When I was very young, maybe 5 years old, I enlisted in one of the great pastimes of American childhood: the town soccer league.
Twice a week—once for practice, once for a game—my parents shuttled me to the small field behind our elementary school, dropped me off wearing a jersey and hand-me-down cleats, and watched me scamper toward the other girls, while the coach (usually somebody’s dad) fruitlessly attempted to corral us into formation.
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