My oldest son left for college today. So what am I feeling? I liken it to the pit-of-the-stomach ache, which I’ve felt on the sidelines so many times, watching my son don his goalie gloves and take his position on the field in front of the net.
Even though we’ve walked the college move-in path before, my husband and I are realizing that there are some differences between this college move-in day and that of our oldest daughter. From the time he was mobile, we knew that raising our son would take us down different path, so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the cusp of his adulthood has shaken us as much as his childhood exhausted us. In one seven-week period during his pre-teen years, his escapades landed him in the emergency room three times. I joked that we should just leave his hospital bracelet on a hook inside the door and pick it up on our way in the next time! One of the joys and horrors of watching him grow up was his physical aggressiveness and fearlessness. Climbing, jumping, catapulting, kicking, skating. Nothing was off limits. We watched this with equal parts admiration and panic, and decided early on to provide outlets for the adrenaline and risk-taking urge that obviously wasn’t going away. Don’t fight it, we reasoned. Use it! And use it he did.
A black belt in Tae Kwon Do before he was eleven years old. One of the youngest “regulars” at our local skate park. And, in the last few years, a few adventures that have landed him in some trouble, yet thankfully have not resulted in him (or anyone else) getting hurt. These things have caused us to shake our heads, regroup and rethink our parenting, and pray like we’ve never prayed before. And although tiring and sometimes discouraging, none of those things are enough to outweigh the wonderfulness of having a boy whose impish grin brings us so much joy and whose fearless individualism bring us such pride.
All things considered, though, some of my favorite moments have been at the soccer field, watching him play goalkeeper for the majority of his fourteen years as a soccer player. The goalie mom universe is a mysterious one that is to be entered with moxie and teflon-like sideline posture. From the first time I saw the glee in his eyes as he faced down an offensive player racing toward him to the moment I saw him take off his goalie gloves for the final time as his high school team was defeated in the second round of the state playoffs, I walked a tightrope of nerves that only goalie moms can truly understand. However, as I’ve had some time to reflect, I’ve observed perhaps some of these goalie mom lessons can also apply to life outside of the soccer pitch.
FIVE THINGS I LEARNED BEING A GOALIE MOM
1 – Your reach is only as good as your stretch.
When you are the player standing there in the goal, there’s a lot of room for the opponent to get past, and your body is only so wide. Learning to anticipate so you know which way to move and stretch is an instinctive skill that goalies are usually born with, to a degree, but which must continue to be honed.
In life, we must learn to adjust to what life throws at us and somehow learn to stretch ourselves (physically, emotionally, mentally) further than we ever thought possible.
2 – Aloneness and stillness will come and go, and is something to be thankful for.
At times, the action in the game is all on the other end of the field and you feel somewhat alone down in the goal by yourself. If you are the type to wander far out of the goal (as my son was, to many coaches’ chagrin…), then you can sometimes get a bit closer to the action, but you still can’t really join in. You are watching the game, but there’s nothing you can do. Sometimes the helplessness is overwhelming, and sometimes the disconnectedness is a relief. Either way, it’s only temporary, and in a split second, the game may turn and offensive players will all of a sudden be upon you, hopefully with your teammates nearby to help defend the goal. Adrenaline pumping, you realize that the moments you had to catch your breath were crucial, but they are over and you must get your head – and the rest of you – fully in the game.
Similarly, we all must realize that respite (and for some, aloneness) is necessary and when it doesn’t come often enough, we are spent and not much good to anyone.
3 – Accomplishments can be forgotten amid failure.
A goalie often makes countless saves per game, stopping the ball from getting near or in the goal. However, those saves are often forgotten by spectators, or even your teammates, when you make a mistake and the opposing team scores a goal. Your shortcomings as a player are excruciatingly visible, and even when the ball shouldn’t even have come close to the goal and others made mistakes as well, the spotlight is on you when the ball gets through and the other team scores.
In the non-soccer world, this kind of overlooking happens, too. Competence is sometimes unnoticed, or even punished, as others just assume you will keep doing what you do well and sometimes slow down or don’t do their jobs because they know you will step up and get the ball. However, when you mess up (as we all do), your mistake is highlighted, sometimes unforgiven, and can cause others to believe that you don’t even need to be in the game. Despite that unfairness, though, we have to still continue to do what we do with excellence and consistency.
4- Life hurts sometimes.
Being the last line of defense requires a lot of sacrifice. Sometimes that sacrifice is painful or even humiliating. Getting kicked in the face is a regular occurrence. Run-ins with other players, the goalposts, and the turf are just part of the gig. It takes a lot of guts to be a goalie. You have to be fearless.
Someone has to be there and if you have the personality and tenacity to do it, then you are the person for the job. Sometimes other positions may seem more glamorous, but goalies know they are where they are supposed to be and they love what they do. (And yes, sometimes they can be arrogant.) When the pressure is on, a good goalie sometimes even coaches a bit from the goal and keeps his teammates motivated (even when they’d rather him just be quiet!).
Living in this world is not without pain. Sometimes we just lie on the metaphorical ground and get stepped on by those who have no idea how much we’ve sacrificed. Sometimes we know that’s just what has to be done. Sometimes someone gets too close and we collide midair, resulting in an injury. We didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt, but in the speed and hecticness of the moment, it happened. We are regretful and wish we could change things, but we know that we didn’t hurt the person intentionally and we hope and pray and do what we can do so that the hurt can be healed.
5 – Keep doing what you believe in and love to do, even when others don’t get it!
Whether your team wins the county championship, makes the state playoffs, or has a winless season, when you know you are meant to be a goalie, you are going to have fun, no matter what. Putting your whole heart – and body – into what you are doing and leaving everything on the field is a great feeling.
Real life is like this, too. Even when you know some don’t agree with things you’ve done, even when someone else gets the glory for your hard work and consistency, and even when you took everything into consideration and made the best decisions you could at the time yet still made mistakes, you can rest well when you’ve done what you know you are called and equipped to do. Failure is part of life. Some things we try, not knowing what the exact outcome will be, and those are the things that change us most dramatically.
Sometimes we lean toward one side of the goal, when we should have stayed in the middle.
Sometimes we come too far out of the goal and we can’t make it back in time to stop the ball from going in. Dang it.
For me, this dynamic includes a spiritual component of knowing that my status as a beloved daughter of God is not in jeopardy due to a foul called on me, the fact that I yelled in anger at my teammate, or even a mistake that cost my team the game or the championship. We are in the game of life for the long haul, not the short-term. Progress, not perfection.
Even though my son’s goalie career may be over, the lessons he – and I – learned are ones we can keep working on until the clock runs all the way out.
