and crying on the field.

I don’t remember how long I was out there, but it wasn’t until my coach came over by me that I realized my teammates had taken off their gear, cleared the field and went to shower before the long seven hour bus ride home. Frustrated and helpless, my coach looked at me and said the same thing he has said since the day he recruited me – “You’re a good woman.”

If it weren’t obvious already by my reaction, I am an emotional person – so the loved ones in my life had been preparing themselves all season long for emotional outbreaks, endless tears and constant reassurance that “it’s going to be okay.” But no one was prepared for how I actually responded.

I stopped crying as soon as I left the field. I didn’t speak.

I showered and got on the bus without talking to anyone. My phone had missed calls and text messages from family and friends assuring me that they were available to talk whenever I was ready.

iPod blasting in my ears, I sat on the bus in silence for four hours before I decided to pick up my frantically distressed phone.

I apologized for being M.I.A. and then the inevitable question that I have been asked constantly since that day four weeks ago – “How do you feel?”

A quick and easy breakdown of the past four weeks – I repressed my feelings, I tried to explain them and I took unexpected and unnecessary anger out on the people I care about the most. And then I created a new outlook.

I have discovered that I am not going to be able to express how I truly feel about the end of part of my life, but I have also learned that I cannot stifle those feelings. When it comes to the overall outlook on life, I have been known to constantly be positive. So I got out of my wallowing pity party and stopped taking suppressed, sudden anger out on people and turned it into a positive.

I loved playing soccer. I made incredible connections, saw incredible things and created unforgettable relationships, but all I can do from here is move forward – take what I have learned, embrace it and turn it into more, new positives.

Soccer will forever be a part of my life and I know I don’t have to stop playing – and I don’t intend to – but a serious chapter of my life has been completed. But from here I can focus on the next chapter of my life – whatever it may hold.



**Note: some links will direct you to soccer tournaments in places discussed, NOT info about the state or place itself.

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