As a shy little girl in the rural village of Haute-Rivoire, France, Carole Ponchon was never known to have a teddy bear that she loved to bits, preferring instead to take a soccer ball to bed with her. From a very young age, she had her heart set on getting onto the soccer field, though there was no league for her to join until the age of six. When she was finally old enough to sign up, she was the only girl on the team, but, rather than dampening her competitive spirit, this fueled it. “Imposing myself in a male environment was less a problem than a motivation,” says Carole. “I never felt stronger than when I would hear parents shouting from the sidelines, ‘C’mon, don’t get beaten by a girl!’” On the field, she felt transformed. When she laced up her cleats, the shy, bookworm side of Carole stayed on the bench. “[Soccer] was a way of expressing the wild part of me,” she says. “It helped me show people—and, more importantly, myself—that I could do anything.” At 13, Carole began playing goalkeeper for a women’s soccer team in another village, competing with players who were in their 20s and 30s. “Even as a child, I liked to face difficulties. Playing [soccer] helped me to build my identity, to free myself, and to channel my anger. On the field, I wasn’t the shy Carole, but the fierce Carole.”