Football and Friendship, what more does one need?

After reading my last post, it’s very possible, and even more so for those of you who don’t play soccer or have a direct connection with women’s soccer, you have been wondering why the heck does this girl care so much about soccer? Why does she get so excited about a sport that, even though it is the world’s most popular sport, at the end of the day is just a game?

I could tell you it’s because of the competition, the adrenaline pulsing through my veins when I make my way onto the field, shake hands with the opponent and wait anxiously for the referee’s whistle to signal the beginning of the match, the emotion which takes over after a spectacular save which leaves the opposing fans in silence after they had started to cheer just a second too soon, the feeling of pure joy after winning a championship, a clásico, a hard fought game. I could tell you it's because of the life lessons soccer offers such as hard work, dedication, healthy lifestyle, punctuality, patience, and sacrifice. I could even tell you it's because of the recognition which comes with being a female athlete, but then you'd really realize I would be lying.

I'm not saying that those are not valid motives, nor that they do not contribute significantly to my love for soccer, but none of them is the main reason—I recognize that love often cannot be explained by reason, but sometimes it can, as in this case. If my love for soccer was for any, or even all, of the reasons listed above, I would have stopped playing years ago; I might not have even finished playing out my four years of college eligibility. No, if it was for any of those reasons, I would definitely not be writing this blog, living in Argentina, and playing at River Plate; I would most likely be in medical school somewhere in the US, which my parents might have preferred, but that's another story... Anyway, why am I saying all this?

This past weekend, my best friend came to visit me, another player who, like me, is not yet ready to hang up her cleats and leave the game behind. We met at my first college, the University of South Florida, where I studied and played for two years before transferring to Rice University (no it's not named after the food...). We weren't close friends from the start; it took a little while for us to realize we had a lot in common: our faith, our way of thinking, goals, values, sense of humor (okay, I would like to think that, but the reality is she's way funnier than I could ever hope to be), among many other things, but on the field, the situation was completely different. She was our starting defensive center midfielder, was named captain her freshman spring, and was a consistent figure for the team throughout her four seasons while I mainly maintained a marginal role, on the sidelines if you will, as the backup for our ridiculously athletically talented starting goalkeeper. Despite the differences in our college soccer careers, we became friends, and, since then, our friendship has continued to grow. I consider her my sister, a blessing from God, and we are united by an intimate bond which I'm sure will last a lifetime. 

Well, all this to say that, in my opinion, what makes soccer so special are the relationships which are born and cultivated through it. I use my best friend as an example but I could tell you countless stories of other footballing friendships and relationships which have influenced and molded me in some way.

I remember goofing off with my high school soccer teammates at practice and on road trips, hanging out with my sister who was also on the team and realizing she was actually not as dorky as I had imagined but really one of the wittiest girls I've even known (don't get too cocky while reading this, Vanessa...).

I remember how at Rice, despite having a miserable soccer career and experience—easily the worst two years of soccer of my life—I met friends, professors, and mentors who inspired, challenged, and loved me and continue to do so today.

I vividly remember taking off from the international airport in Buenos Aires in 2011, leaving behind my second time training with the Argentine Women's National Team. I can picture the scene exactly, looking out the window at the endless city lights illuminating the pitch black with tears rolling down my cheeks, not because of the disappointment of not being able to continue training with the national team due to complications and delays in the citizenship process but because of the pain of leaving the girls behind, especially not knowing when, or if, I'd see them again (now there are a few I see too often at River... I'm just kidding, I love them and they are a huge blessing in my life).

Even more recently, it's impossible not to mention the support my teammates at River have given me since my injury through messages, hugs, and a even huge banner held before the first match I had to miss. I know I can count on them through the whole rehabilitation process until I'm back on the field. They're my millonaria sisters ("millonario" is a nickname for players and fans of River).

It's moments like these which come to my mind when I think about soccer, even more so than images of games won or lost, than the fleeting feelings of frustration or joy, than memories of innumerable training sessions and matches. Friendships are the essence of soccer, and I thank God for having given me the opportunity to meet and learn from so many amazing people through this beautiful game.

Missing my teammates, can't wait to celebrate with them on the field again soon! (photo credit: Guillermo Larroquette)