Diaper Dribbler

Two straight 5A Championships for my baby girl!  Last night was Ireland's last day on the soccer field as a high school player.  Yes, she'll move on to bigger and better things.  At least that's what they tell me.  She's committed to play in the PAC 12 and will, no doubt, receive a lifetime of friendships, experiences, and memories.  But for me... I feel a sense of loss.

She's played the beautiful game of soccer since she was 3 years old.  The diaper dribbler is what we called her.  She dribbled that ball around the couch in the living room over and over again while we'd watch TV or mom would be cooking up some dinner or cleaning up.

The following years filled me with excitement, nervousness, anger, sadness, you name it.  It was so exciting watching my girl tear into the competition and as a young girl, insert her own confidence and domination.  To see her grow into a young woman with those same characteristics made me proud.

I'm a father of four daughters, and four daughters I expect will make a big difference in this world.  Soccer started it for Ireland and now through all the experiences and friends she's made, I can truly say, "The small stage is way better than the big one".

As I watched her play in a huge, professional stadium last night with thousands of screaming fans, I felt a difference.  She wasn't just mine anymore.  It wasn't just me screaming, "Ireland, Ireland, go, go, go".  Everyone was screaming it.  I know, I know... that's a good thing, but it was different.  Like I had to let go and I didn't want to.  This was her last game of hundreds, maybe thousands and I wanted it just like we started.  Me and her.  Selfish of me.  Yes, very selfish but it really didn't matter what I wanted.  She was everyone's now.  And as she moves on to play at the University of Utah, she'll be seen on campuses all over the country and on TV.  I wonder how that'll make me feel.

Truthfully, I'm overjoyed Ireland's had all the success she has and she has the opportunities she has.  I'm truly grateful.  But part of me will always miss that small stage and the little girl I know as The Diaper Dribbler.