Without A Voice (Based On A True Story)

Validation

My best friend on the team (and in the school) was Kevin, the starting goalkeeper. We were in the same grade and we just connected. Also, being fellow defenders we grew to be close friends. I told Kevin how I contemplated giving up soccer after the situation at the game. He could empathize with my plight and gave me some sound advice: give it a week and make a decision. I took his advice and let the emotions run its course. However, I wasn't going to get the opportunity to think.

At a school like Faraday, word spreads quickly around the campus. I walked into Coach Jeff's classroom during lunch, like normal; the entire soccer team would meet in his classroom to watch old soccer matches and eat. But today, Coach Jeff asked me to eat lunch with him at his desk. I was nervous about what he had to say, but I knew what was going on.

"James, I heard you don't want to play soccer anymore." He began. I just nodded, too depressed to answer. "Look, I'm so sorry I didn't play you last night. I messed up and forgot to play you. It wasn't anything you did; I know I got mad at you during the game. That's not why I didn't play you. I hope you can forgive me. And if that's the reason you're leaving, then I feel horrible for messing up and hope you reconsider playing again." He spoke with such passion and conviction. I could see the regret in his face. He acknowledged he made a mistake and sincerely apologized. 

"Yeah, Coach." I said. "If I can be honest, I was very hurt that I didn't play last night. I did think that I upset you when I shouted instructions when I shouldn't have. But now, I feel like that I won't ever be good enough to play on the team. I didn't play in a game that everyone played in. That's a tough fact to accept." He looked at me with immense regret. "I don't mean to make you feel bad. You are the coach; you are the one in charge. I don't know if I will quit or not. I'm going to give it some time to think about it, taking emotions out of it."

"I see. Well, I am sorry that I hurt you this badly. I want you to know that you are an amazing player. I messed up and I am extremely sorry for forgetting about you. I hope you make the right choice for you." I stood up, shook his hand and walked out of the class. 

I didn't expect these series of events to happened. I wasn't expecting Coach Jeff to validate my skills worthy of the field. I was thoroughly confused at that point. I felt the assurance from Coach that I was good enough, but I was fearful of history repeating. What if I go back and I end up sitting on the bench again? What if I get forgotten? I needed to really consider my options.

Throughout the week, I haven't eaten lunch in Coach Jeff's class. I wanted to see if my life had meaning outside of soccer. I explored different clubs, organizations, and sports. I checked out the Robotics Club, Track and Field, and other groups. I couldn't find anything that really peaked my interest, so I was back at square one.

My teammates would bump into me and ask how I was doing. I didn't bring up the reason why I haven't been in Coach Jeff's class for the past week. They apparently heard about my contemplation and tried to convince me to stay. I appreciated their efforts, but I knew that I had to come to the decision on my own. They threatened to quit if I left the team, but I couldn't do that to Coach Jeff.

"Look," I would say to them, "I appreciate what you're doing. But Coach Jeff is a great guy and a great coach. If I leave, that is my choice. Don't let me affect your soccer future. You all are great players; don't mess it up because of me." I didn't know if my words got to through to them, but I had hope the situation would resolve itself and we could all move on. 

Time was up. It was decision-making day. It was also the last day to return our jerseys to Coach Jeff; we weren't allowed to keep the jerseys because they belonged to the school. I was nervous and second-guessing myself. Am I making the right choice? What if I make the wrong choice? I ran the scenarios in my head millions of time, and reassured my selection.

"Hey, Coach." I greeted. Coach Jeff welcomed me with a smile.

"Hey, stranger." He joked. "Long time, no see. How's it going?"

"Good, thanks. How are you?"

"Good, man. So what's up?" I handed the plastic bag with my jersey to him. "Oh. Thanks, James."

"I also want to talk to you about something." His eyes widened. He pulled a chair out for me to sit. "I have been thinking about continuing soccer and I've decided to play next year." His eye lit up.

"That's great, man. I'm glad you're coming back next year."

"And, I forgive you for what happened at the game. It was hurtful, but an innocent mistake. I hope there are no hard feelings between us." I extended my hand to him in friendship. He quickly shook my hand.

"Of course not. We're okay." We both smiled at each other. "Now that that's out of the way, is there anything else I can help you with?" 

"Nope. Nothing comes to mind. Thanks, Coach." I stood up and walked out the door. I felt like a thousand pounds fell off my shoulder. I held my head up higher, more confident. I got the validation I have been looking for my entire life. The bitterness in my soul suddenly felt negligible. I guess you could say that I was...happy.