I think this may be the first time that this has ever happened to me in my adult years on this planet.
I’ve been confined to my bed.
No exceptions.
I’ve fought a cold for several days now, and after being in the cold for hours for tryouts, I can finally say; the cold won.
However, my girlfriend has enforced orange juice, tea, and soup today. Also commenting that the only time I’m allowed to leave the bed is to get soup. I’m afraid she’s being serious.
-D-
I truly am my father’s son; once I get a project started, I never want to stop. I’m a builder, that’s what I do [let me loose with some Lego's and be prepared to be amazed].
I would go far enough to say that my current project; the Kansas City Shock is one of the most daunting tasks that I’ve ever been a part of. Easily it surpasses four years of college, and narrowly passes the awkwardness of high school.
However, it’s still just a project, an idea, a worldly creation that is bent to…to what?
It’s been a quiet Saturday today; I woke up still fuzzy from the recent illness I’ve had this week. Didn’t even fully get out of bed until around 2:00 PM, spent time sipping coffee, messing around with the Kansas City Shock, and watching cartoons. I’m serious; I didn’t really do much today.
That was the plan. I told myself after the past two days, mixed with Christmas, mixed with tryouts, and everything else in between, and before a psychotically busy January, I was doing a whole lot of nothing this weekend.
I forgot what it was like to sit back, with nothing on the agenda, and let your brain just wander around. Pushing the envelop past soccer, business, and what is on the forefront of mind. What lies deeper?
I just became a member of Missouri Valley, I’m dating a woman that is approaching eight months [officially], and there is a lot of changes in my life that aren’t reflective directly of my involvement in the soccer world. There is more then what lies within the lines on the field.
In the end tonight was just a night to reflect I suppose. Life has changed in directions that I can’t even believe. Realistically, the life that is my past seems unreal, only a rumor of what I once lived. I’m only 25, but I still can’t get over the journey so far.
-D-
Just realized something…only around 200 more views until this site hits 16,000 views. Hmmm…four days to reach 16,000? Anyone else game?
I can’t even properly describe today. It’s one of those ‘flashbulb memories’ that you never forget; ever. It ranges up there with proposals, weddings, and the birth of ones children. Yes, it is that vital and it is that important.
#whiteout12
Imagine the scene:
You’ve been running through the city for most of the morning. Typing up some papers, going to bank, and handling phone calls left and right. Sounds like a typical day, it’s winter; the snow from the last storm is on the ground and the city hums at its usual post-Christmas tune.
You move after the last stop light and hit the highway, it’s around 2:00 PM in the afternoon. Temperature is around 30 degrees, light wind and plenty of sun. Out of the city you stroll, coming to stop at this high school that is located along the a subdivision in the middle of nowhere.
Turn the car off. Put on your gloves, and start walking towards the football field. As you head down the hill, trying not to slip on the ice, you take a panoramic shot of the surroundings.
Around thirty women on the field kicking soccer balls to each other. A table at the gate; registration for the players. The coaches are grouped in the middle of the field talking, and the camera is being set up along the top of the stadium seating.
You’re greeted at the table by the person running registration, and introduced to ASL interpreters and the EMT that is on site. You walk through the snow left on the rubber track to the midfield line of the rubberized, turf field. Your clothes? Jeans, shirt, and a thick winter coat.
The whistle blows. The coach groups up the players and tells them the instructions for the day. Your job? To literally just stand there and watch.
Minutes pass by as the field is divided into eleven players on each side, and a few standing along the sideline as substitutes. No one acknowledges the ice, snow, or anything else that could be perceived along the way.
You make mental notes of the players; knowing none of them, only recognizing them as 104, 118, 109, and the other numbers that are listed along their shirts and pants.
For two hours you just watch these players give everything they’ve got. This is their tryout, their opportunity to prove to the coaches that they deserve to be on this team. Ranging from junior colleges, to NCAA, to beyond. Every person from every walk of life with just one goal; to continue their game. There is yelling, cleats, and snow flying every which way. Finally, through sweat, ice, and everything in between the head coach blows the whistle and commends each participant. They pack up and head home; to return for another round the next day.
Yourself? You gather up some supplies from the field, walk to your car, and head to a local restaurant with some friends to have a beer, a burger, and talk the day away.
That was my day today. In February of this year the simple notion was imagined; building a women’s soccer program in Kansas City, comprising of the great people of the Great Plains. Some laughed, some were encouraged, and most were just curious.
Today though, through some of the stress that transpired in the morning, to the complete exhaustion of this evening [I'm going to bed early], it all vanished for a few hours this afternoon. I saw a coach who looked, talked, sounded, and acted like a professional coach. I saw a staff who have been stressed lately finally relaxing a bit and smiling. I saw a coaching staff walk the walk, and talk the talk. I witnessed the physical creation of the Kansas City Shock today. It was a small step, but recognizing that some of these players are going to ours in a few months, that they’re going to be the face of our franchise, that they’re going to be the ones who will be shocking the world? Incredible.
Any of you who have followed this blog for the year and some odd months that it has existed surely are somewhat amused at the continued development of this strange notion. For those who are; I think two links are in order to give you some guidance of this crazy adventure:
I suppose in the end, as I’m already starting to doze off for the night, I’m just amazed at how good God is, and how much of Him is etched throughout this entire adventure.
-D-
It was a dream.
Like any other person in the world [I'd imagine], there was always something inside of me, pride naturally, that encouraged me to dream of being famous.
President? Athlete? Superstar?
Of course, society says that reality tends to turn up the simple answer: None of the above.
It’s a hard pill to swallow, due to our naturally inherent desires of selfishness, to grasp that being famous may not be in the cards for myself, or anyone that is around me. However, we still hold onto the concept, a belief that many times ruled ‘unlikely’ by most, yet we still ask that one question, “What would happen if…”
That notion was poised in front of me this evening while MC, Darco, her mother, Jim, and myself spent our Christmas ritual at the local movie theater [Skyfall for the win]. Upon entry I found a friend of mine’s, Sam’s, parents that were standing in the lobby of the theater. I walked up and wished them a merry Christmas, broke out the hugs, talked about Christmas, and of course brought up soccer and the progress with the Shock.
Sam’s family ‘adopted’ me years upon years ago, and they’ve always been a second family to me. His mother looked at me, twinkle in her eye, and simply asked a single question:
Are you going to be famous?
Naturally, the immediate answer is no. However, if one is left to dream, realistically who knows what is possible. I didn’t give a definitely answer one way or another, but after some thought I summed up my mental answer like this:
Even as cheesy as it may sound; the reality is this team should not have existed or ‘worked’ from day one. However, this is a program that has a unique backing of which I may never understand. If I ever take credit for being famous or not, I have missed my mark. The glory goes to the One who gave me life, and allowed this dream to live. Anything else is mere rubbish.
And that is something I will take to my grave.
-D-
Yeah…it’s that bad…
I was sitting at lunch today with MC, Darco, and Jim; coat pulled up, shivering, waiting for our soup and salad from Olive Garden.
Jim and MC, being my parents, knew what these were signs of:
You need rest. Every time we see red around your eyes, we know you’re overworked and you need rest.
Believe me; I wanted to argue with them, but they’re right.
I’m exhausted.
From Blanc last night, three meetings during the week, a snow storm that I had to drive through, getting work done for the week, finalizing the tryout format for the Shock for next week…I just want to confess that I’m tired. I’m so tired that I’m sad. Seriously.
I was driving between my stores tonight, just talking to God in the car [why not?], and I just kept saying, “I’m sorry”, because so frequently I feel like I’ve disappointed Him, or let Him down.
If I was a stronger Christian I would be able to keep going on little sleep, if my faith was stronger, I wouldn’t get worn down so easily. When the reality is; I’m really worn down. Getting a soccer team and business off up the ground is a challenge in itself; factor in another team being established in the same city as yours, only supported by the US Soccer Federation…that’s a chore to deal with.
I hope I’ve handled it well.
These are the moments where being the small fish in the ocean [versus big fish in the little pond] can get overwhelming. I told my Sunday School class at MoVal today my exact thoughts:
In any other case, there is no rhyme or reason for why our business continues to grow. We should not have been successful.
The harsh reality is; we shouldn’t. Not in this economy, not in this city, and most definitely not by being created on Twitter first. Every move that has been made has made little sense, but it’s been the right more. Again, my goal for this program hasn’t changed; I want people to look back at our program and simple think:
There was obviously someone bigger behind the creation and success of this program.
I hope credit doesn’t go my way, because believe me; I don’t deserve it.
*first yawn from the Ny-Quil*
Either way, I’ve come home for the night; I’m completely wiped. I’ve taken some Ny-Quil, finished up early, and now the yawns are starting to set in. I plan on sleeping soundly through the night, and well into the morning.
When I fall asleep; I do so continuing to believe that God has this, He has this, and I just need to trust…
-D-
It’s getting so late into the night, but the eventfulness just doesn’t stop:
First was learning about Haley, the Shock’s director of media and her upcoming adventures in Portugal
Next came the fascination associated with the journey to Blanc Burger & Bottles
Finally, right before I was heading to bed a message came in from a company offering to get some information about the Shock so they can post it on their mobile application that over 22,000 people use.
This comes after another organization spoke to me this week about buying large swaths of tickets for games as giveaways within their organization.
This is all so incredible, that it’s chilling. I mean just incredible what’s going on.
This whole thing was a simple thought on February of this year; you don’t get to dream up these stories, you don’t get to manage them yourself; this is where we all get to stand back and just simply say:
God is good.
-D-
Several years ago I watched a documentary on the New York City nightlife for post-teenage/pre-adult mindsets; in other words at the time; the future me.
It passed up all the nightclubs, and dub step houses. Slid past the bars and vacant ally lots. I don’t remember much about the show, except for one insert. Some fancy hamburger joint.
Now, from MC to Darco, the world knows my weakness of a good burger; see what I mean here and here for great examples. What the show had on display was some sort of chic display of modern art, electric lights, and round burgers on rectangle plates that made absolutely no sense. I was entranced. It was a burger joint that wasn’t about fast food, but about good food, great friends, and usually a stupid price tag.
I wrote this off as a mental concept of things that I’d add to a bucket list; never to accomplish [please remember that this was four years ago]. Gourmet burgers. Who would have thought?
Since then Twitter has become a staple of every day life, and within the program of the Kansas City Shock it’s a daily resource. However, today was very unique. I had hopped on to post some information about our director of media [cool story], and started to see some post from a place called Blanc Burgers and Bottles. All I knew about Blanc was:
The third reason had kept me away [the assumption of the price tag], but they kept using the tag #eatKC. Here’s the unique thing about Blanc; everything they make is used from food companies within the area; whether it is Boulevard beer, The Roasterie’s coffee, or milk for their shakes by Shatto Dairy [down the road from where I grew up]; everything revolves around utilizing every element of Kansas City. The same belief I have about the Kansas City Shock. After watching the interaction I made a snap decision:
My girlfriend and I were going to eat at Blanc.
So, I sent out a tweet, tagging Blanc, and got ready for the date. Blanc responded; wanting to know time and which location of theirs I’d be at. After answers; they stated that I should ask for the MOD when I arrived [MOD=Manager on Duty I later learned]. So, my girlfriend and I hopped in the car, and after a quick stop to talk to MC, we went to the Plaza [Country Club Plaza]. After fighting the mini-New York, we found Blanc. Immediate image:
Yes, as stated at the top, I was took a piece off of the bucket list. After waiting for about fifteen minutes for a seat, my girlfriend and I started to chat about what to eat. That’s when a man with a Hispanic accent stepped up to the table, pulled up a chair and started chatting.
The owner of Blanc; Ernesto.
Ernesto told us about his life, his passion, and why Blanc existed; it was captivating and amazing. This gourmet burger owner was taking time to sit with us. He ordered our appetizer [fries with bacon and melted guda cheese...my word], and our drinks on the house. We sat and chatted for about twenty minutes; discussing his love for Blanc and Kansas City, and my love for soccer and Kansas City. We found common ground. We spoke of his plans for business, and mine; spoke about the potentials that were available for each. This man oozed Kansas City; he said under his thick accent, “I’m the most loyal Kansas City-an that isn’t from Kansas City”. I couldn’t agree more. He left me his card, of course myself handing out cards is merely second nature now. The phrase, “Official burger of the Kansas City Shock” was used, and he headed home for the night.
It took me a moment, while working on the most amazing black bean burger I’ve ever had, to fully wrap my mind around what had taken place. Make no mistake; Blanc is a major restaurant in Kansas City; one of the top 50 burgers in the United States by Food Network Magazine; in the eatery world, this place is a big deal. I just had an appetizer with the owner and creator of the thing. He suggested that any business meeting I have; to bring them into his place. Every coach and owner that travels into Kansas City; introduce them to Ernesto and Blanc.
Tonight I felt like a business owner, tonight I lived out a dream, and tonight I met a soul with the same belief as mine; the potential that lies in Kansas City is limitless when we work together. Not to mention, seeing and listening to someone with age and wisdom, and for them to believe in the goal that I have: I left Blanc full, content, and inspired.
My girlfriend enjoyed the meal too.
You have to try…ANYTHING! IT’S ALL SO GOOD!
I’ve logged over 200 miles today; I’m tired and I’ve resulted into doing two things that are usually not permitted in my life:
Why?
I’m beat. Mentally, emotionally, and physically. I can’t handle the long drives nearly as well as I used to, and mentally I’m just fried today. Is that wrong?
Two hundred miles is good for only one element of life; thinking.
Call it reflection, or call it just mindless wandering, but anyone who has kept up with my journey since July of 2011 can admit that it’s been a ride.
You don’t get to make up stories like these; you don’t get to go from absolutely nothing to everything. That doesn’t happen in today’s world, right?
Dead. Wrong.
Has it been easy? Not a chance; while traveling through north central Missouri today I thought back to the horrible journey of breaking and entering to find food. Not the best moment of life, or the legal paperwork that was filed, and then filed again. However; the pains and frustrations are so small compared to the fruits of the excitement that I now live on a daily basis. Realistically; perhaps as I find myself partway through year two; it’s the reflection on those who have been instrumental towards the elements of my life. From running until I wanted to die [and then some], to random journey’s down south while in panic-mode, to writing and writing and writing, to the insane ideas that conjure up in my mind [throw a few sandwiches in there also], and there’s a list of people, organizations, businesses, and so much more to note, to thank, and to appreciate.
However, that would give notion towards the end of a book; which anyone who knows me, knows that isn’t even close to the truth [we've got a while on book two, as it has become much larger then anticipated].
Perhaps this is the medicine that I needed tonight. Truthfully, I’ve had knots in my stomach all day. The stress from the Kansas City Shock and what I put on myself has been unreal. While I dare not say tonight is a night of doing nothing [the amount of e-mails I have to work on is unreal], but taking the initiative to reflect on positive thought in order to maintain balance of my mind [so I don't lose it], and continue to remind myself to remain humble, passionate, and grateful.
Mind spinning yet? Neither is mine; it’s 9:30 PM CST; I dropped my luggage in the apartment, put on some cartoons, and just started typing. I tend of Amy Jo Martin in exact moments like this; Ms. Martin explained a study [that her staff forced her to do] called Ready, Set, Pause. The problem was that she was moving too often, too quickly, and wasn’t able to catch her breath. Complete overload. Her crew required her to take eight minutes out of her day [literally penned into her schedule] and just relax; throw on some music, and take a deep breath.
While I’m chalking this up to Ready, Set, Pause; I do see the evening in similar light. I firmly believe that it is a temptation to dwell on the past. How many of us during our youth years tried the one-up trick of, “Oh you think your life was bad? Well mine was…” Maybe no one else, but I’m as guilty as sin with the notion. How Jo, throughout college, didn’t kill me is beyond my mental capability. However, as I’ve grown older there has come the concept of reflection vs dwelling:
Reflection runs a mindset of focusing on the thought provoking ideas, and insight from the events of an individuals life. Wisdom, joy, and emotions are frequently stirred for the individual. A case in myself would be, humorously, listening to “As Long As You Love Me” by Justin Bieber. Hearing the song spurns the idea of a night time drive in a black Ford Fusion; all while driving down Santa Monica Boulevard. My emotion? Joy. Happiness. Meeting new friends, traveling, and enjoying a bit of freedom. That’s reflection upon my life; taking a moment to contemplate the events that I’ve partaken in.
Dwelling tends to be a dangerous slope that once started; can result in negative attitudes and a selfish desire to make every idea and concept in the world about ones self. Using myself again, a good example would be December of 2007; during Christmas Eve. I was on Facebook chat with Jo; I had known her for a month at this point, and I was pointing out every doom-and-gloom element of my life. I’m poor, my parents divorced, my girlfriend dumped me, I’m always made fun up, blah…blah…blah…Who did that benefit? Definitely not Jo; looking back I feel very bad for the moment. I can tell that it was focused on the subconscious benefit of myself. By talking poorly of myself, I was able to amplify my ‘importance’ in the conversation, pulling pity, and in turn recognizing that the conversation was solely about me. Dwelling on the past can quickly be brought in contact with selfishness.
At this point I’ve been looking at cat pictures, and fighting with Pandora on good music selection, but I think these musing prove the point. Perhaps if nowhere else, my own life; growing means recognizing what is safe, and what is ill advised.
My only hope is that as the days, weeks, months, and years progress that the memories found in my reflections may be ones that can be viewed, smiled, and remembered in their truth form.
Now…where are those e-mails…
-D-
Most definitely time for me to get my praise on.
Today at MoVal I put myself well out of my comfort zone and during the end of the service I walked down the isle to talk to Jared (preacher/coon hunter). Simply put, the man knows my past, and I told him I wanted to join the church family at MoVal.
No sparks, water, or anything else. Just a quick prayer, and introduction after church (I’ve been attending for a year and a half now), and we called it good.
More importantly; I’m safe, I’ve found sanctuary, a refuge.
I’ve found home.
-D-
