when
all
I
want
to do
is scream
about the patriarchy
but I know I’d just
perpetuate
a stereotype
what am I supposed to do
when I score a goal on you
and you act like I’m a tree
whose branch luckily swayed
in the right direction
what am I supposed to do
when I tackle you
as well as some dude
but my lack of maleness
makes you stutter
I’m not sorry
that girls can do
what you can do;
I am not sorry
that, sometimes,
we do it better, too.
I am 24 years old,
playing a game I love
more than men
for 20 and have been playing
with them, side by side,
for the same.
I’ve always loved being the underdog.
but why can’t you
just put your head down like you do
when your friend nails a freakin maradona
these things are not so hard to do
when we treat this sport like a drug
admit that it’s mine, too;
that just because your body
can lift 200 pounds doesn’t mean
mine can’t kick your ass
with a soccer ball
that’s all I want:
the chance to come to a game,
ponytail in tow,
and still feel like I belong
to something that was here
long before I called it my own,
long before I learned
that girls aren’t supposed to do
what boys do.
all the friends and teams,
games and sprains, fields
and nails to the head,
bruised knees and toes,
championships and titles later
and these guys still insist
I need to prove myself.
I am not a tree
standing in the wind.
I am a woman–
and a pretty damn good soccer player.
March 4, 2016
