Somebody (part) That I Used To Know

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Tribute Speech for Janet

Yesterday at the wake, I heard someone say “are all these people are here for Janet” I’m sorry I don’t remember who asked, but I thought to myself, of course they are.

You see, when you give so much of yourself to so many people, it’s a simple decision to go pay your respects. Everyone who was there yesterday, everyone who is here today has been touched in some way by this incredible woman.

Take Time To Think For Yourself

Throughout my youth playing career, I was superstitious and quirky, as my mom says.

My siblings thought I was crazy to be outside training as much as I was, watching VHS tapes of old World Cups, jumping at any chance to guest play for teams, unable to understand why I couldn’t find more people to play with (this would be the story of my life apparently).

One of the stranger habits I can remember was actually after games. My family always wanted to go out to eat. They had just sat through what usually was a long drive, a warmup and a full game and so they were hungry.

Breaking Lines

In the instant that the ball reaches a player’s feet, I’m desperately searching for a way to get it from them. It’s a vulnerable situation. I start shouting. And running toward them. I want what they have.

“Yes, yes, yes.”

The Difference Between Prizes and Points

As an adult, (a real one now) I see that we give young people a lot of mixed messages. I’m guilty of it myself.

We tell them to not waste opportunities. To take their goals and dreams seriously. We tell them to work hard and train more and be dedicated. We also tell them to rest, not overdo it, not over-train, to be kids and enjoy life.

At some point, the messages have to be confusing. Are we promoting balance? Or are we promoting being the best they can be in a given area? Is there a right or wrong thing to promote? Can you do both?

What Giving Players Freedom Really Means

In training the other day, one of our forwards checked to the ball with a defender on her back and instead of holding the ball up for her team, she tried to do a flick and lost the ball.

I sat there frozen with the devil on my right shoulder and an angel on my left.

The Thin White Line: What divides a coach from a player?

I’m in a unique position.

And I can see it very clearly every day how unique it is.

While on staff at Yale, the coaches gather after training and talk about the session. Their hands in their pockets, looking over at the players, it’s clear they have analysis and suggestions for one another.

The players are doing partner stretching as part of their cool down after training. They’re engrossed in conversations about everything and anything and don’t even acknowledge the coaches.

I watch from the bench as a member of some sort of purgatory world that many have lived in before, seeing both at the same time.

So, I just sit there and watch. Realizing that I don’t fully fit in either group (yet or anymore).

30 Years Later
30 Years Later

In the fall of 1989, a few months after the release of Batman (1989), a conspiracy began. I was 5 years old at the time and I didn’t know what the word conspiracy meant. But I do now. And I see it all very clearly.

The Alchemist made this easier to explain. “And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.” I have felt this for 30 years.

My parents put me in soccer when I was 5. I remember my first practice on a grass field in the back of a community college in North Haven, Conn.

The Secret to Being Rich

Back in December, I was grappling with the idea of continuing my career as a professional soccer player or retiring. I’m 35 years old, and “retire” is a word that means something very different than what it means for most people who throw it around.

Here’s a typical conversation I have with my knees:

“We’re going to do this again, okay?”

“No, we really don’t think it’s a good…”

“Okay, great, thanks for your input.”

When my former coach Brian Sørenson called me about playing for a club in Denmark this season, I had to really convince my knees it would be okay.

What's Next? Life After the United Soccer Coaches Convention

The first time I attended the (then) NSCAA Convention was way back in 2002. I was 18 years old and accepting an award for NSCAA High School All-American, a huge accomplishment in my short-lived life up until that point. 
The convention was in Philadelphia that year; it snowed like crazy the day of the awards banquet. I don’t remember much about it aside from accepting my award. My mom and grandparents came with me. They don’t remember it. 

I didn’t think much of the whole event at that time in my life. I thought it was just for giving out All-American awards (oops – living in my bubble). 

3 Places I Find Myself

Google says to start blog titles with a number. So, I did. Let me know if that got you to click.

Anyway.

Winter mornings in Connecticut can test you. If you can dodge the punch of the darkness at 6am and dip past the cold of being the first awake in the house, then you have a chance. I don’t have anywhere to be early in the am. I just work best between the hours of 6am and 12pm. After that, my productivity level is a crapshoot. 

This morning, I peeled the covers off my body, exposing myself to the air. My first thought was coffee, even though my first thought should have been bathroom. I always wonder how we as a human race can forget that we have to pee and then are surprised when we forget anything else.

Since tearing my ACL and meniscus, I've been really torn (punning) when it comes to topics of conversations. On the one hand, all I want to talk about is my knee. That's all I think about right now, so naturally it's all I want to talk about. But then I start talking about it, get frustrated and don't want to talk about it anymore... until I want to talk about it again. My friends and family, bless their hearts, are some of the best people around. They've been really awesome when it comes to talking about what I want to talk about, and that makes things a lot easier. I kind of expected that. It's like getting cheated on. And you don't want to know anything about the other girl. But you want to know everything about her.

What I didn't expect was how easy it would be to talk about it with so many people that have been through it. It's like a gang. Like, I had no idea. A good gang though. With gang lingo and an understanding that outsiders (me last month) don't know anything about. They don't steal or kill. I am currently just in my 100 level classes. Like learning the anatomy and trying to keep my stomach during discussions. Let's put it this way, I liked my knee better when I didn't really know it that well.

Now that I have some lingo down and I've been ushered into the gang (thank you to all members, you've been incredible) I'm starting to get a sense of this journey.

Here's what I got so far...

I suck on crutches. (better on crutches than riding a bike though)

I'm not always good at asking for help. Except when it's stuff I don't normally want to do. (I just hate washing dishes, sorry)

I've come to basically stalking my own team and sending them love notes. <3

My brain is over-processing every single thing.

And the worst one so far.

Call it what you will, but every single night before I go to sleep I have a little of what seems like anxiety. "Did I forget to do something on my list today?" "Did so and so take their birthday off of Facebook?" Is someone standing outside my door? If so, do they have snacks? JK "What drills should I do with my players?" "Should I be running more?" You get the idea. I have a million thoughts.

There's only one way to clear my mind before bed. I visualize myself doing the most magical stuff with the ball. Chipping goalkeepers from half field. Nutmegs on nutmegs. Breakaway rainbows. Everything. And I can see them in slow motion and with the roar of the crowd and all the celebrations I never think to do after I score.

Falling asleep is usually really easy for me because I taught myself to do this. It took a long time. But it has made a huge difference in my life.

Unfortunately, now, when I go to visualize, all I see is my knee giving out. I see fall after fall after fall. And it brings me straight to tears. I'm frustrated I can't get that image out of my head and I'm terrified that when I step on the field again that's what it will be like.

I know that to get out of my 100 level classes, I'll have to get past this point. And obviously, it's really early on and this process isn't an easy one, or else they would probably call it --a party. Or something.

Regardless, there's a part of me that enjoys the challenge. I probably wouldn't have picked this one necessarily (I'm more of a bowling kind of girl) but hey, I'm taking what's been graciously placed on my lap. Here's to taking baby steps until I die. (Thanks Carmelina) Because I won't be broad jumping to the finish line (like literally right now) I'll have to take it slow, process it well and be much much stronger than I've ever had to be in the past.

If this was a bit too emotional, read this funny interview I did. K. Thanks.

50 Things Soccer Has Done For MeTiffany Weimer5 Comments