There was something different in my daughter's voice, something I had not heard before.

She has been playing soccer now for three years, and last season her team went undefeated. She was far from the star of the team, but she enjoyed her role nonetheless.

While winning and losing are not the only measures of success, clearly she enjoyed her taste of glory. But this is a new year, and she is on a new team, and the season has not been kind to her or her teammates. Still, when she checked her game schedule a few weeks ago, she noted that she would be playing her championship team from last year.

Most of her teammates were "redistributed" to other squads, but at least one remained the same, the coach's daughter. Without hesitation she stated, "I want her."

As I said, my daughter has never been a soccer star, but I got the sense that she had something to prove, to her old coach, whom she loves dearly and to her friend, the coach's daughter, who is the soccer star my daughter aspires to be.

"When she plays forward, I want to defend. I know her moves, I think I can stop her."

These were big words for a little girl I thought to be aimless just a couple of years ago.

Research shows that successful adults all seem to have two things in common when it comes to their childhood. First, they had a minimum of one caring adult present in their life. Second, they were passionate about something … anything.

The caring adult box of my parenting checklist has always had a big black swoosh running through it. In fact, my daughter enjoys a surplus of caring adults, if such a thing is possible. It was the passion box that remained unchecked.

More than anything, I've wanted my daughter to feel what it was like to be completely and utterly absorbed. Like the aspiring poet swimming in a sea of images outside her language arts class, the young violinist dreaming of her first concerto, the ballet dancer twirling from room to room before bed, or the basketball player who falls asleep on the sofa with her ball in her arms. It didn't matter what activity she chose, or if she was any good. I just wanted her to love it.

My wife was much more patient than me. She thought I was crazy to expect so much so soon. She would often tell me, "Be patient, she will find her place and her passion soon enough." I had difficulty believing.

Until last week.

Actually, I should have seen it coming. It seems her passion for the game has been growing each year. In her first season, it was all fun and games, but between matches her interest was limited. Then last year, her coach really pushed her and challenged her to play her best. This year she has found her own motivation and seems hungry to compete. She can't wait to get to practice and is even more excited about game day. Interestingly, the team's struggles have not dampened her interest in the least.

In the end, her friend and former teammate got the better of the match-up, but that did not seem to bother my daughter.

She played tough, and the better team won. After the game, she got a huge hug from her former coach and a high-five from her friend for a game well played.

I watched with a smile on my face, and in my mind, marked the appropriate box: Burning passion: Check.

Michael DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i Myron B. Thompson School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs, two mice and 1,000 worms.Michael DeMattos is on faculty at the University of Hawai'i Myron B. Thompson School of Social Work. Born and raised on the Wai'anae Coast, he now lives in Kane'ohe with his wife, daughter, two dogs, two mice and 1,000 worms.