As I took my first coaching course, it made me realize just how much I was loved. Why? I know it must be weird. I was out there with moms and dads who were getting their license to coach their young child and to learn the game of soccer. They couldn't do much, didn't know how to head a ball or strike a ball but were so excited to watch me be able to demonstrate. In 90 degrees they were tired and overwhelmed constantly taking water breaks out of fatigue, trying to learn what seemed basic to me. Over a decade ago, those were my parents out there in their sneakers. Both basketball players in college and professionally, they took a chance to learn the game of soccer and get certified to coach me, a scrawny skinny kid whose knees were the biggest part of my pencil legs and head seemed way to big for my body. Although they never physically played, they were out there learning to head the ball and strike the ball in their multiple coaching courses while studying the game. They joke that they kept sitting back and watching the younger kids demonstrate. Well today I was that younger kid demonstrating for someone else's mom or dad. After all that I accomplished, regardless what anyone thinks of parent coaches, they're still my best coaches. Not because they were easy, I definitely hated them at times, but they motivated and pushed me like no one else. I would not be anywhere close to the former All-American player, ODP player, invited into a professional team's preseason and current college coach like I am today. Over 15 years ago they took a chance on me and today I am a thankful, proud daughter.