A Soccer life: finding meaning in my Second Half

Turning lost youth into full-grown discovery. That's what The Second Half is all about. In my case, the game of soccer provides the catalyst for change. The journey begins around the time the first of these photos was taken, in what would be the high point of my playing days, freshman year at Westfield High School in New Jersey. Looking at the photo now, through thirty years of hindsight, it's obvious what's about to happen. The diffident body language, the downcast gaze—not exactly the image of a warrior in the making. On some level, I must have known that my fall had already begun. I just didn't have the power to stop it. Until now.      

Here's the back story: I’ve been playing soccer since age five. Some of my earliest memories are of juggling a black-and-white leather ball in the backyard of my childhood home, firing it with increasing force and accuracy into the hedgerow that lined one side of the property. Through the youth and travel leagues of the 1980s, I developed into a pretty good player, and the sport became core to my identity. Entering high school, I was one of four freshmen picked for the varsity squad, which was a big deal at the time. The coaches saw a ton of potential in our incoming class, the nucleus of which had been playing together for the better part of a decade.

Alas, this would be where I peaked. Though I was a starting defender on the senior team that took home the state championship, and went on to make the University of Vermont’s Division I squad (well, the B-team, anyway), I never developed beyond my 14-year-old self.   

Looking back, I can see I never even tried. I didn’t supplement my school team playing with club training the way my more committed peers did. I didn’t work on my physical condition. Far from it, I was part of the beer ball brigade in high school, whose favorite extracurricular activities were Camel Lights and Old Milwaukee. College, where I joined a frat, was even worse. After a year on UVM’s team, I gave up competitive soccer for good.

I never left the game completely, though. As adulthood pressures—job, family, mortgage—have mounted, so has my playing time in the pickup games around my home in Brooklyn. They’re an escape valve for the tensions of everyday life, as well as a community not based around making money, my kid’s school, or beer. As I like to tell my wife, “It just feels good to run around.”

Unfortunately, though my love for the game is stronger than ever, my 43-year-old body has never been in worse shape, and so I’m losing steps on the soccer field at an exponential pace to younger, faster players.  That’s made me nostalgic for the natural gifts of youth and full of regret that I didn’t fully commit myself to the game. I wonder not only how good I could have become but what kind of confidence I would have gained if I had made different life decisions.

A while back, I was at a dinner for my daughter’s youth soccer league. Robin Fraser, a retired professional player and, at the time, assistant coach with the New York Red Bulls player, was the guest of honor. During the Q&A, someone asked about his current playing habits. He talked about his regular workouts and various club teams. “I’m 47 years old and I’m still doing the exact same thing I did when I was 7,” he said.

Those words have stayed with me. They’re so contrary to the accepted wisdom on middle age. I hear it all the time on the soccer field, guys saying they’re going to hang ‘em up when they’re 45 or 40 or whatever age they deem (un)fit. Here was another narrative. Still going hard at 47!

It’s inspired the Second Half challenge. What if I give it one last shot, to see how good a player I can be? Obviously, my peak physical potential is behind me. But this is not about being the best player on the field. It’s about being the best soccer player I can be, and using that experience to enrich my life’s second half.

I’m not sure where the journey will lead. I know I want to explore the best pickup games in New York City, once I get into top shape. And I’m eager to meet other “second halfers,” to hear their stories and strategies. Beyond that, I’ll go wherever the game takes me—only this time, I’ll be all in.