I had a post (or two) all ready to be written for today. But then my daughter got her heart broken, and, well… the words just dried up. All of the blog posts in the world mean nothing when your daughter is sobbing uncontrollably in your arms.

In the end, all I could write was a long and impassioned letter to the powers that be in the soccer world, imploring them to please, please reconsider and let her play her beloved sport this summer. And just for good measure, I let them know just how it feels to watch helplessly as your daughter suffers through a year of injury, surgery, and endless agonizing days watching her sisters and friends play the sports that mean almost as much to her as life itself.

All year, the thing that compelled her forward, the thing that motivated her to do nightly strengthening exercises and drag me to the gym at 6:00 a.m. was one simple dream… to play competitive soccer again in the Spring.

Last night that dream was dashed when the team roster came out and her name was not on it. Her injury (more precisely, the critical recovery period) prevented her from participating in the tryouts and nobody saw it in their hearts to give her a shot based on past performance.

Life can be cruel. It seems even more cruel when it happens to your 14 year old daughter.

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