Soccer and Logic Don't Often Mix


MONTCLAIR, N.J. — In 500 words, I’m about to logically explain why I do not subscribe to logic.

When we are children, we believe that anything is possible. As we grow up, the world begins to be shaped by rules.

You are a girl, so at a certain age you should no longer play soccer with boys. You are not fast or aggressive enough to succeed playing for the women’s soccer program at the University of North Carolina. That trick with the ball is impossible. You shouldn’t devote all your time and energy to soccer because you will burn out from the lack of balance. All of this is logical, but all of this is wrong.

I’m laying in the same bed in my parents’ house in which I slept as a 9-year-old. I’m 27. No home of my own home; I have a job that is incredibly unstable; and I get paid to play a game. I am on a continual mission to find fulfillment from a journey with no destination. None of this is logical, yet all of this is right.

Throughout my career, I’ve had to make tough decisions. I opted out of playing for my high school team to train with boys’ teams. I decided to play for a college program that didn’t suit my playing style, and that I knew would be an incredible challenge. I chose to leave my hometown team, Sky Blue, after two seasons in Women’s Professional Soccer (W.P.S.) to play for the Western New York Flash.

Then, in the absence of a women’s professional league in the U.S., I traveled to Russia and then Sweden to continue my career. When the N.W.S.L. was announced, I decided to stay in Sweden instead of terminating my existing contract to return for the inaugural season of the new league. Most recently, I decided not to re-sign with my team in Gothenburg, Sweden, and return to the U.S. to play in the N.W.S.L. for the 2014 season.

“If you do what everyone else does, you will get what everyone else gets.” This clichéd quotation has become my truth. None of the situations I’ve faced have correct answers. And I don’t live by logic because passion has the power to trump logic.

Logic tells me what I’m supposed to do. Logic tells me to put a timeline on my goals. Logic tells me to compare myself to other players. But I say that logic is for those bound by fear. It explains the world if you don’t have the guts to explain it your own way. Everything extraordinary — passion, faith, love — goes against logic.

Sometimes you need to let yourself believe in the possibilities rather than protect yourself with the realities or patterns that have come before. If you buy into what’s logical you’ll only prove those previous patterns right. It’s when you step outside the norm that the most extraordinary things can happen.

When I lace up my boots there is no room for logic.