Coach Dad

“They’re 5. How difficult can it be??”

"Drop and give me 50!!"

That’s what I told myself as I drove into the parking lot to coach my first soccer practice 8 weeks ago. I didn’t believe it of course (the thought of multiplying my Molly by 7 made my head spin), but I had to convince myself of this in order to remain calm. When I first heard the Westborough Youth Soccer Association was desperately in need of coaches, it never occurred to me that I should volunteer. After all, I’d never played the game! During my younger days the only thing I knew about soccer was that it involved copious amounts of running, and running was not a favorite activity of mine way back when. I stuck with baseball and basketball, and the closest I got to a soccer field was team manager my senior year of high school. When I pondered the upcoming fall kindergarten season I anticipated leisurely Sundays sitting on the sideline, happily snapping photos with my trusty Canon SLR. But coaching?? Not my cup of tea.

Nonetheless the pleas for volunteers kept coming, and my wife Katie encouraged me to give it a shot. Following a brief introductory meeting and a 1-hour coaches clinic, there I was walking onto the practice field that first day.

It was a rude awakening.Katie watched the practice and assured me it was fine, but all I could see was the negative. I mixed up the names of the two boys with similar heights and hair colors, prompting a snippy “I’m not Luke!”. The drills I tried to implement were just too complicated. I could see the kids staring off at the other fields as we tried to practice, a bad omen for a coach at any level (especially one where you can’t make the offenders run laps for the violation). The one thing we were able to accomplish was selecting a team name: Team Works. Granted it seemed like a questionable name, but it was better than no name at all. I left the field shellshocked that night, half-expecting my email to contain a petition for my removal signed by the parents.

I knew things had to change so I gave myself a painful self-assessment. Ironically, much of what I focused on was advice that could be applied to many other aspects of my life: “You’re talking too much… you’re overcomplicating… the most important thing is for everyone to have fun… quit overanalyzing… JUST DO IT!”

"Wait, should I be running after the ball right now??"

The next practice we wasted no time huddling up for instructions. Instead we launched into a game called “Ouch”. The concept was simple- the kids dribble around and try to kick the ball at the coach; when the coach gets hit, he gives an exaggerated “OUCH!!!!!” and occasionally drops like he’s been shot in the leg. Approximately 10 seconds into this drill I heard a sound that was music to my ears: laughter. Yup, the kids were having fun.

That fun continued over the next few weeks of practices and games. Coaching little kids is a lot like parenting. You learn each player’s strengths and weaknesses, what makes him or her laugh, when to step in and motivate and when to sit back and observe. It wasn’t long before our Thursday evening practices became my favorite time of the week. For 45 minutes I was able to drop all my worries and just focus on the kids. I got to run around like a goofball and try to steal the ball away as I preached to them “keep that dribble close”. I learned that 5 year-olds need water breaks about every six minutes, and they occasionally choose to lie down in the middle of the field if they’re hit by a wave of fatigue. On game days I got to experience a wonderful treat – the halftime snack. That’s the time when this group of 5 year-olds opened up about their worlds and shared all their secrets about sibling rivalries, what happened at school that week, what they did to make their parents angry, etc. Sometimes I asked questions, but mostly I just listened, smiled, and silently thanked Katie for giving me that nudge to coach.

This Sunday will mark our final game of the season. Next spring the league will resume and perhaps I’ll volunteer to coach again, but the odds are most of my team will end up playing for other coaches. I already know it will be bittersweet seeing Team Works take the field for the final time together.

Years from now when I look back on this fall soccer season there is one quote that will remain vivid in my mind, courtesy of my daughter Molly. It was a response to my parents asking her what she liked best about having me coach her team, and she punctuated it with a giggle at the end:

“All of my teammates call him ‘Coach Chad’, but I get to call him ‘Coach Dad’!”

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Tags: coaching, Kids, ouch, soccer, soccer drills, Team Works, Westborough, WYSA, youth sports