Diary of a young professional athlete

My daughter played her first season of professional soccer in Spain’s 3rd division last season (2024/25) and had an excellent time. She didn’t speak a lick of Spanish when she arrived, so the first six months were hard. Plus, she did not get along with the coach. He was a shouter and socially awkward, two things a group of driven young women don’t deal with well. 
 
The team had players from Paraguay, Columbia, Brazil, Argentina, Holland, and Spain. Only the Dutch girl spoke some English. She would help explain things to my daughter, who would also hang back at training when drills were held because she needed to watch a few repetitions first to figure out what was required.
 
Nonetheless, the team bonded well in an us-versus-the-coach scenario and they set all kinds of records by winning the league championship with a record number of points and goals scored.

She was the tallest player on the team at 5'10", with a strong, sturdy build and a low center of gravity—traits that made her an absolute handful for defenders. You can see the size difference in the image to the left. The player in green and white stripes is the Sevilla opponent trying to keep up.

Opposing players would regularly bounce off her in hip-to hip and shoulder-to-shoulder challenges, and more than a few matches were stopped for trainers to treat opponents who came off second-best after trying to dispossess the tall, blonde Canadian girl. ​But physical dominance became a liability in its own way. The referees—typical of Spain’s third division—often penalized her simply because the opponents couldn’t handle her strength. On top of that, there’s a cultural element

Spanish players are well-versed in the theatrical side of the game. Flopping, rolling, and screaming on contact is practically a skill set, and unfortunately, with inconsistent officiating, it often worked.
My daughter, being Canadian, has a different threshold—she’ll only go down if her leg has been reduced to a stump hanging by a thread. By the end of the season, she’d learned to flop as well, but never got a free kick for it. She was simply too bad of an actor. Opponents however knew they could drape themselves all over her and kick her shins to pieces without consequences.

My daughter is a striker and racked up goals (18 for the season) so the local media noticed her. She appeared in news reports and the club made her and a Brazilian teammate the models on the club’s merchandise web page.

I took a sabbatical from my university to join my daughter in Spain for the last five games of the season. That also meant joining in the post-season civic celebrations, where sponsors, politicians, and community leaders honoured the team’s accomplishments—which included a special church mass where we received commemorative programs and images of the Virgin Mary.

Despite an offer from the club to stay, her differences with the coach made it impossible. So, as her business manager, I worked with her agent in Barcelona to find a new club. We explored opportunities across Spain, France, and Portugal, and were fortunate to receive four offers. She’s now signed a one-year contract with a team in Spain’s first division. For those interested in how advertise yourself to new clubs, it's through a highlight reel. When clubs see player they like, they reach out to that player's agent and negotiations begin.

Pre-season begins August 1, and she’s back in Vancouver preparing—training twice a day on her own. Fortunately, the soccer infrastructure here is strong. She’s working with coaches tied to the Canadian women’s national team and an Australian sports trainer with pro-rugby experience whom she met by chance in Spain

If all goes well, I’ll be able to return to Spain  in April 2026 for the final stretch of the season.