The Beginning of the End

The summer of 2010 was the beginning of the end.

From then on, my soccer career started to descend.

As I played that game on that humid, Louisiana day,

I should have cherished my ability to play.

With 20 minutes left, number 8 slide tackled me from behind.

Following numerous twists and pops my knee became dis-aligned.

After the surgery, therapy, and the six-month wait was done,

I knew my comeback had just begun.

Goal after goal.

Win after win.

We destroyed teams, and they left chagrin.

We were 34 games deep,

And my knee felt everything but weak.

Until the familiar pops arose,

And I felt my comeback decompose. 

11 months later and I felt stronger than ever.

I was playing soccer collegiately and things kept getting better.

It was summertime, and the regional tournament was on the line.

Until those memorable pops sounded, sending shivers down my spine.

Following 2 more surgeries and a year and a half recovery,

My school retracted my scholarship, and now I’m no longer living in luxury.

I never would have imagined my doctor telling me to give up soccer,

But I refuse to let this define myself.

Maybe I’ll become a writer, a runner, or even a boxer.

I’m determined to get another trophy on my shelf