As the final season of my high school soccer career comes to an end, I am often finding myself thinking of the parts of it I miss the most, already. I remember chugging my water at freshman year tryouts, shocked with the intensity, that I was never introduced to during my years of competitive club soccer and the other three teams I played for prior to high school. Freshman year, our team qualified for the state tournament for the first time in 5 years, we played a preliminary game then lost. After playing my first intimidating season on Varsity, it was already sophomore year pre-season. I sat there thinking about how I was halfway through my four years, I would never have to condition this much again, I only had two years left. I couldn't wait to lay in my bed blasting my A/C. That season, we qualified for a BYE for the preliminary round, and immediately competed in the first round of play, falling to Franklin High School thus ending our season.
Another successful season had passed, and it was already junior year. Soccer has always been a very big part of my life and by the end of my junior year tryouts I had wanted to quit. I didn't realize that the only reason my coaches were pushing me so hard was because they saw potential - they cared about me and wanted me to work hard. My junior year, our team had come so far. For one of the first few times ever, we qualified for first round and won. Our win over New Bedford High School sent us to the quarter-finals where we were supposed to face Silver Lake on our home field. We had wanted that all season - my last two seasons - to play on our home field and have a crowd noisier than anyone. Unfortunately, that day's weather promised us otherwise, and we played on a neutral-town turf field at Taunton High School because our field had become a sponge for mother nature.
We won again.
We advanced to the semi-finals of the state tournament - something we had never done before, even in school history. Once again, we encountered Franklin High School, and once again, they terminated our season.
It was soon to be my senior season. The year to prove and redeem myself, wrap up the last three years in just 18-plus games. I was elected Captain along with one of my closest friends. It was no longer "our" team, but it was also "my" team. On August 25th, pre-season began. At 8 a.m. on the track to warm up with the annually dreaded mile and a half in under eleven and a half minutes, my last chance was thrown at my face. All through tryouts, myself, my co-captain, and my other teammates who are also my best friends, spent countless hours together even after exhausting practices, having fun and making new inside jokes. This year, we knew it would be a building year after losing 10 or 11 members of our "family" to graduation. We also knew we had to play as hard as we could, allowing us to qualify for the tournament yet another year. All season we worked hard and long, we overcame adversity such as losing some key players to serious injuries early on, and on our senior night we earned two more points to secure our seed in the tournament. For myself and fellow seniors, it was something magical knowing that we were the first class in school history to make the tournament 4 years in a row. It was a sense of accomplishment. The next record we also broke was putting ourself in a seed that earned us a home game once again. For the first time ever, a tournament game was played against Natick High School on that field, and we came out on top with a double-overtime win. We were then paired against Marshfield, one of our most difficult rivals who we beat in the season-opener then lost to the second time. This wasn't just another hard tournament game, but revenge for the last four years against a team who has always taken the lead in the win column. Their boys team had just beat our boys team in their first ever tournament game, and we wanted to CRUSH them. All game we had worked for the win, every player put all they could into the game, and left their hearts on the field even after Marshfield tucked away a goal to take the lead.
In the blow of a whistle, my senior year high school soccer season was over.
The last 4 years, I had wanted so bad to never have to run and sprint through pre-season again, but now that it's over, I would take it all back. I would sprint 12 goalposts just for the sake of the season not being over. All season, our motto was "no regrets". I have no regrets, but I am regretful. I want to keep practicing, I want to hear my coach one last time yell "Get on the end-line! We're running!" I know the first paragraph still hasn't made any sense yet, and you may have forgotten about what it says already, but the best part about being a part of my team was that we took things too far. Whenever someone said something, we would go on making fun of them for something they said ten minutes ago. When one person began to say "That awkward moment..", we would branch off thousands of different awkward moments. My team became a solid part of my daily routine, and now that it's over I feel empty or incomplete. The awkward moments, having practice everyday, the running, the yelling, all the good times, and all the bad times are the traits we carry. I know no matter the season ending, we will always have that bond and we will always live on even if we do not still play together. The next chapter is beginning and the next four years of my future are starting to fall into place. I still wonder if I'll miss it this much once my college soccer career is over.
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