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As a sophomore at Blind Brook High School, I made it onto the girls varsity soccer team. My position since I have been ten years old has primarily been in the net as goal keeper. I was used to starting every game, getting the most amount of playing time and receiving the credit for a shutout or an overtime win. However, as a sophomore I had to get used to my nice, cozy, almost permanent seat on the bench. 

The starting keeper was a junior, only one year older than me. This meant that I probably would not get a chance to play until my own senior year. I understood that I was no longer the team’s best option for a last line of defense and I took my role as second string very seriously. 

I made it a point to never miss a practice and at each and every one, I worked as hard as I could. I put in hours with the senior keeper doing all kinds of drills and exercises and other activities that would build my strength, speed, reaction time, and ability to leap as high off of the ground as I could. I could see that I was getting better and that made all of the bleeding elbows and ‘turf-burn’ worth every second of my time. 

It was November and my team had made it to the second round of sectionals. We made the trip to a high school just north of us called Peekskill High School. This team had an amazing reputation on the field and we knew that we were going to have to work hard if we wanted to keep it a close game. 

Nora, our senior starting keeper, came out for a ball near the end of the game and collided with the Peekskill offender. Usually, the referee would call the foul on the offender because the golden rule when it comes to that area of the field is to protect the keeper. Instead, the referee decided to call it on Nora and gave her a yellow card which meant she had to come out of the game for one play. That was when my coach called me up. I was all bundled up in hats and gloves and sweatpants so I tore all of my layers off and walked toward him. He informed me of the penalty kick that was about to take place and that I shouldn’t worry what happened because there were only a few minutes left in the game and we were losing. We were only losing by one goal though and I wanted nothing more than to block the shot. 

I took to the field and found my place on the goal line, readying myself for the shot. The whistle blew and the ball came speeding towards me. I leaped up as it was heading straight above me. My hands hadn’t touched the ball but the next thing I saw was it flying back out towards the field. It was then recovered by another Peekskill offender and shot at the net. It went in as I heard cheers coming from the Peekskill bench and fans. 

As I trotted off the field and back to my spot on the bench, my coach ran over to me and embraced me. He knew how hard I had been working and knew how much time I put into this commitment. He said, “You followed it all the way up there kid, fingers to the crossbar.” 

That time, it wasn’t about the ball going in the net, it was about the fact that I knew I could do it. I had reached the crossbar and had the right judgment to be able to see where the ball was going to be kicked. I knew that when Nora left the team, I would be more than ready to take on the task. Everyone gets a chance, sometime in their life, to put their work to the test and this was mine.