The Inspiration Behind Soccer and Wild
Long before Soccer & Wild became a book, they belonged to a five-year-old boy’s imagination. I carried those characters with me for decades before finally giving them a story of their own. Sometimes the stories worth telling are the ones we’ve been holding onto all along.
I could never understand how Joey could still have so many words left at the end of the day when I was running on fumes.
One night, exhausted and ready to get through bedtime as quickly as possible, I grabbed the shortest book I could find. I remember thinking that if I could just keep things moving, maybe I could get everyone tucked in before I completely ran out of steam.
Then I looked down and saw that familiar twinkle in Joey’s eye.
“I have a story, Mama.”
“Okay,” I said, opening the book. “Let’s read this one…”
He stopped me.
“No. I want to tell you a story.”
Deep breath.
“Okay. Tell me your story.”
And that was the beginning.
He told me about a little boy named Soccer, who was out walking his pet.
“A dog?” I asked.
“No. His pet alligator.”
“Well, what’s his name?”
“Wild.”
“Okay,” I said. “Go on.”
And go on he did.
For the next month or two, Soccer and Wild returned night after night. Their adventures always seemed to include a yellow helicopter, daring rescues, incredible stunts, and some new way of helping someone along the way.
At the time, I thought I was just listening to one more bedtime story.
I had no idea I was being handed one I would carry for decades.
“At the time, I thought I was just listening to one more bedtime story. I had no idea I was being handed one I would carry for decades.”
Someday, I’ll Write That Story
I’ll bet I’m not the only one who has carried a special memory, story, or moment around for years, looking for a way to share it.
This story was deeply special to me.
It came from my son.
The characters he created were catchy and memorable.
And the helicopter? Of course they flew around in it.
I knew I had to write this one for Joey.
I talked about it, dreamed about it, and mulled it over for more than 25 years. The time kept slipping away, but my desire to make it happen never did.
There were always excuses.
Someday, I’ll write that story became my mantra.
But someday kept slipping away.
Too busy.
I’m not an illustrator.
Even if I write it, how would I ever get it printed?
Most childhood stories never become books.
This one almost didn’t either.
“Most childhood stories never become books. This one almost didn’t either.”
Still, I kept thinking: there must be a way.
And Then, Once Upon a Time Happened
Finally, it happened.
I saw a way forward and decided I was going to figure it out. No more excuses.
Somehow, all the watercolor stars aligned.
I retired.
People often talk about retirement as more travel, more golf, more time with the grandkids—and all of that is true.
But I quickly discovered something else: you can fill your days just as easily in retirement as you can when you’re running in a million circles in the corporate world.
If I was really going to make this book happen, I couldn’t just wait for the time to appear.
I had to make room for it.
And I had to do three things.
Make Space for Creativity
Creativity needs somewhere to land.
For years, Soccer & Wild lived in the back of my mind while life kept moving. There was always something more urgent demanding my attention.
Retirement gave me more time, but it didn’t automatically give me creative time.
I had to choose it.
“Retirement gave me more time, but it didn’t automatically give me creative time. I had to choose it.”
I had to sit down. Turn off the noise. Let myself play with words and pictures. And give an old story permission to become something new.
Before I was ready to tackle the story I had carried for more than 25 years, I decided I needed a little practice.
So I started with Beau.
Little Beau Bear and His Curious Hair became my first children’s book—and, without realizing it at the time, my training ground.
It gave me a place to experiment, make mistakes, change my mind, and discover how much I loved the process.
By the time Beau’s story was finished, I had done more than make a book.
I had made room in my life for a new kind of creativity.
And once that door opened, I wanted to keep going.
Tackle the Tools
Of course, making room to create was only part of it.
Then I had to figure out how to actually make a book.
I learned about ISBNs and self-publishing. Adobe and Canva. Midjourney and AI. Image sizing and formatting. Typography and page design. Bleeds, margins, covers, files, uploads—and a whole new vocabulary I didn’t even know I needed.
My background gave me a bit of a head start. I understood storytelling, design, production, and how all the pieces of a creative project have to work together.
But there was still so much to learn.
There were frustrating late nights. Plenty of do-overs. More than a few moments when I wondered why I had started any of this in the first place.
But every hour taught me something.
Slowly, the tools that had once felt intimidating began to feel familiar.
And, by the way, I eventually went back and revised Beau’s book, too.
Because apparently one lesson I learned along the way is that “good enough” never really is.
With a little more confidence—and a lot more experience—I was finally ready to take off the training wheels and return to the story I had been saving all those years.
This time, I felt ready to get Soccer & Wild just right.
Stay Focused on My Audience of Two
This may have been the most important part.
It was easy to start thinking about whether other people would like the book.
Would children think it was funny?
Would parents buy it?
Was it good enough?
Was it polished enough?
But Soccer & Wild didn’t begin with an audience.
It began with a five-year-old boy telling his mom a bedtime story.
So whenever I started overthinking it, I came back to the two people who mattered most:
Joey then.
Joey now.
If the book could honor the imagination of that little boy—and give the grown man he became a piece of his childhood to hold onto—then I had done what I set out to do.
The Legacy Lottery
This picture is worth a thousand words.
Joey reading Soccer & Wild with his daughter, Maddie
I care deeply about leaving a legacy.
What I didn’t anticipate was the gift of living your legacy while you’re still here to see it.
Watching Joey and Maddie open that book and read it together was one of those moments.
A story that began in his imagination as a little boy had become something he could now share with his own child.
A gift rooted in real life.
A memory preserved.
A story passed on.
“What I didn’t anticipate was the gift of living your legacy while you’re still here to see it.”
I hit the jackpot.
And that’s why I write.
I can already imagine more Soccer & Wild adventures someday.
Maybe even a series built around the fruit of the Spirit as superhero powers:
Love.
Joy.
Peace.
Patience.
Kindness.
Goodness.
Faithfulness.
Gentleness.
Self-control.
And, of course, each grandchild would need a starring role.
I’ll only need five more.
Who knows?
Maybe one day my grandchildren—or even great-grandchildren—will write stories of their own and add another chapter to this little family legacy.
So many possibilities.
Some grandmas knit.
Some grandmas bake.
Some grandmas do crafts.
This grandma likes to golf, play mahjong, and, most of all, share stories.
I’m so glad Joey planted a seed all those years ago.
It took a long time to take root.
But now, it just keeps growing.
Continue the Journey
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