I didn’t say a word during the car ride home, even when my brother tried to console me. The all-too-familiar feeling of being told I couldn’t do something because I was a girl had settled into my gut, and my eyes were wet. They went something like, I wouldn’t be able to play with the team any more, because it was getting too rough. As my coach knelt gently in front of me and put his hands on my shoulders, I saw it in his eyes even before he said the words. I was the only girl on the team and we had all been playing together for a while. I was forced to sit in the stands and watch from afar, and my football-loving heart ached with envy with every snap of the ball.Ī few years later, the head coach of my indoor soccer team pulled me aside after a game. Still, no matter how much I protested or how much my brother advocated on my behalf, they never changed their minds. But now my parents were worried about me getting hurt? It didn’t add up. I held my own with the boys, and was better than most.Īs for football, I had already been playing tackle with my brothers and their friends on the street, in backyards and on rock-filled school playground lots. Both of us were naturally athletic and had great coordination and dexterity.
Up until that moment, my brother and I had been playing soccer together on a co-ed team since we were five. I was not allowed to play, out of fear I might get hurt because I was a girl. I was 8 years old when my twin brother had signed up to play youth football.
0 kommentar(er)
