Soccer Wife

You should know that Tyler is a dynamite soccer player. Second-team, all-state and all. His handling with the ball is something I’ve admired since we started dating. He’s a leading scorer and quick as lightning. It’s so fun to watch. 

But, did you also know that I play soccer? Oh, you didn’t? That’s because I do not. Not even a little. So, when Tyler told me about his dream of having a Gibb family soccer team, I got that ball in the back of my throat that makes it hard to breath. I didn’t want him to see it. But I was panicked.

In the end I knew what I needed to do. He wanted this. And I wanted him to have it.

I cannot tell you how much fear I had to get over. It was a lot. You would think with a 6-5 basketball star for a father, I would have inherited some amount of skill and grace. Not the case. I played softball quite well, I can do other things just fine. But my feet. Ugh. They’ve given me grief. At times in my life (particularly the awkward stages between 11-16), my feet struggled to keep me upright. It was a rough time and left a few scars and fears of public humiliation that I’m not quite over apparently.

So, this next part might come as a shocker. I kind of like soccer. Oh, I’m still not very good. But I’ve learned to stand in front of the man (or woman) with the ball and try not to let them pass. I’ve also learned that I really love my husband (and not just because he’s a stellar athlete). I’ll do anything for him, because he’d never ask me to do something that’s going to hurt me. Soccer’s fun. It’s something new. I’ve broadened my horizons and taken on my fears and a couple men twice my size. All’s fair and the memory of the Gibbie soccer team is a good one.