Open the trunk of my car and in about three seconds you’ll know. Inside are a gigantic mesh bag of soccer balls, boxes of spare uniforms, and scads of orange cones, air pumps, roster sheets, and all the other impedimenta of youth soccer.
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Yes, I am a soccer coach. Twice over, actually, as I coach two of my kids’ teams. I am also president of our local youth soccer league, a job that gets passed down with all the pomp and circumstance associated with electing a new pope (and one that, like the pope, you’re stuck with until you die).
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Historically speaking, it has always fallen to dads to coach their kids’ sports teams. Not to say that moms don’t get involved – they do, and in a big way – but most of the time, in my experience, it’s the dad who takes on the role of coach. And that’s not a bad thing at all. It’s good for us to get involved with our kids this way, and it probably keeps us out of more trouble than we know.
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I have been coaching one youth sport or another (soccer, tee ball, baseball, etc.) for more than a decade, and in that time I’ve managed to learn a few things. These, I think, are the three most important:
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(1) IT AIN’T ABOUT YOU, COACH
There is power in being a coach. Granted, it’s power over a bunch of grade-schoolers, but it’s power, nonetheless. When I am holding that clipboard or blowing my whistle, I am King of All I Survey. Fourth-graders cower in my presence. Young girls in pink soccer jerseys and plastic shin guards perform wind sprints at my very command. For that one-hour practice or game, I am all-powerful.
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And yet – I’m just being honest here – no one is especially impressed, nor should they be. Donating your time to coach your kid’s team is an admirable thing, honorable even. But if you don’t make sure it’s all about the kids, then you’ve failed. If practices and games aren’t fun for the players, you haven’t done your job. If you’ve made it ALL about winning and losing and stroking your ego as Mr. Undefeated Little League Coach, you’ve fallen short of the mark.
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Speaking of which…
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(2) LOOK AWAY FROM THE SCOREBOARD
Kids get into sports because they enjoy them. They’re fun. Structure and rules are good things, don’t get me wrong, but unless you’re a Romanian gymnast (and even if you are, come to think of it), no adult should be teaching an 8-year-old to measure success and failure by how much they win or lose.
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Unlike some, I have no problem with the idea of keeping score in youth athletics. Being exposed to competition at an early age is a healthy thing, I think. What’s NOT healthy, however, is an over-emphasis on the final score. Acknowledge it when the other team wins, maybe even mention a few things you could have done better or differently. And then praise the kids for their effort, their hustle, their well-pressed uniforms…whatever. For every bit of criticism you offer, you should give out five items of praise.
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(3) LIFE LESSONS ARE IMPORTANT
You know how, when you first became a parent, people warned you that your kids would watch you like hawks, and that your example would be one of the primary factors in shaping their values and character? Yeah, well, it turns out the same holds true for youth athletes. They take their cues from you, coach. If you yell at the ref, they’re going to assume it’s OK for them to yell at the ref, too. If you yank a player from the game and berate her for making a mistake, they’ll start criticizing their teammates. If you throw tantrums after a loss, they’ll become that pariah of the American sports experience – the sore loser.
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Look, it’s not like you’re grooming these kids for the pros, right? I mean, I’ve coached hundreds of kids over the years in various sports, and I think I can safely say that not one of them will become a professional athlete. So what do they take from their time on the soccer field or the little league diamond? It’s all the corny stuff you may never think about, but things that should be the cornerstones of your approach to coaching: teamwork, discipline, dedication, etc.
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Whatever Charles Barkey might say, you ARE a role model. And a more important one than you may realize. Teach the fundamentals of the game, yes, but more importantly, consider the example you set each time you step onto the field with those kids. You owe them (and their parents, who shelled out a hundred bucks for little Johnny to play) no less than that.
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