There is a football pitch near our house where I play football once or twice a week with a group of girls.
I played football for one season in elementary school, and our team wasn’t too good. We didn’t make a goal the entire season, except for one that went past our own goalie to give the other team a point.
It’s not hard to wonder why I played just one season.
And even now, I’m awful. Most days I leave thinking I should have enough pride to not return.
But I keep going back. I love the running around, the challenge. And they are gracious enough to tell me when I’m breaking rules I don’t know about, laugh it off when I miss a pass again, and simply let me play. It’s good.
But this week, I made two goals! One on Wednesday and another on Friday. I made a positive, quantitive contribution!
I will admit that I also fell once in each game. I suppose I shouldn’t get too prideful.