Although chances are slim, I hope this letter finds its way to you. I hope when you read these words on the screen you get that awful lump in your throat that I know far too well. I hope my words make you second guess every decision you’ve made coaching before me, coaching me, and coaching after me. I hope you now know that you ruined it for me, my drug of choice, my whole world, my passion. Soccer to this day still holds a special place in my heart and man, do I wish still at my feet. So if you ever read this letter, I want you to know that I don’t entirely blame you because I should have said something, but when you’re 16 years old in a political town, with parents throwing their money left and right, who’s going to listen to a teenager?

If you’re reading this, it’s too late, the truth is published and your secret is out. From the start it was transparent you weren’t meant to work with such a vulnerable age, let alone be one of their biggest influences. Mental health was just another word to you, not taking into consideration just how important it is when you’re expected to be a high demand athlete. You worried about our physical performance, our ball technique, and how many juggles we could do and god forbid, if it wasn’t enough. You were so focused about the score on the board and the records you broke without checking in to see how we were in every other aspect of our lives. Nothing was ever quite good enough for you if we weren’t the star of the team or your favorite. I won’t apologize for not being your favorite, and I count my lucky stars I wasn’t because how much it would suck being told you’re great when you’re not? How much would it suck knowing that your parents paid money for every minute you got on the field, every compliment you ever received was based off the greedy fingers taking check by check to make you seem like you were untouchable? But when you’re 16, 17, 18 you don’t think about the damage that can do, until you’re in college and mommy and daddy’s money doesn’t go so far anymore. That’s the thing with high school coaches, eventually they move up and if they don’t, you should always question why.

I should have told you the damage you were doing, not for the sake that you would change but for me to know I stood up for myself, I stood up for every player who wasn’t "coach’s favorite" or who had rich parents. I should have told you that your insults and your ‘constructive criticism’ was anything but helpful. I should have told you that you took that sparkle out of my game and that that fire in my belly was created by me and me only. I should have never politely stood there and gawked at your winning awards when I knew it was all just for show. I shouldn’t have had to see my teammates crying in the locker rooms after harsh scrutiny or fear that they weren’t good enough. I shouldn’t have to apologize for being mad as hell. My biggest concern in high school shouldn’t have been whether I was on the starting lineup, or would coach compliment me today on my shot that I’ve been practicing alone for weeks. I should have been focusing on college, on me, on loving the game. But, instead you had me worrying before every practice, game, and school day. High School is hard, and soccer was always my getaway, until you. I kick myself for letting something I loved so much become a past memory. I blame you for letting something I loved destroy me. I blame you for allowing me to believe that my mental health and physical well-being meant nothing if I wasn’t killing it on the field. I blame you for taking away my passion, my drive, and my obvious dedication to the game. And, although I blame you for a lot, I also blame myself. I should have stuck up to you, I should have been the voice for myself and my teammates, I should have been stronger but life has a lot of should have’s and should haves can’t always be could haves.

I hope that one day, for the sake of all the athletes you meet and coach that you’ve learned to inspire young people, to help them grow, and achieve. I hope you take into consideration more than their mile time and how many goals they put in the net. I hope you learn that the love for the game will make you do just about anything and you don’t take advantage of that. Before you, I would have killed myself for the game and after you, I did. I hope there is someone like me on your team but stronger, someone who challenges you and calls you out. I hope one day you learn that your job is more important than the name on your paychecks and that you have the ability to shape some of the best people as well as athletes. I don’t blame you for everything, but I will blame you if you don’t change.

Sincerely,

Someone who once loved the game.