10/22/2026
Life is full of highs and lows, beautiful victories and heartbreaking disappointments, days we wish we could relive forever and moments we wish we could rewrite. But when I look back on the last 14 years of watching you compete, grow, and chase your dreams, there is one thing I know for certain; I have never had a bad day watching you step onto that athletic field. Not one.
As your dad, I’ve been blessed with a front-row seat to a story that has been about so much more than soccer. It’s been a story of passion, grit, friendship, character, leadership, and plenty of humor along the way.
I’ll never forget those Saturdays when you would transform from the fierce competitor on the soccer field, hair pulled into a bun and makeup perfectly done, to the girl rushing off to dance, changing in the car with that big smile on her face, ready to dance her heart out. The contrast always made me laugh. One minute, you were all fire and determination, battling for every ball; the next, you were dancing with the same joy and energy you brought to the field. Looking back, I realize both sides of you were always the same girl: someone who gives her whole heart to whatever she loves.
And oh, how I loved those rides home after games. You clearly didn’t always love them with your eye rolls when I continued coaching in the car. I always loved hearing every detail from your perspective, reliving the big plays, the close calls, and the moments that mattered most to you. I can still picture you telling me about the two boys who tried to grab you as you ran toward the goal, only for both of them to end up on the ground while you kept going and eventually celebrated your goal. I also remember the game when your allergies were bothering you, so you took non-drowsy allergy medicine and Tylenol, scored three goals in the first half, and had so much energy at halftime that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.
But some of my favorite memories aren’t about goals, wins, or the many championships. They’re about the heart behind the athlete.
I remember sweet Jules, in the middle of a hard-fought game, accidentally knocking a girl down and immediately stopping her chase for a loose ball to reach out a gentle hand and help her back up. Even in the heat of competition, your instinct to care for someone else was stronger than your desire to win in that moment. As your dad, those are the moments that make me proudest. Goals and victories were wonderful, but seeing the person you are becoming has always been the real win for me.
Some of my greatest memories will always be from those early years when I had the privilege of being more than just your dad, but also your coach. I got to stand beside you on the field, teach you the game, encourage you to push harder, and watch you and your friends grow into an incredible team that became champions year after year. Then came my transition from Coach Dad to Spectator Dad, when I tried my best to step back, take my place on the sidelines, and simply enjoy watching you compete. What a special gift it has been to experience both sides of this journey.
Over these years, you’ve built lifelong friendships, learned to trust one another as a team, celebrated victories, endured disappointments, worked through differences, and created memories that will last long after the final whistle. Sometimes, you don’t realize you’re living the good old days until you find yourself looking back at photographs late at night. And that is exactly what I found myself doing last night.
I sat looking through pictures of you over the years, from the little girl just beginning her soccer journey to the strong, confident young woman standing before us today. Picture after picture brought back a memory, a smile, a proud moment, or a story I could tell a hundred times and never grow tired of sharing. My heart was full, but there was also a sadness I couldn’t ignore. Your senior year, a season you worked so hard for and deserved so much from, was cut short by injury, leaving you unable to play in your Senior Game.
As a dad, there is something especially difficult about watching your child get injured when you know how much she has poured into something she loves. I wish I could take the pain away. I wish I could rewrite this chapter so your entire senior season unfolded exactly as you had dreamed. From my perspective I wish I could give you just a moment of the joy I’ve had watching you play through my eyes.
But life doesn’t always give us the ending we planned. Sometimes, it gives us a chapter we never would have chosen, and we have to find the strength to carry its lessons with us into other parts of our lives.
And then I thought about the irony of it all.
Fourteen years ago, you and your ride-or-die friend began your soccer journeys together. Two little girls, just starting out, with no idea how much of life they would experience side by side through this beautiful game. Fourteen years later, in a hard-fought overtime loss against a team that, statistically, was expected to beat us comfortably in regulation, both of you suffered season-ending injuries within minutes of one another fighting so hard for one last win.
It’s almost impossible to imagine a more unexpected ending to a story that began together so many years ago. The same two girls who started this journey side by side now find themselves laughing and crying at the same time, facing one of life’s hardest realities together: season-ending injuries in their Senior year.
You both won countless youth tournament championships. You both became four-year varsity starters. You both served two years as varsity co-captains. You both earned All-Conference honors. Through years of hard work, sacrifice, resilience, leadership, and dedication, you built reputations that speak for themselves. You became the kind of players younger athletes in the program can look up to and the kind of teammates coaches are always grateful to have.
Now it’s up to your senior teammates to lead the rest of the team to finish the season strong. I know you’ll be cheering them on, because that’s who you are. You understand that being part of a team means standing beside your teammates even when you can no longer be on the field beside them in battle. Your role may look a bit different now, but your impact on that team has not disappeared.
The soccer chapter may be coming to an unexpected close, but your story is only getting started. You have a bright future, Jules. And wherever that story takes you, whatever challenges you face, and whatever dreams you choose to chase, one thing will never change:
I will always be your dad, your biggest fan, and the guy who will forever be grateful that he got to watch you play.
I love you more than words could ever explain. I always have your back, and I always will. ⚽️❤️
