It might sound like an exaggeration, but yes, the sport of soccer changed my life. Not saying it was for better or for worse, but the impact the beautiful game has had on me as a person is one I should explain.
I grew up in a household where sports weren't the main focus. My parents emigrated from Mexico for a better life and I just happened to be born here in the United States. I remember the times that we struggled, the times we couldn't quite get the things we wanted. I know this is common and far from unique to myself, but at the time, I thought I could do something about it.
Being the only son with three sisters, there was a subconscious obligation for me to one day become a man and fulfill my duty of being responsible for a household. Maybe this one or maybe my own someday. Either way, that pressure still follows me to an extent today. That mentality is ingrained in Hispanic culture and society at large, despite the many problems it can produce.
I've always wanted to help my family. Having no aunts, uncles, cousins, or relatives living north of the border, all we had was each other. Two parents, four kids, the occasional dog or chicken, all on our little plot of 3.5 acres in Ferris, Texas. It was all we had over here.
We were lucky enough to be able to travel back to Mexico, usually once a year or twice a year, during winter and summer breaks if things were going okay. I'm glad we did because I still love and care for my family that lives on the other side.
Being a young Hispanic boy with way too much energy, I was drawn to sports. I was drawn to soccer. I don't remember what my first recreational team was called or how old I was exactly, what color jersey we wore, or what cleats I owned. I just knew that I loved this sport.
I played all over the field and in every position, as one does, as a young kid. Somehow found my way between the sticks and fell in love with being a goalkeeper. But I was short (I'm still short, at just 5-foot-6 or 167 centimeters) and I was often told that my energy was better used elsewhere on the field. I do remember my pair of first goalkeeper gloves. They were a pair of slime green and black Adidas training gloves that a friend let me use during a recreational season. He ended up letting me keep them afterward, and from there I was hooked.
I started digesting everything possible for goalkeepers, from articles to videos to newer and better goalie gloves. The first pair of gloves that I bought myself were some Voit-branded black and gold from a shop in Mexico, bringing them back over and using them to play over here.
Thinking I had what it took to make it pro, I began spending hours outside, playing, practicing, and improving my technique. I actually became pretty good for my height. I thought I was on my way to the next step.
You can probably see where this is going. I was young and naive about many things. In my mind, this was my - and my family's - way out of what I thought was a poor situation. I was going into high school thinking this is where I'll get recruited by a team and make my way to become pro. I didn't know until much later that I needed to be in a development academy or play competitive soccer via a so-called "select" or "classic" team, those associated with a club.
But at the time, I still had hope that I could break that barrier and prove everyone wrong. I made my way to the varsity team and was poised to be a starter by my sophomore year.
But players older than me put me down and I was dropped back down to the junior varsity squad. I eventually did start my junior year and excelled. That carried on into my senior year and we made the deepest playoff run in recent school history by any sport. (Ferris is a nice little town but an athletic powerhouse it's not. It has a single state title from the 1994 boys' basketball team).
Ultimately, we fell short. It was the bus ride home from that playoff run when reality hit me. This was it. This was the furthest I would ever reach. I wouldn't get recruited by a college or club scout. I wouldn't play at the next level.
In hindsight, it's just the reality of life, but as a teenager, it felt like the end of the world. My illusions had crumbled, my dreams were slapped away by the ugly truth.
My parents, especially my dad kept trying to get me to cut off soccer at some point and figure out my life. He was blunt about it, but in a truthful way that makes sense now that I'm older. My mom would understand that I had a passion for it but would also always get mad at me for spending so much time reading things or watching things about soccer on the family desktop.
It took me a while to realize that I still had a the possibility of a future in the sport, just not in the way that I envisioned. I remember I was reading a Bleacher Report article on the best and worst Mexico World Cup jerseys of all time and thought how cool it would be to write something like this as a job. As a livelihood. An article about World Cup jerseys essentially kick-started my journalism career.
Well, kind of. I had noticed that I had been consuming soccer-related content for years by that point, but I never thought about it more than just something I enjoyed doing. From there, I went to community college then university then into the professional sports journalism industry. I've dipped my toes into the soccer-specific industry, but I'm still quite a ways away from making it in that circle. I'll be there eventually.
I don't shy away from my "failed" soccer career as a player. But I also don't broadcast it and become the prototypical "I could have made it as a pro if..." The truth is I never had a real shot, and that's a reality that many kids like me live in.
Lots of things and people in my life have forged me into who I am today: my family, my sisters, my amazing girlfriend of nearly six years, the drive to make it in this country and get my degree where so many others are discouraged from it or simply don't have the means to do so. My friends all throughout high school, college and university and all the instructors and advisors for which to list them all would make this post twice as long. To everyone who came into my life and made me who I am, thank you.
To the sport of soccer, thank you for helping me find my purpose in life and giving me something to reach for. To that, I owe it everything, and I will give it my everything.
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