A history of the "soccer" part of the soccerfarm...

Allow me to let you get to know me better. Not well enough to stalk me. But well enough to know why I might name my site the way I did. Soccer saved me. Soccer showed me where I might find happiness. Not immediately, mind you. But in its own subtle way, it led me to my own personal salvation. Let me explain...

YOUTH SOCCER

When I was school-age, I was tall, skinny & shy. Not athletic with a regular build, but undersized and awkward. My best defense was an equally awkward sense of humor and fast feet. So, I survived any possible beatings I might have received due to my speed. No shame in that. When I was in 3rd grade, I asked my mother to sign me up for soccer. Not because I thought I might be good at it, but because everyone else signed up and I hadn't yet. Honestly, what was I going to do after school while everyone else was at soccer practice. Right?

Well, my speed was discovered almost instantly, so I was placed in the "wing" position so I could outrun my opponents while all of my friends who had a little bit of natural skill were placed in "central" positions. She forgot to teach us alot. Like that whole passing thing for starters. The ball came to me close to never. When I did get the ball, it was just short of a disaster. I had no ball control because I was faster than the ball; I always had a bad first touch off the ball and I was mauled near the sidelines, so I just kicked it out. After that, I became the kid no one would pass to. After an entire season of useless practices and horrified games, I was done. That was my first season of soccer. Use your imagination how fast I was willing to sign up again. You guessed it. Many, many years.

My next experience was my sophomore year in high school. Amazingly, I was able to make the JV squad. It was amazing. I figured I fooled the coaches into thinking I was a good soccer player by just running down field. Coach wasn't as fooled as I thought. I played my first game as a defender. Not exactly a speed position. Coach was short defenders and no one else would volunteer. In the midst of trying to defuse an offensive assault late in my first game, I went to head the ball out of the box off a deflection from the keeper while he was down. As my head hit the ball, it felt like I was suddenly heading a medicine ball. An opposing striker was going for the fancy "bicycle" shot to finish the offensive series. Imagine the foot-ball-face sandwich. Eww is about right. Long story short, this game would be the last in my record short scholastic career.

SOCCER WAS STILL CALLING ME

Why, do you ask? Not quite sure. I mean, the sport had made it's imprint on me in more ways than one. Well, I was a senior now and life was getting kind of boring. My high school graduation requirements were all but done and I decided I needed to take a new lease on this whole soccer "thing" and try coaching on for size at age 17 . My little brother's team needed a coach for the same parks & recreation department I played for when I failed. I mean, played. This was my chance to redeem myself for being a goof of the sport.

I studied the sport from any media resource and experience I could get my hands on. I ended up tasting just enough success through that experience that I kept coming back for more, and more, and more. I went from volunteer coaching one team in a po-dunk (ever think you would see that word in print?) little GI town to coaching other coaches and players now as an academy instructor for my little town in Kansas. It gets better. They now pay me to do something I have been willing to do for free for the last 12 years. Pretty sweet deal, you say? OH yeah...