I’ve talked before about our son Andrew’s soccer playing career (and ours). At the beginning of his senior year in high school, that career came to an abrupt stop.
That kind of sentence usually is followed by one which speaks of a traumatic injury, a life tragedy of some sort. In this story however, there was simply the absence of a name on a list.
One night in early August, 2004, Andrew was out for ice cream with a bunch of friends from church. He had traveled to Mexico with several of them earlier in the summer to work on a building project. Tonight they were relaxing together. Which was helpful for Andrew.
Soccer practice had started a couple weeks earlier. Every morning and every evening they had been running and practicing and scrimmaging. Andrew had played on the varsity team a little at the end of his sophomore year and had been on the team during his junior year. He was a solid team player. As he started his senior year, we were all a little relieved to not be among the freshmen, struggling with fear and big guys.
When his friend called that night at the ice cream place and told Andrew that his name wasn’t on the roster, it came as a surprise. He called us and we were, like most parents, stunned. Even as he went back inside, we were struggling with what to say and what to do (and considering finding the coach’s address). There had been, from our perspective, no good reason, though it was possible that Andrew wasn’t telling us everything.
(Before going on with the rest of the post, which is about Andrew, it’s worth a digression: There never was a good explanation for why Andrew and another senior were cut. Our theory is that the coach had dreams about making it further through the state tournament and needed to have players that were more driven and less nice. But that’s just a theory and it didn’t work out so well for him. And though we talked about intervening, we didn’t. What!?! Didn’t we care as parents? Keep reading.)
Eventually Andrew got home. We hugged him and heard him say, “It’s okay.” He had been frustrated for a bit while sitting in the car, but soon decided that it would be fine, it would work out, and he went back to his friends and his faith and his future.
There were some tough moments for him, and for us. But school started and with it, football, and with football, the “no shirt guys.” You know those guys you see on freezing days with letters painted on their bodies? The ones that make you say, “Does his mother know what he’s doing?” His friend had grabbed the flag to be the “no shirt guys” for 2004 and so our son spent the fall semester as the I in S-N-I-D-E-R. He attended football games for the first time in his high school career and found that he loved being part of the crowd as much as he had loved being on the field.
Supporting the guys were the tank top girls. They were the friends of the guys. One of them, recruited by someone else because she has school spirit and is fun, was Allie. And somewhere during the football season, without his parents realizing, and almost without either of them realizing it, Andrew and Allie went from being classmates and acquaintances to being a couple.
They’ve been together for three and a half years. Now, during the school year, she’s in Chicago, he’s in Fort Wayne. They talk every night. They text and email and do thoughtful stuff for each other without being all mushy. They say “I love you” and live it with respect and affection. When she’s around, she comes to his soccer games. They’ll both finish college in about a year and yes, they are having conversations about what comes after that.
Which is fine with us.
And it makes me wonder what would have happened if Andrew hadn’t been fired from the team, if we had argued with the coach, if he had pouted rather than moving on, if he had treasured soccer more than, well, more than anything.
————–
Andrew Swanson turned 21 in February 2008. This post is part of a series of reflections on 21 years of being a dad.
by Jon Swanson
[tags]parents, parenting, kids, children, soccer, football, teams, friends, love, romance, support, college[/tags]
Photo graciously provided by jon.swanson, through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved
12 responses so far ↓
Stu Mark // Apr 14, 2008 at 11:28 am
As you know, my boy plays soccer, so I can empathize with the heaviness of getting cut. But I so believe in fate and the wisdom of the Universe, so I get it that Allie was part of the larger plan. And I’m solidly impressed with Andrew’s ability to deal with the loss of soccer - my boy would be devastated!
Megin Hatch // Apr 14, 2008 at 11:56 am
Jon-
(I hope one day to sit in your congregation-)
I imagine that was a really difficult place to be. Some “injustices” should be fought- with the parent’s support- and I don’t mean the aggressive sports parent- I don’t even mean sports.
I imagine it’s about letting the kid lead you. Andrew certainly seemed to make the best of it- I wonder, in retrospect, what his thoughts on the episode are.
Que sera sera…
Andrew // Apr 14, 2008 at 12:21 pm
Finding out that I had been cut was the most devastating thing that had every happened to me…the feeling lasted for about 10 minutes, and I was over it.
Yes, I have regrets about not playing that year. The team did better than it had ever done before. I had good friends on the team. I was a SENIOR and soccer was my LIFE.
But the opportunities presented to me by NOT playing go above and beyond what I would have received by playing.
I was offered a scholarship to play in college. I realized that I was burnt out on soccer, and now love the game more than ever. I was able to spend time with friends that I had put on the back burner because of soccer. I was able to ENJOY my senior year. No-shirting was one of the most memorable times of my life. I followed our football team across Indiana…all the way to the state championship game. Standing on the sideline, shirtless, with an “I” on your chest, holding a flag with an “I” on it, running and screaming and cheering and smiling as snow falls and our team wins gave me so much more pleasure than anything I got out of playing soccer at Snider.
Oh, and I met the love of my life. I’m thoroughly convinced that if I had played soccer that fall, Allie and I would have never progressed past acquaintances.
So, looking at the big picture, the most devastating thing in my life turned into the most wonderful and amazing thing in my life.
Megin Hatch // Apr 14, 2008 at 1:35 pm
Andrew,
I have to say to you what I said to your dad- I’d like to be in your congregation some day, too. Whatever that congregation is.
At the end of those 10 minutes, do you remember what you said to yourself? Was it a matter of it wasn’t meant to be, or it’s not worth worrying about, or _____? Mind over matter, faith, pride, __?
Just wondering…
Thanks for being here-
Andrew // Apr 14, 2008 at 1:46 pm
Well, like my dad said, I was out for ice cream with some friends.
I got the phone call from one of my best friends on the team who went to the school to check the rosters. I wasn’t even going to bother to check if I had made the team…I was 100% confident that I would.
At first, it was total disbelief. I though my friends were messing around with me. I called my dad and had him go over to the school to check. It was probably one of the hardest things for him to do, calling and confirming that I wasn’t going to be playing soccer my senior year.
I excused myself from my friends and went outside and sat in my car. For a while, it was just shock…I shed a tear…and just kinda got over it.
I had another girlfriend at the time, and was excited that I would be able to spend time with her. I quit my job in order to play, and (thought) I was going to get it back (didn’t), but ended up getting a better job, that I still have now.
I think I looked at the big picture and saw all of the other opportunities that awaited me. Sure, I loved soccer, but my coaches and some teammates made it absolutely miserable at times. It was a relief that I would not have to deal with struggles through the season, and could just live my life and enjoy senior year.
I don’t think I really had to convince myself not to worry about it. I was over it pretty quickly. The other senior who got cut was going to protest and meet with the coach, but I had no desire to bother with it.
Looking back, I really don’t understand why I was able to deal with it so easily. I just took the coaches decision as the best judgement and knew that there was something bigger and better awaiting me.
Michelle (The Beartwinsmom) // Apr 14, 2008 at 2:06 pm
You are so lucky, Andrew and Jon, that you both have that gift of perspective. It is amazing to look back and wonder “what might have happened”, and then realize that your life is better how it is now.
Thank you both for sharing your perspectives!
Warm regards,
Michelle aka The Beartwinsmom
jon // Apr 14, 2008 at 2:13 pm
Everyone, meet our son, Andrew. As you may be able to tell, he is well-equipped to be a communication media major.
For you with kids that are younger, this is for me the evidence that they grow up and can surprise and delight us. Did we wonder at times? yep. Did we get frustrated? Have I hollered? Yep.
Are we both proud and incredibly thankful? yep.
Are we done? nope.
oh. And Megin? you already do show up.
And Andrew? I love you. Thanks for coming by here and for letting me put your life in front of people.
Megin Hatch // Apr 14, 2008 at 2:27 pm
I feel really lucky that you both came by here…
And, I am stretching to find a more (gasp) mature adult that would handle such devastation with such Grace.
Thanks for sharing~
Stu Mark // Apr 15, 2008 at 7:36 am
Not to embarrass Andrew, but wow, really, I was astonished at his comment - so honest and open and thoughtful and articulate. I know that kids are probably a few years off for you, Andrew, but when you do become a dad, please consider writing for us!
And Jon, nothing to say but “Way to go on the parenting thing.”
Cheryl Smith // Apr 15, 2008 at 10:44 am
Great story, Jon. Now I not only admire your writing and faith perspective, but also your parenting skills.
The post reminds me of Harvey Mackay’s book, “We Got Fired…and it was the best thing that ever happened to us.” For more on the book check out http://www.harveymackay.com.
Disclosure - I do not know Harvey nor do I receive royalties.
jon // Apr 15, 2008 at 1:37 pm
Mr Meg noted today that he’s crediting Nancy with all this. I’m not arguing too hard with that. That fits with Ginger’s post for April 15 here at GNMParents.
And there has been much prayer for and with this family. That is true.
Megin Hatch // Apr 15, 2008 at 5:24 pm
Jon- you are so very very funny. I just had to have Rob (Mr. Meg himself) translate for me.
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