Still to this day, my mother drives a minivan.
At the time when she started driving one, it seemed appropriate.
I hate using the term “soccer mom,” but that’s truly what she was.
And not just her, my father too. He was my “soccer dad.”
After the farm sold, and my father took a more standard 9 to 5 job, he had more time on his hands. Time to coach his daughters soccer.
Both my parents became soccer coaches actually.
And not just for soccer, my mom coached basketball too.
And not just for my team, but for my sister’s team too.
It started with my sister and continued long after me.
I can honestly say that the only soccer coaches I had throughout my entire soccer career were my parents.
From 7 years old to 18.
Over a decade of time and for multiple sports seasons.
Hundreds, even thousands of games, scrimmages and tournaments.
For some it might have been hard, having your parents as your coaches.
It might have been uncomfortable, or of sheer annoyance.
But for me, it was seemingly easy, and truthfully, I enjoyed it.
I had more of an open and transparent relationship with both of my parents.
I was practically an only child once both of my sisters left home, and that gave me the headway to develop equally nurturing relationships with both.
The more time we spent together, the less time there was to have secrets and misdoings behind their back.
I was honest with them, as they were with me.
They treated me like any other player, giving me no special treatment or easy way out, and it almost made me work harder for my starting position.
I told them everything, and they knew everything.
Who my friends were, and who their parents were.
We were a tightknit community and it made for less surprises.
I did not have the terrible teen years like most do, because my parents were right there beside me for the whole ride. There was no room for me to lie or turn against them. No room to hide and no need to want to.
They were in it all with me, cheering me on for every win.
Navigating me through all the losses.
Supporting me with every accomplishment and always allowing me to dream bigger than I knew I could.
They were the ones who made me into my most strong and reliant self.
Giving me a confidence and esteem that many may never find or gain.
By my parents coaching and leading my teams to victory, it was their leadership skills that made me into one. A leader, not a follower.
It was in the back of those minivans, on the way to and from games, that I connected with my parents.
That I heard about what ref gave the wrong call, which girls needed to get their acts together (sometimes it was me), and how some games we were simply on fire.
Unstoppable. Unbeatable. Invincible.
It was my parents who showed me how to exult in victory and find correction in defeat.
How to ride the highs and get out of the lows.
It was in those rides, in the conversations we had, in the country songs we sang, in the equipment we prepped, that I was shown how to lead a tribe.
My parents were the chiefs, and I was their pride…and joy.
Together we formed our own perfect storm, strong enough to take on anything that came our way.
A three-person army driving their minivan, all the way to the finish line and beyond.