Living Happily Ever After

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It’s Why We Play

My first soccer practice as assistant coach to a team of boys under age 6 was a lot like attempting to herd puppies!

But the boys, if smiles, laughs, giggles, wrestling and rough housing are any indication, had a fabulous time! (I’m still not sure how much they learned, but they sure seemed to have a good time.)

I attempted to teach kicking, passing, dribbling, and the game of soccer. They wrestled, rolled in the grass, took a lot of water breaks and rested.

As I walked to my car after an hour of attempting to coach/herd 9 little soccer-playing “puppies,” I had a thought I hadn’t had in over two decades: I don’t think I’m a poor sport, but maybe I’m too competitive to coach children?

“It’s why we play the game. Anything is possible, anything can happen, and we proved that again tonight.” (Casey Korkus)

No Star Coach, That’s For Sure

“I’m a rock star because I couldn’t be a soccer star.” (Rod Stewart)

Not really. Truth be told, I’m neither! The first practice after my unexpected coaching experience at the first game reminded me of that and why.

Early in my marriage (before I had children) I was asked to coach a girl’s basketball team for my church congregation. They’d already had the team meeting and coach meeting to give instruction and direction to the coaches prior to my assignment, so I just held practice and showed up at the games.

I wasn’t worried. I loved basketball and had played a lot of basketball in my day. I knew the game, so I coached the way I’d been coached as a basketball player—including sometimes setting scoring goals and shouting them out as a team cheer to motivate ourselves. The season was a success. My team made it to the finals and were looking forward to playing the “championship” game when I was notified our team had been disqualified.

I was stunned! When I asked the reason for our disqualification, I was told it was because of bad sportsmanship. I was stunned again because the girls on my team had been great sports, had never lost control, had cheered each other on, had welcomed new players to the team (even inexperienced ones), and were polite and kind to everyone, including their opponents. I couldn’t imagine what the league officials were talking about so I asked for clarification, and when I got it, I felt terrible.

The officials told me my team had bad sportsmanship because we “ran up the score” at every game we played. Ran up the score? What was that? I had always played to win, and teams win in basketball by making baskets and scoring points, I thought that was the name of the game! The officials corrected that for me. No, the point of the game was to have fun and they accused me, again, of running up the score and told me their decision to disqualify my team was final.

I had just coached as I’d been coached and played, I was simply trying to set performance goals for the girls—”lets score 10 points this half.” I had never meant to “run up” a score or exhibit poor sportsmanship! And there I’d cheered, all season long, encouraging my team to shoot and score, oblivious to the league rules (because I’d been asked to coach late and had missed all the coaching meetings) and probably giving the impression to everyone watching that I was a “poor sport” and out for blood at each and every game. I was so embarrassed at what people must have thought of me. (I was still in my 20s; I hadn’t lived an unexpected life yet.)

My first coaching experience was a raging success! (NOT. “Team  Disqualified for Coach’s Poor Sportsmanship”  could have been the headline.) And then, over 20 years later, I show up to my first practice as assistant coach of a boy’s “6 And Under” soccer team and found out not much had changed.

“Yes, there is a little group of soccer aficionados, but I am not one of them.” (Gay Talese)

Bummer.

Dressed To Spectate, But…

“Coaching is easy. Winning is the hard part.” (Elgin Baylor)

My youngest is playing soccer, for the first time, this fall. It’s something he has been begging to participate in for a couple of years, so we decided to try it this year. As the start of the season approached, I began getting emails from the league, “Your child has been placed on a team. However, we still need a coach, an assistant coach, and a team parent for your child’s team. Please volunteer.”

I confess, I ignored those requests. I was a basketball player; I never played soccer, I knew nothing about the game (other than I think you can’t touch the ball with your hands); not to mention the fact that I work full-time in another city from where the soccer practices and games take place.

As the day of the first game approached, the same emails kept coming. I finally responded with one of my own: “I’ve never played soccer, I know nothing about soccer, but I am willing to coach if you need me to,” thinking surely, one of those dads of the boys on the team would volunteer! I didn’t hear anything back, assumed a dad had stepped forward, and showed up at the first game. Expecting to spectate. To find out…I was the assistant coach!

I was dressed to spectate (in a skirt and flip flops), not coach, but I joined the boys on the field and did the best I could to provide encouragement, direction, to help control a little kindergarten boy-age chaos and propensity to wrestle even when they should be playing soccer and, of course, to learn the rules of the game. (Many thanks to Tyler, a little boy on my team, who coached the assistant coach that first game!)

We all survived the first soccer game. I’m not sure who won (I don’t think we keep score at this young age). I only know several boys on my team, including my son, scored goals; and that we had a very supportive cheerleader, my husband, cheering all of us on and making sure we had plenty of water during the breaks (especially the assistant coach) from the sidelines.

As I walked off the field at the end of the first game, all I could do was shake my head at ANOTHER unexpected adventure…in the unexpected life.

Life is like that, you know.

“Coaching in the NBA is not easy. It’s like a nervous breakdown with a paycheck.” (Pat Williams)

My experience is slightly easier than that, thank goodness! No paycheck, but no breakdowns, either. At least, not during that first game.

More to come.

Stay tuned.