As far as I could remember my family has always been there for me. When I was sad, when I was mad, and when I was happy, it would usually be because of them. I can’t remember one time when they weren’t there for me.
We lived in a nice city in the Bay Area named San Lorenzo. My name is Sergio and my family doesn't  exactly have all the money in the world, but my parents have always given my brothers; Pedro, Lionel and I, everything we have ever needed. I’m the middle child, younger than my brother Lionel, who's 18 years old, and who everyone calls Leo, but older than my brother Pedro, who's 9 years old. I’m 17 years old and I go to San Lorenzo High School in San Leandro, a city about 5 minutes from where I live.
Going to church every Sunday has always been a priority in my family's life. My family has always had one rule, God and family before anything else. I pray to God in the good times, bad times, all the time. When my twin sister, Jazmin passed away at five years old from cancer, I had no one to turn to. My father was always working, my mother always crying and never wanting to talk about it, and my older brother would always tell me not to think about it. So I turned to God, and asked for his guidance and strength to get my family through such a hard time. I prayed everyday in the morning when I woke up,and every night before I went to sleep. The first couple of days there was no change, and I was ready to give up and say that god wasn’t listening. Then, out of nowhere a priest arrived at my house, and gave us great news. He told us that god had spoken to him, and had him tell us that Jazmin is safe and happy where she is now. Immediately, tears ran down the face of my mother with a slight smile. I hadn't seen my mother smile in months. From that day forward God always came first in my life regardless, and I dedicate every game of the sport that I love, to Jazmin.
      My father loved soccer and played since he was 7 years old, unlike my mother who only likes soccer because all of her kids played. My dad was pretty talented and played with passion from what everyone tells me. When my father was 14 years old he was invited to play for the Youth Mexican National Soccer Team, but couldn’t play because my grandfather didn't let him. For he needed him to stay and work to help support his family. This makes my brothers and myself grateful for everything we have in our life, and the little things that my parents give us like allowing us to even play soccer.
When I was six years old my dad enrolled me in a competitive soccer team called California Northstars, and I’ve been playing ever since. At such a young age, it actually made me want to one day become a professional soccer player. My brother Leo, never liked playing soccer, nor did he like going to school. He’s never been the smart one in the family and he’s most certainly never had the best grades. Leo played since he was about six or seven years old, but stopped when he was about my age because my dad pressured him way too much. Ever since he quit he started getting into some pretty crazy things at and outside of school. Leo was really good on the field and had a great talent, much like my dad when he was younger, only Leo never actually enjoyed playing the game.
      Pedro, on the other hand is the complete opposite. He enjoys playing soccer and going to school. However, since he is only nine years old I’m sure that’ll soon change. When Pedro plays with his age group you can tell that he is naturally more talented than everyone else. He has the ball more than half of the game with no one able to take it away from him, much like My dad, Leo, and myself.
      I’ve always been told that I was talented, but everyone would always end the compliment with telling me that I’m too short. I asked my dad, “Why is it everyone tells me that I'm too short.”
           My dad would always tell me the same thing, “You'll grow whenever your body is ready son.”
           Whenever I would try talking to my mom about it, she would always get offended or avoid answering the question. She would change the subject, or she'd get really mad and would say, “Height means nothing in life. It's what's on the inside that matters. So stop worrying about it.” My height honestly never bothered me, I was actually sort of proud of it. The only thing that bothered me was everyone underestimating me because of it. I was always as good, sometimes better than the kids that were taller and older than me. But no matter how much I would try to prove myself, I would never get the credit that I felt I deserved.
I first started liking soccer when I was about ten years old. Before then I would only play because my dad liked it. Then when I was about twelve years old I played in my Middle school soccer team. My eighth grade year I was selected captain, not by the coach, but by the team. It was one of the best moments of my entire middle school career. Later that year we won championships, and I was awarded all league MVP on National Television.
Now I’m here, the morning of my first day of school at San Lorenzo High School, after transferring from Arroyo High School. I arrive with my brother Leo and my Dad, who once again is coaching the varsity soccer team, and get to class. When I arrive at the enormous campus, like always, I am so much shorter than everyone else. I would expect at least two or three people to be my height or shorter than me. Instead, I was the shortest student in the Junior class. However, I never let it get to me nor did I let anyone pick on me because of my height. When I get there I see some of my teammates Marco and Cristian.
“Marco. Cristian, what’s up.”
“Hey. Sergio? Since when do you go to Slz?,” Cristian asks.
“I just moved here this year, because my Dad thought it’d be easier to have us going to the school he coached at.”
“Oh, well at least we’re going to be better by far, since you and Leo are going to be playing.”
“Yeah I don’t know if Leo is gonna play he’s been kind of out of it lately. He quit soccer a couple of years ago, but anyways I have to go.” I say as the bell rings and we each go to class.
           Thousands of students attending San Lorenzo, you would expect the sports teams to be decent, but they are the complete opposite, except for the soccer team that is. The soccer team has won sections for the past three years because of my dad being the new coach.
            It was Winter time, and Soccer season was approaching. Tryouts are this week and I've never been so excited. The first couple of days we didn’t really do much, we just run a little bit, touch the ball and run some more. The second week is when it really starts, all the scrimmages, games and fun practices. During our warm up there are a couple of guys, Luke and Nick talking about how good they are and that they are too good to be here, so I tell them to play me 2v1 after practice. At first they seemed a little frightened, but then laughed and said that it’s going to be easy. After practice I get a ball and ask Luke and Nick, “You guys want to defend or attack first?”
           “We’ll defend first to give you a chance.”
           I dribble towards Luke cut left pass through Nick’s legs and score.
           “You got lucky! Try and stop us.”
           Luke starts off the ball, he passes it to Nick and runs forward. I jog to Nick and wait for him to make a move, before he can cut right I take the ball and score again.
           I get home later that night to my mother and my older brother Leo sitting at the table. From the looks of things I knew Pedro or Leo were going to be in some deep trouble. My mother looks at me and tells me that Leo was caught doing drugs at school. Surprised, not knowing what to say or who to look at, I only find myself saying, “Wow.”
           “Due to this situation I think it's time for Leo to start playing soccer again, so he can spend some time interacting with people, to get his mind off other things,” my mother said angrily.
           “I think that is a great idea, I'm sure he'll enjoy playing like he used to, if he's still got it anyways.”
           “Well I think you're overreacting and I don't want to play soccer again. Why can't I ever do something I choose!”
           “Well that's what we've been letting you do for the past ten years and look where that has gotten you.”
           Although my brother does not want to play, I was excited to finally be able to play on the same team as him. I never actually got to see him play because of how young I was. The next day at practice, we’re put on the same team and yes, my brother still had it. Together the other team just couldn't stop us, because of our speed and our way of playing. I've never seen Leo more happy in my life, he was so joyful and actually smiling, instead of being indoors on his phone or outdoors doing god knows what.
          I never really had a problem with my height  until I realized I was going to play on varsity tomorrow against some of the biggest kids I've ever played. It's not that I was scared of playing, but I knew that if I was taller it would help me out a lot. I am fourteen years old and I am 5’0, it's not everyday you see that. The next day at my game my brother and I were playing amazing, we had the other team on lock down, and were getting in some good plays. Only the other team's players were so tall when they run they’d elbow me in the mouth every time they moved their arms by accident. We ended up winning 2-0 with goals from both my brother and myself. Although we won I was starting to become a bit self conscious about, my height.
          I tried not to say anything to my parents, but it was really starting to bother me for some reason and was holding me back from playing at the top of my game. I finally asked my parents, “Why am I so much shorter than everyone else my age and most of the people younger than me."
          “Son I told you already, you will grow when your body is ready,” Answers my father
          “No. I'm tired of the same answer over and over, I want to know. Why is it that only me and Papa Arturo (My Grandpa) are the only short ones in the family. The rest of you are average or tall.”
          “Martin I think it's time,” My mother tells my father.
          “I don't think he's ready Teresa.”
          “We knew we had to tell him at one point.”
          “What! What are you both talking about?” I yelled.
          “Look son, when you were born you were diagnosed with growth hormone deficiency, that was passed on to you from Papa Arturo. After the age of 11 you stopped growing because we couldn't pay for your medicine.”
           At that very moment I felt like I have been living a lie. I know that it probably wasn't that big of a deal, but it really got to me. Knowing that my entire life I was going to stay 5’3, the size of a 6th grader. The next few games I began to play worse. I was missing the ball, not going for header, and getting pushed around. All because of some stupid sickness my grandpa passed down to me. After my dad gave me the news I felt like a part of me was missing, and I felt everyone was always staring at me.
          At the end of the season we didn't make it to playoffs because of how terribly I played, and didn't help out. It was a hard time in my life, it affected me way more than I thought it would. Everyday my parents would try to comfort me, but I couldn't even look at them because of how angry I was that they had kept it from me all along. At practice, I would talk to my dad but only about soccer. For at the moment he was only my coach, not my dad.
           Everyday I prayed to god praying for strength to get through such a hard time in my life. Once again I didn't receive a sign nor a response of any kind from god, so I was ready to give up. But on that very same day on December 14, 2015 my dad got a phone call.
          My dad didn't move and was not responding to whoever he was on the phone with.. “What’s wrong dad? Who is it?” That was the first time I'd spoken to my dad in days.
          The smile on my Dad’s face was priceless. Never before had I seen him this excited. “That was a scout in Mexico. He said he saw you play a couple weeks ago and thinks you have a really bright future. He wants us to fly to Mexico so you can try out for their national team.”
          “What! Are you kidding me! But I was born in the US how am I gonna play for the Mexican team?”
          “That doesn't matter you can easily become a Mexican citizen and be eligible to play for them.”
          “What's going on?” Pedro walks into the kitchen rubbing his eyes.
          “Pedro. Mijo, pack your bags, we're going to Mexico!”
          “Really! When! Why?”
          “What is going on in here? My mom and Leo walk in the kitchen.
          “Teresa, Leo, Sergio has been invited to Mexico to try out for their youth national team.”
          “No way,” Leo says unconvinced.
          “I told you my son! Height doesn't matter. You're 5’3 and look where you are being invited to.” A part of me felt like it was too good to be true. I wasn’t used to good things happening, so I didn’t get too excited.
A couple of days after on December 17, my family flies to Mexico to spend Christmas with my family over there, but my Dad and Leo come with me to the try outs, while my Mom and Pedro go to my Aunt Elena’s house. When I arrive the coach walks over to my dad and says, “I’ve heard many great things about Sergio and Leo. But from what I heard Leo is already 18 years old correct?”
“That’s right. He turned 18 in last month.”
“Well that’s disappointing, we were actually very interested in Leo too. Anyways you must be Sergio. I hear you are very talented on the pitch. Are you ready to show me what you got?”
“Yes sir.” I answer nervously.
I jog over to the rest of the team, and introduce myself in spanish, “My name is Sergio,”
“Hey Sergio,” one guy tells me as he is stretching out. His name was Feliciano, he is their centre forward and the league's top scorer. Already I knew that if I made the team we would be unstoppable.
The practice is about to begin but first the coach grabs me and introduces me to the rest of the team, “This is Sergio, I’m sure you have all heard of him from all over the news in California.” They have heard of me? I think to myself. I always knew that I was pretty talented, but I didn’t know that the Mexican Youth National Team has heard of me. Throughout the practice I feel I am doing good, and so does the coach since he is smiling excitedly at me the entire time. It was getting a little creepy, but I would smile back. “Congratulations Sergio, you're in.” I run over to my dad and tell him the news, he grabs me and begins to cry a little.
“I knew you could do it. I knew it.”
“I only have one question, before we sign anything though. Will you grow in the coming years Sergio?” Immediately all my excitement, and happiness faded away. I looked at him, and walked away. I knew it was too good to be true, I actually believed something good was going to happen to me.
“No. He is not.” My father answers as he holds me from walking any further, “Sergio was diagnosed with growth hormone deficiency when he was 4, and we don’t have the money to pay for the medicine he needs.”
“Why is your head down Sergio? Do you think I’m gonna let a small problem like that get in the way of having one of the greatest 17 year old boy I’ve seen play the game?” I look at the coach confused.
“But my family can’t pay for the medicine that I need.”
“Well that’s what I’m here for.”
“What?” My Dad and I both ask at the same time.
“I will pay for your medicine so long as you play for this team.”
“Are you serious?”
“This isn’t something I would joke about.”
My father and I thank the trainer and go to my Aunt’s house where Pedro, my Mom and my cousins are waiting for us to tell them the news. “He made it,” my father says in a quiet voice. My family begin hugging and screaming with joy. I’ve never been so excited in my life, my first game was actually that same week against Portugal. “Does that mean Sergio is going to live in Mexico now?” asks Pedro.
“Well we talked about it on the way over here. Sergio and Leo are both going to be living in Mexico, until Sergio is old enough to live on his own,” my parents say.
On the day of my first game, minutes before kickoff I walk onto the field and get on my knees to pray just like at every game. “Father please help me on my first pro soccer match. Jazmin this is for you.” I get up and hear the whistle blow for kickoff it had begun. The first couple of minutes I’m playing terrible, probably because of how nervous I was. In the second half I was more relaxed, started connecting a few passes and ended the game 3-0 scoring a hat trick. It was the greatest experience of my life. Later that day Leo, who is now my agent gets a phone call from Pachuca FC. They say that they want me to play on their team, and are willing to negotiate as soon as possible.
A week later Leo and I drive to Pachuca to speak to the manager. He offered 25,000 pesos to start, and we'll go from there. It was a done deal and my coach from the national team couldn’t have been more happy for me.
On January 2nd, Leo and I drive our parents and little brother to the airport. My mother and Pedro crying give us a big hug and start getting ready to leave. “I’ve never been so proud of both of you. I expect both of you to enroll in a school here, and continue your education, got it?”
“Yes sir.” Leo and I smile at each other.
“Thanks for everything Pa, I’m just glad we can make you guys proud, I promise we'll go visit at least once every two months.”
“You better.”
Pedro and my parents walk into the plane, while Leo and I go back to my Aunt’s house, where we will be living until we graduate school.