. . .And Beyond

I spent 20 of my 25 years between the lines with my sister Sarah. From the beginning, number 4 and 5, me and Sarah, Sarah and Rachel, were stuck in the middle - we were stuck in the middle of a family of 8, stuck in the middle of the painted lines - the painted lines on the dirt, on the grass, on the wooden planks and on the green turf. I spent 20 of my 25 years in between the painted lines, the painted lines that joined to form the structure of a house that became the foundation of a home - the home of two sisters, Sarah and Rachel, the home of two athletes. We spent our childhood in between the painted lines building our home. And our home became more than home - it was a place of fierce competition, a battlefield of stubborn wills. Our home was a place of joy and fun; a playground of laughter and dreams.Our home was a place of peace and spirituality, a sanctuary of quiet prayer. And as we grew up, our home became our office, a place of work and diligence. Home was more than home -

Image Redefined United States Olympian, Current National Team Member, and Mom, Keli Puzo is revolutionizing the image of the American Hockey Athlete Eighteen years from now, Xavi Puzo like many American teenagers will head off to college. He will be a handsome, bilingual young man embarking on his college journey with a fire in his eyes – a fire that is born of his roots, Pennsylvania and Barcelona, and bred of his modernly iconic and vibrant parents, Keli Smith and Inako Puzo. And if the oracles have their way, the fire in his eyes will set ablaze the teenaged promise land of dorm rooms, late night ‘study’ sessions, cafeteria food, and freedom. The oracles know, because they, like many in the USA Field Hockey community, have witnessed the very same force of fire in the eyes of Keli Puzo as she has set ablaze the traditional image of an ‘American Field Hockey Player’ and redefined it. Mother. Wife. Athlete. Determined, Competitor. Who is Keli Puzo? Before matches, she straightens her

And sail they did, through the night. Through the night by the moonlight. And when the morning broke, and when the children awoke, it was Logan in Red, who first spoke. “As you, my comrades, slept, I served my duty, and peace I kept. For in the night upon us fell a terrible fright. A monster, a goon, an alien of the moon, the worst sort of undelight; it was a villain of the most gruesome sight. Where it came from, I cannot say, but the events unfolded in quite a peculiar way. It had begun in the dream, or so it seemed, for all was well, the sea sat calm, without the slightest swell. For we, the courageous four, had just set sail from the bay’s shore. Traveling for a time, slowly did we unwind, beneath the stars and moon, trusting danger did not loom. It was I standing at the mast, when a shadow upon me was cast. I thought nothing of it, a shadow of the night; that was it. But then, as I stood by the sail, suddenly, in my right ear, I heard a piercing wail. So to my left I did turn, an

Four pairs of legs dangled over the dock, while the minds of four children were entranced by the ticking tock of the bays clock. Bored and tired these four children had become, because it seemed their great plan was slowly coming undone. All day long, the four children had sat by the bay, patiently waiting for their ship to come so they could sail away. For today they had intended, to sail to world’s never known, and never pretended. But the sun had slowly faded, and their eagerness, like month old milk, had become dated. The youngest Ellis of Yellow leaned upon William of Green who sat nestled, as if in bed, beside Logan of Red. And all of them rested upon, Kylie of Pink who carried upon her shoulders the weight of the kitchen sink. She thought, “How has this day become so long? I cannot remember when the sun last met the breaking dawn. Nearer now seems that the sun shall be set. And, oh no, oh no, the goal of our task is not yet met. What, now, shall we do? Will we be able to save th

The reflection in the looking glass - it is a contradiction of sorts, for how can a thing appear to be completely itself while being the complete opposite of itself. The looking glass creates, what appears to be, an illusion. The illusion is created by the looking glass’s reflexive, almost magic, properties that enable a person to perceive a clear image of self. In life, sometimes, we encounter people whose presence provides us with this reflexive perspective. A contradictory perspective, so to speak – of something being the opposite and the same. If our lives were Shakespearan plays, we would call these people our character foils - a person who is quintessentially different yet remarkably the same as the other. And because of these contrasts and parallels, foils provide a lens for creating a more definitive image of a person. It was 5 am Tuesday May 11. Sleepy-eyed, and sleep deprived, a mob of blue-Asic clad zombies (also known as Hockey players) slowly trickled their way to the Ame

This is my first draft of a video submission to become the next Nike Field Reporter for Nike Women dot com. Let me know what you think.

For one night, and one day, the world turned orange. The people gathered in the small cobble-stoned streets of the city by the sea to hail the queen of the little land. And they all wore her color. The color of her passion, red, combined with the color of her lightness, yellow, to create the symbolic Dutch color of the Royal House of Orange. And so, on this night, April 30th, as they do every year, the army of orange amassed in the streets of the Queen’s city, Den Haag, smiling and dancing, embracing their freedom. And for what purpose did the people dance? Well, in anticipation of the birthday of the Queen’s mother. For, in a time not too long ago, the former Queen Julianna (mother of the current Queen Beatrix) on her “verjaardag” gave her people a gift - she gave them the gift of celebration. And by sharing the celebration of her birthday with the people of her land, she broke the barrier between the Royals and the common man. And now, as this holiday known as Queen’s Night and Day h

On Easter Sunday a 7.2 earthquake rocked Baja, Mexico; a few miles away in Chula Vista, California, the reverberations shook the home of six women who had gathered with their teammates, friends, and family to celebrate the holiday. To these six women the powerful Baja quake seemed like an aftershock - an aftershock to the shattering blow that reality had delivered a day prior to their dream of proving themselves as world contenders in their sport. Reality stung. They had failed in their conquest. They lost the game. Two tectonic plates shifted against each other – the tectonic plates of incongruous dreams and realities. And the result was that the ground trembled beneath their feet as the sturdiness of their dream was compensated. Would the dream buckle under the duress? Like that home in Chula Vista, they swayed and shook, but in the end, they remained in place. They did not crumble. Because the structure of their dream had been built, like most Californian homes, to withstand the dur

I wanted to say Thank you to my sister Hannah for contributing this great piece. Writing must be a family skill because she has composed such a beautiful, funny, and thoughtful piece. At first, I didn't want to post this on my blog, but blog's are all about sharing, and I want to share with you my sister's moving words. Thank you so much, Hannah. (Note - as the owner of this blog, I have given my commentary IN CAPS on Hannah's words) Rachel’s 100th BY HANNAH DAWSON (Couldn’t think of a catchy title) Walking into practice, I hear the voice of one of my coaches, “Hey did you hear about Rachel?” In my mind I’m running through the list of sisters, Natalie, Sarah, Rachel. Okay so I keep thinking what is so special about Rachel that I didn’t know? Still I am thinking, her birthday isn’t until August; she’s single (ANY INTERESTED TAKERS??), so she’s not engaged or expecting for that matter. Time ran out, my coach’s voice started pouring out with enthusiasm, “She got her 100th

The USA had just tied Korea 2-2 in the fourth game of the World Cup Qualifier. Despite the physical exhaustion of the hard fought battle, an energetic buzz pervaded the air as the team waited, in anticipation, for Lee Bodimeade to conclude a post-game interview. Purveying the scene, some distinguishable things stuck out - a bottle of wine, a blue Tiffany’s bag, a bouquet of flowers, and a collage of smiles directed toward one special teammate. The team was eager to celebrate the milestone achievement of their teammate, and friend, Sara “Betty” Silvetti, who in her resilient, determined and cheery manner had earned her 100th Cap wearing the Red, White, and Blue. And as they waited, Betty shared the joy of the celebration, entertaining her teammates while posing with her massive vase of flowers. And in that action, the essence of Betty’s presence on Team USA is understood. Sara Silvetti is the ultimate team player. Genuine, trusted, willing and able, she possesses an irrepressible glow t

Stream of Consciousness Let me forewarn you, I am tired. Not too sure why – like most Americans I have been trying to catch up with my debt, my sleep debt that is. And I have been provided with ample opportunity to do so since moving into the Town & Country, our tour mode, San Diegan home for the duration of the Qualifier. But still, it doesn’t change the fact that I am tired. And although it is a good, victory-filled tired, I am still tired. And if there is one thing I hate more than being tired – its being tired and filled with ideas. Because, let me tell you I have tons of ideas, brilliant ideas (at least they seem to be brilliant right now) running through my head. I have ideas for great posts, for post hockey careers, for exotic travels, for different creations - ideas, ideas, ideas, too many ideas running around upstairs - but honestly, my ideas are just threads right now, tangled up in a big ball in my head. I am too tired to untangle the ideas right now. So, needless to s

Horse Play A Horse walks into a bar. Bartender says, “Why the long face?” That’s the classic ice breaker joke told by Lee Bodimeade when we have extra time on the warm-up clock before a match. (If the joke confuses you, no worries – we usually are too when he tells it. I guess it’s supposed to be funny). But after the unreal, crazy events of yesterday evening in Chula Vista, I have a new Horse Joke: 11 Horses Run into the Olympic Training Center. Blue-Tooth Front Security Man says, “Sorry, No Horse Play Here.” So here’s my press release: Horse Herd Heads to Hockey Event Wandering Wild Horses jumped the Mexican border yesterday and sought freedom to playfully graze in the Olympic fields of southern California. Four wild Mexican horses, led by an undaunted leader, staged a successful hoist of a nearby California Coral and stampeded their way through the paved, palm tree lined streets of Chula Vista, California yesterday evening en route to the Olympic Training Center. In an up-close, pos

It’s the month of March. The Month of Madness. And much madness is brewing between the painted lines of the wooden court, as mockery is made of the meaning of ESPN’s Master Science, Bracketology. My Kings, the Tar Heel Kings of the year past, shall be dethroned, and that I doth bemoan but the mission of the Madness remains the same – determine the kings who will sit upon the throne of Hoops - a 1, 2, 4, or maybe a 10, could claim the fame. Ok. It doesn’t matter much to me. My bracket is toast – stale toast, Villanova was my chosen King, and Kansas his heir. Both were beheaded by the axe of lower seeds. So before I lose my cool, lets talk about another type of Madness, The Madness of the Mad Hatter in the world of a girl named Alice. Last week I saw Tim Burton’s version of the Lewis Carrol Classic, Alice in Wonderland. As a child, Alice had it sorted out - she was all that and a bag of chips. But chips don’t age like wine, and Alice must have left her back of chips open too long, becaus

On Monday morning I arrived at Amsterdam Schipol Airport way too early for my flight back to the USA (I missed a flight back to the States last year, and since that experience, I have become incredibly diligent about giving myself ample time before flight departure). So with an hour to spare before the check-in counter opened, I decided to post up at the Schipol Starbucks with a coffee. (Where else could be better to reacquaint myself with America??) So for those of your who don't know me, here's a fun fact - A good cup of joe is one of the prime motivating forces in my life. Coffee taps into my soul, and powers my mind to understand the world's most perplexing mystery's(ok, I'm exaggerating, only a little though). So, as I sat over my coffee, I started to reflect on the past three weeks of my life which included a 13 day tour through Argentina and a 10 day excursion to Holland. Yes, the travel was a bit intense, but also incredibly eye-opening. In my reflection, so

The USA Women’s Field Hockey Team resumed training today in Chula Vista having enjoyed a short respite after our tour to Argentina. Unfortunately, much to my dismay, I am not with my teammates at the moment. Instead, I am a few thousand miles away, in a small European country called Holland (also known as the Netherlands). Before I delve into this blog post, I need to preface you with a bit of my personal story. Post 2008 Olympics, I pursued an opportunity to live and compete overseas at the Hockey Club Klein Switzerland in Den Haag, Netherlands. So the past year and a half, or so, I have been living between America and Holland. I joke that I am 1/3 feline, seeing as I live three lives; one in Holland, one at home in New Jersey, and one wherever the National Team requires. Anyhow, after the tour to Argentina (and a 25 hour trip back to America), I spent 2 nights in my former life (in North Carolina), and then hopped a plane over the Atlantic to my Dutch life. The second half of the Dut

Terry Walsh stood at the easel at the center of the hallway (which served as a makeshift meeting room). On the easel sat a large blank sheet of crisp white paper. 18 pairs of captivated, curious eyes stared at the Hockey Master, Walsh, waiting for him to reveal yet another secret, magical, and simple key to sporting success. Terry paused, in the dramatic way of a stage performer, inhaling deeply – his lips curling together in confirmation of the potency of the information he was about to disclose. He exhaled, and just as we thought that he was about to reveal his magical wisdom, he held the silence a moment longer. We held our breaths, daring not to break the growing suspense of the silence. Then, Terry turned his back from us, moved his pen to the paper, and wrote one word boldly across the paper’s face. Stepping back from the easel, Terry whispered his magical word . . . CONFIDENCE. A shiver rushed down my spine. This was the missing piece. The missing piece to puzzle started long ag

Childhood. Where is that place - that place of freedom, of imagination? Where lies that open field of fearlessness where the uninhibited state of innocence invigorates the soul’s astute awareness of the limitlessness of life? The rain was falling like grand pearly pellets from the sky, breaking their form only when they collided with the ground. The team sat huddled under the protection of the dugout, gazing upon the flooded turf wondering whether practice would be or would not be. They watched the rainfall from behind an invisible vale of separation – a vale constructed from some unconscious fear of rain. Crowded together, the masses waited for someone to tell them what to do. Waiting. Watching. The torrential rain continued to taunt the team. “I will not give you respite. I will not stop. I will continue to pour upon your playing field, pounding it with my pearly, pellets of power.” The team heard the rain’s message. They started to grow restless. And then, in a courageous stand agai

Tension is a powerful force. In my 10th grade physics class, I had to build a model rubber band car. Unfortunately, (unlike my older brother Andrew) I do not possess the gift of mechanics, so my first attempt at rubber band car building failed miserably. The car was supposed to travel down the length of the hallway (at least 25 meters) – and if I remember correctly mine went about 4. The idea behind the rubber band car was simple – the rubber band was attached to one end of the car. In order to move the car forward, the band was coiled around the axel of the wheel on the opposite end (I can’t remember specifically which axel, front or back, but that is insignificant to my story). The car was supposed to move on the principle of converting potential energy (in the form of tension) into usable energy – when the band was released, the tension created a force that was supposed to propel the car forward. The key was to coil the band as tightly as possible around the axel, creating as much

Kayla Bashore saw the large bouquet of beautiful flowers when she stepped off the team bus at the Club de Campo Hockey Club in Cordoba, Argentina. When she came to Argentina last week, she knew she was in the 90s; but upon seeing the flowers, she realized tonight was her night – tonight, she was to join the Century Club. Teammate, and good friend, Lauren Crandall walked up to Bashore, gave her a squeeze, and offered her congratulations. It was then that Bashore, more casually known as KB, was overcome with the significance of the night. Emotion overwhelmed her as her mind traveled back to a time 5 years prior. The scene was similar. There was a buzz of excitement in the air; loud Spanish music pumped vibrantly through the venue – the light of day was giving way to the darkness of night as the stadium lights shun upon the reason for the gathering, the green hockey pitch. A roaring, enthusiastic, and patriotic Argentine crowd filled the stands in eager anticipation of the match between A

The advent and commercialization of the internet, specifically the recent growth of social media networks like facebook and twitter, have challenged the hierarchy of tour leisure activities undertaken by the members of the USA field hockey team. Facebooking, which falls under the more general category of internet play, is closing the gap on the team’s number one tour past-time, good ‘ole, traditional r-e-a-d-i-n-g. Yes folks, believe it or not, book reading (and by book, if you have forgotten what they are, I mean those long stories composed of related words on touchable paper, bound together in either paperback or hard back) still has a stronghold on spot number one. It makes me proud to know we are a team who values substance. I have taken it upon myself to perform some research into the “substance” of which we are reading. My research has led me to some interesting questions and conclusions regarding the relationship between who you are and what you read. Remember that saying, “You

Jacki Kintzer stood in the elevator with USA National team mate Katelyn Falgowski after the team’s pre-match meeting. As the elevator doors closed, Kintzer turned to Falgo and said nervously, “Lee (headcoach) told me I was in green. I don’t have a green jersey; I only have a yellow one.” Falgo smiled, and reassured her teammate not to worry. Falgo, a young veteran on the national team, knew her University of North Carolina teammate Kintzer would be formally presented with her Green #31 jersey in due course. On February 14, Jacki had earned her stripes with the National Team, getting the call as starting goalkeeper in the team’s match against Argentina. Accordingly, she would be officially presented her USA uniform shirt prior to field departure. The first international cap (first match) is a celebratory moment in the career of a hockey player. It is both a triumph and a reward for the talent and hardwork of years dedicated to the sport – it also marks the start of a new journey represe

My name is Rachel. I am a procrastinator. Its one of my major pitfalls. You see, right about now, I should be packing (and by packing I mean randomly stuffing) my clothes into my travel bag, but instead I find myself writing the blog report. In our first match against Argentina, we fell short of victory - 2 goals short. We played well, strong defensively, but could not get on the scoreboard. So we did not play well enough to earn the W. Tonight we have an opportunity to earn what we left on the table last night. We will play our final match in Mendoza (the home of the Malbec wine) this evening at 7:30 Argentine time. After the match, we have a late night barbeque, followed by a red eye bus trip over the mountains to Cordoba. I am envisioning the bus trip to be "league of our own" style. I could see Lee doing a great rendition of Tom Hanks as Jimmy Dugan, manager of the Rockford Peaches. Growing up it was always one of my favorite movie - the whole sport / sister theme always

Life was swell. The ease of routine seemed to have resettled upon the members of the team as the return of Tuesday training was welcomed by the shining California sun. The rays of that sun peaked through the 8 am morning haze as the hockeyers ascended the hockey hill (the hockey field sits in the valley below the hill). And it seemed that all was well in the world; the entire squad was reunited for a competitive game of powerball and training. But we knew, in the back of our minds, our impending fate. The fate of untimely, teamly separation – the fate of tiresome travel to a foreign land in the lower hemisphere – the fate belonging to the pinnie, tanned hides of those who would endure the hot, humid temperatures of long Argentine days. A fate (un)welcomed by the return of swollen, plane-cramped legs. It was Wednesday, February 11. The day that the training center was departed – and a new journey started. We met at the San Diego airport at midday. The number one topic of conversation -

The USA Women's Field Hockey Team resumed preparation for the 2010 World Cup on January 11, 2010 at the Olympic Training Center in Chula Vista, California. The first order on the menu is earning World Cup Qualification (the WC Qualifier will be held in Chula Vista, CA in March). And lets not fool ourselves, earning Qualification will be no casual stroll in the park; the team will face Pan Am rivals Canada and Mexico, European contenders Belgium and France, and Asian power Korea. So it should be no surprise when I say the team has been served a full plate, both literally and figuratively. Speaking of full plates – you ought to see the OTC Dining Hall. You have to understand, the dining hall at the OTC is a special place – it’s a hub of daily activity with the primary purpose of fueling the bodies of focused, hard training athletes. Its secondary function is purely social – let me tell you, there is nothing like coming together over a good meal after a long day at the office. Recent