By Angela Williams Glenn 
I’ve watched a kid of mine in the hot box of the goalkeeper’s box for close to a decade now.
It’s a nerve-racking position. Though there are other players on the field, in the fast intensity of the game, it’s easy not to catch their mistakes.
But when that ball is coming at the goalkeeper, all eyes are on the goalie. Their mistakes aren’t just missed, they’re on the grand stage under the watchful eye of every person, from both sides, watching that game. They are in the spotlight whether they want to be or not.
I’m just their parent, holding my breath, with no control over the outcome of whether they make a speculator play to stop that goal or if it’s the one that slips through.
Sometimes stopping that goal or not is the difference in winning or losing a game or getting to go on to the next. For a held breath, that little goalkeeper has the power to determine the outcome of the game for both teams.
That’s some pretty intense pressure for young people to bear. Yet game after game, year after year, I watch the goalie face that pressure. The calm facade in which they intensely stare down the approaching opponent, arms up, dancing on their feet, ready to anticipate the shot and make the save convinces us all in the stands they got this.
Sometimes a shot is blocked and the crowd roars in approval of the goalie and other times, the ball gets through to the back of the net and the goalie is left feeling a moment of defeat as the crowd collectively groans.
But no matter how many goals were saved or how many weren’t, the biggest victory in watching the goalie year after year, is seeing them learn defeat is only temporary.
The game doesn’t stop for them to get down on themselves long; they have to rise back up, shake it off, get back in that box ready to save the next shot because they will keep coming and one missed save isn’t enough to keep them down.
You see the heart of a goalie start to take shape—their resilience to push forward in the face of defeat, their unshakable determination to defend that goal, and their courage to be the last final defender between the team’s opponent and their reach for victory.
As the parent I may sit here, heart beating, breath held, hands clenched on the edge of seat, excitement and dread coexisting in the pit of my stomach as I anxiously wait to see if this is the shot that’s saved or slips through, but I leave every game proud of my goalie for stepping in that box to be his or her team’s last line of defense.
by Sarah Clouser 
by Caroline Murray 
