Finally. I have a soccer trophy of my very own.
I have two little brothers who grew up playing soccer. For years my mom washed and carefully folded colorful t-shirts adorned with family tradition: the number 8 and "Hutch" written across the back. My dad played football in high school, he was number 88 and all his buds called him "Hutch." My brothers proudly followed suit.
Growing up, our foyer was littered with cleats and shin pads and stinky duffel bags were sometimes forgotten in the back of the minivan. My dad broke many lawn chairs, forcing them to rock back and forth in nervous excitement during games. On a family vacation to Scotland, one of the first things my family purchased was a soccer ball. The boys (dad plus two brothers) played in the wide open green space bouncing the ball off their heads, knees and feet.
We are a soccer family, and I'm so glad to finally be part of it!