I would always love to be an athlete, but it's got to be a tough day when you have to hang up those cleats.
Soccer is what I grew up doing - it's my passion, and I'm way more comfortable on the field in my soccer cleats.
Comfort is key. I need to make sure the cleat first my foot perfectly. Weight is important, too.
Under that light rain, beaming in the night game, can't stop now, keep moving, no brake pads. Came here to prove a point, live my life on the field, make history in between the base paths. And compete against the fear that is in me, that's my only barrier and I swear I'm going to break that. From the mud, the cleats that we dragged through the feet, this is that moment and you cannot take it back... This is what you make of it, yeah we play to win, live it like we're under the lights of the stadium. Fight, until the day that God decides to wave us in, right, until he waves us in.
Conscience warns us not to sink our cleats too deeply in mortal turf, which is so dangerously artificial.
I already believe I am the best linebacker in the game. Now, I have to show one more thing ? that I am the most dominating, influential person in the game and the best football player to ever put on a pair of cleats.
We're looking forward to a great season at the University of California - if we find a way to put cleats on their sandals.
Without defeats, how do you really know who the hell you are? If you never had to stand up to something - to get up, to be knocked down, and to get up again - life can walk over you wearing football cleats. But each time you do get up, you're bigger, taller, finer, more beautiful, more kind, more understanding, more loving. Each time you get up, you're more inclusive. More people can stand under your umbrella.
It's not fear of striking out that makes me reluctant to step up to the plate. It's the fear of getting hit in the head by a 90 mph fastball, the pitcher coming off of the mound to stomp me with her cleats while I am down, the rest of the opposing team rushing out of the dugout hurling insults as they kick me and spit on me, while all along the crowd in the stands is cheering them on and laughing at my failure. So, no, it's not the fear of striking out that keeps me from stepping up to the plate.
By the time the children go to bed, I am as drained as any mother who has spent her day working, car pooling, building Lego castles and shopping for the precisely correct soccer cleat.
If you can't get an intro to a VC, hang up your cleats now. You're done, GAME OVER
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