Soccer has always fascinated me. It was one of the few sports I never played growing up.

All the soccer players I knew had beautiful toned legs and could finish a mile in less than six minutes in gym class. A few soccer players were on my cross-country team in high school. Since cross-country practice was the same time the soccer team practiced, they could only come to meets. Every Saturday morning I was left in awe when they obliterated the competition, consistently finishing in the top 20 every meet.

Naturally, when one of my friends needed another player for a recreational league he was putting together, my fascination led me to say ‘yes.’ I warned him I had never played a soccer game before — not even a casual game during recess. He assured me I would be fine.

I had been meaning to practice, but the weather got frigid quickly. The first game crept up on me before I could make any contact with a soccer ball. I convinced myself I would be fine, but when someone passed me the ball, I froze. My eyes scanned the field, searching for someone to pass to. By the time I found a teammate, a member of the opposing team did a fancy spin move and stole the ball from me.

The rest of the season flew by. I never scored a goal or anything, but I made small improvements. Every time I kicked the ball in the right direction was a personal victory. My team ended up losing every game we played; something I like to think wasn’t completely my fault.

Even though I was definitely the most inexperienced player on the team, I learned something from participating. Although overwhelming, trying something new was refreshing. The first time I stepped on the field, my heart was racing and I was wondering why I decided to do this.  The last game I played, I felt almost the same way, but I had more of an understanding of the game and what to expect from myself. Trying something new will always be nerve-racking, but you never know if you never try.