It’s 7:30 AM, and you’re jolted awake by a pounding headache, not from last night’s escapades but from an obnoxious pop song that’s been stuck in your head since your daughter’s car ride. Welcome to Saturday, affectionately termed “Dad Day.” In just a few hours, you’ll be on the sidelines coaching your son’s soccer team, who are heading into their eighth consecutive loss—capping off a season where they’ve been outscored a staggering 49 to 1. But hey, at least this grueling nine-week stint of volunteer coaching is coming to a close.
From your bedroom, you hear the blaring TV. You shuffle into the living room to find your 7-year-old glued to cartoons, surrounded by a chaos of snack wrappers. Perfect. His sugar rush will likely hit its peak right before what promises to be the longest game of the year. Once again, you had hoped your team could savor the sweet taste of victory, but it looks like they’ll be feasting on dirt and salt from their tears after another defeat.
First order of business? Coffee. You glance outside to see the same dreary clouds that have plagued you for the past five weeks. You can’t help but feel resentment toward your wife for convincing you to take on this coaching gig while she’s off at her Saturday boot camp, leaving you to navigate the chaos of finding cleats, shin guards, and a speck of enthusiasm. It’s all about supporting busy working moms, right? Dads make sacrifices, after all. If you manage to endure the next six hours of your kids’ games in the chilly rain, maybe you can sneak in a quick nap while watching college football.
Miraculously, you get everyone dressed and out the door by 8:30 AM. Just as you’re about to leave, your wife returns home, radiant and energized from her workout. Great—at least one of you feels good. Unfortunately, your youngest starts crying for Mom, just as you drive off.
Just one win. That would make it all worthwhile.
You arrive at the field on time, only to find none of your six little misfits have shown up yet. Perhaps they’ve given up before the final week—after all, it seemed like they lost interest from the very first practice. Yet, each week, you’ve caught glimpses of determination and potential that you tried to nurture. Even when they seemed more invested in their mud pies than the game, they were keenly aware of the score (usually 8-0; you stopped counting).
One by one, the kids trickle in. As always, you greet them with high-fives and enthusiasm. The league has scheduled a longer game for the last week so the kids can “put it all together.” Right, the many skills they’ve mastered by now. You decide to focus on shooting practice, even though they haven’t scored a single goal since their first game—unless you count the comical own-goals. Forget about passing and fundamentals! Today, they’re going to experience the joy of scoring, which might just lead to that elusive “W”.
As expected, none of the kids pay attention during the warm-up drills. You dread yelling in front of the parents, and your whistle has little effect. Balls are flying everywhere but towards the goal. They seem more interested in designing their own drills (which you had encouraged back in week three) than actually playing soccer. By the time you hear about their elaborate plans involving stacking cones—completely unrelated to soccer—it’s already time to kick off the game. Oh well, let’s dive in!
The opposing team looks small and beatable. For a fleeting moment, you feel bad for them, knowing the scoring storm your team is about to unleash. But within two minutes, it’s 3-0. As has been the case each week, if the other team has one talented player, they dominate. This time, they have two. Your squad has two kids who excel at taunting, and that’s about it.
Before you know it, the score escalates to 8-0. With kids losing interest both on and off the field and 45 minutes still on the clock, you battle the urge to give up or trip an opposing player on their way to yet another goal. The other team’s coach, a high school girl, tries to help by limiting her star players’ time on the field, even encouraging them to pass instead of score. One of your team’s dads can’t take it anymore and chastises the other team’s star for celebrating after scoring.
You sense the other team, either out of kindness or sheer boredom, is prepared to allow some mercy goals. You give it your all, as do your players, but the ball just refuses to find the back of the net. Your son, claiming to be injured, sulks on the sidelines. Finally, after an eternity, someone calls the game. Time of death: 10:31 AM.
As a treat, a kind parent brought donuts, and suddenly, your players are re-energized. Miraculously, your son makes a speedy recovery as they all devour the sugary delights. You attempt to deliver a post-season pep talk, expressing how proud you are of their improvement over the year. Who knows if they even hear you? One of the parents encourages the kids to cheer for you, “Hip hip…” (silence). Not a single “thank you” from the kids. You’re left wondering if the parents appreciate your efforts or if they secretly blame you for the season’s dismal performance. As you clean up the trash left behind, you turn in your equipment, steering clear of the other coaches who are off to their celebratory pizza parties.
It’s finally over. You wish there was a happy ending or at least a moral to this tale, but there isn’t. You tried everything—inviting older kids to run drills, seeking help from parents, taking unsolicited advice from other coaches, bribing the kids with treats, and even having one parent offer cash for a goal. Most importantly, you aimed to make it fun and hide the fact that it rarely was.
In the end, the league practically coerced you into coaching to ensure your son wouldn’t be stuck at home watching TV every Saturday. Was it worth it? Who knows? You can say with certainty that you won’t do it again. But then again, you said that the last time you coached too. At least no one got hurt—physically, anyway.
Who’s ready for basketball season?!
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Summary:
Volunteer coaching can be a challenging yet rewarding experience for parents. While the journey may not always end in victory, the lessons learned and memories created are invaluable. Whether you’re navigating the ups and downs of youth sports or exploring options for family growth, there’s always something to learn along the way.
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