Forrest Gump

"Mama always said 'Life is like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're gonna get.'"  -Forrest Gump

For the third season in a row (Spring, 2013, Fall, 2013 and Spring 2014), and the fourth time in five seasons, I coached Eldest's soccer team.  After the first season as a head coach, I told The Wife I was not going to do it again.

One year later, after a reasonably successful season as Middle's assistant coach the intermittent season, I volunteered to be an assistant for Eldest.  I thought I had the perfect plan.  I would go back and forth as the assistant coach for Eldest and Middle.  Unfortunately, my plan was derailed by a lack of coaches.  Since I had volunteered as an assistant, I was on the grid.  When the league was short of head coaches, they immediately asked the people who volunteered to be an assistant coach to climb the next step.  I agreed out of guilt and the chance to request that Eldest's best friend be on our team.  I managed to get a couple other friends on the team, making the season much better for Eldest.

That season was fantastic.  I had a pretty good team that became great when the heir to Maradona appeared at practice one day.  I blogged several times about my experience and finished a nearly perfect season.  Due to the success we had, but even more the one failure, I let the team know I would coach again the next season.  Eight of the boys from the first season played again the following season.  Little Maradona was not one of them.  We had a pretty good team anyway, and finished with a winning record.  I learned that season that I am probably not that great a coach, I was just fortunate to have some good players and one great player.

After the second season, I struggled with the question of whether I would coach again.  To a certain extent, I enjoy coaching.  I like helping out, I enjoy watching the boys play and improve, and I like to be in control.  If we have a coach I believe is better than me, the control thing doesn't matter that much.  In Eldest's first two seasons playing soccer, he had fantastic coaches.  These two gentlemen convinced me that I should not coach, because I could not, and have not, lived up to the standard they set.  Unfortunately, the law of averages caught up to us and his third coach, although always willing to volunteer, really didn't know what he was doing.  I couldn't idly stand by and watch the impending disaster of that season, so I became the assistant coach.

That was basically how the cycle began.  I was part of the grid, one of the known entities to the league.  I have seen the select few others.  Each season I have coached, the opposing coaches are usually the same people.  Out of six coaches this season, five coached last fall and at least three coached last spring.  This winter I had to decide whether I would coach again.  I was beginning to enjoy it less.  I like being able to yell at the boys without being "that parent," but at the end of each season, I was progressively more tired and frustrated.  I remember Dean Smith saying that he never decided on retirement when a season ended, because he always wanted to retire then.  He made the decision as the next season approached.  I am not comparing myself to Dean Smith or equating coaching nine year olds in a house soccer league to coaching UNC basketball, but I understand where he was coming from.

Ultimately, I decided to coach again for the opportunity to coach one of the players one more time.  His mother emailed me to ask if I was going to coach again and strongly implied that he would not play soccer if I was not going to coach.  I decided I wanted to coach him again.  There were several other players I wanted to coach again, including Eldest, and I did feel a sense of obligation to the team as a whole, so I signed up.  The strong implication was confirmed when the one player's parents told me he was going to play flag football if I didn't coach.  My team this spring had four new players and seven returning from last fall, including six from last spring.

The absence of little Maradona was significant because I didn't have a player who could just score.  I had a few players with good skills, one with a really good shot and a few others with some valuable strengths, but, in the most important way, my team was like the US Men's National team, no real striker.  We could control possession, we played great defense and my goalies rarely failed to surprise me.  We just struggled to score.  Our first game was a 1-0 win.  We had plenty of chances, we just couldn't get the ball in the net.

In the second game, we were scored on in the first two minutes.  I looked very carefully at the scorer.  Little Maradona.  That was the surprise I had feared for two seasons.  Within the next 10 minutes, he assisted on another goal, giving a teammate a shot at an empty net.  At halftime, I told the team how to stop him, which is basically to challenge him as soon as he gets the ball, or deny him the ball.  Little Maradona is a true striker.  He waits around for his chance to score, but doesn't do much else.  Eldest took it upon himself to stop Little Maradona and did an excellent job.  I considered directly challenging Eldest, but decided that coaching one 10-year old to specifically stop another 10-year old in a house league is a bt unsportsmanlike.  Eldest did it on his own.  We lost the game 3-0, but Little Maradona didn't do anything in the second half.

In our first 5 games, we went 2-2-1 and scored a total of 5 goals.  In our 6th game, we faced Little Maradona again.  We won 6-1.  One of my players, a very talented, but lazy athlete, put in 3 goals.  He should have passed the ball several times, but almost never did and just fought his way to the goal and put the ball in the net.  I have no idea which player will show up, the one who pulled off the 3-gaol, 1-assist game in game 6, or the one who looks lost and watches the action.  Another sign that I am not that good a coach is I can't figure this out or fix it.

The league had 6 teams and we played 8 games.  We finished the season 4-2-2.  Through random luck, we had the chance to avenge both of our losses, which we did.  We avenged a 3-0 loss with a 6-1 win and we avenged a 2-1 loss with a 3-1 win.  Luckily, I'm not competitive so I don't pay attention to these things.

Throughout the season, I found myself surprised by my boys.  One player who looks nothing like a soccer player, played  solid defense and proved himself to be a reliable goalie through pure instincts, despite being the Rudy of my team (not a speck of athletic ability.)  We would score no goals one game, and 6 the next.  I spent three seasons trying to convince one player to pass the ball, something I was convinced he would never do.  In the final game, he made several excellent passes, including the best give and go pass I have ever seen in a house league game.  The player I wanted to coach again grew into an even better player, and should have had several assists in our final game, because he became great at crossing the ball in front of the goal.  The rest of the team finally started to understand why I told them to stay in front of the goal.

Even Eldest surprised me in our last game.  Eldest's best move is running down an opposing player with the ball and taking it from him.  In our final game, Eldest caught an opposing player despite a 20 yard lead and only 40 yards to the goal, cut in front of him and took the ball away to prevent a one-on-one shot with the goalie.  Everyone watching was amazed at that, none more than the kid who thought he was about to tie the game up.  Except maybe his coach.  Amazingly, he did it without even touching the opposing player.

I am temporarily resigning from coaching Eldest to coach Middle next fall.  Being the parent of multiple children means spreading your time around a bit.  I will miss my team.  The timing is right.  The league changes format when the players turn 11.  Two of my players (who have both been on the team for 3 seasons) are moving.  I will miss coaching several of the boys, and not miss coaching a few of them.  I will miss coaching boys who are a little older, because I like to be a little mean, and I don't think I should be mean to 8-year olds.  I am, however, interested in what I will find in my next box of chocolates.