I watched the USA women's soccer team make an incredible come back in the face of some awful calls by the refs and the clock working against them. Ten of them. Only ten b/c of a red card near the goal that shouldn't have been thrown.
A shoot out. A victory earned by working hard, believing in themselves, not giving up.
It made me goose bumpy to watch them celebrate.
In watching their win and jumping about the room high fiving Kim, I realized that I love team sports. I love the belongiing of it all. I love the comradary, the spirit. I love counting on other people and them counting on me. I love giving my all.
In this moment, this is when I discovered the reason why I was so devasted when Barb kicked me off of "her" team. That summer, all at the same time, was both the best and the worst of my life.
I was a team member. I was needed and counted on and supported while I wondered around wondering why Jessica and I hadn't worked.
Before the next season, Barb let me know in an email that I was not invited back.
Coward's way out.
I played and I played well, and I couldn't understand why Barb would kick me off. Her excuse just wasn't true. I had kept my batting average the entire season, and I had done well.
What I have learned from all of this is the difference between Barb and I is that I don't just play for myself, my glory, my agenda and Barb does.
Barb is not a team player.
I am a team player. I can't change that and now I know that I don't want to. It is one of the best things about me.
Come play with me, and I'm sure you will agree.
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