Adieu to Fall ball...

So... the Fall Season is officially over. 

And, yes, I already miss it.

It was a tough season, for a number of reasons. We dropped way more games than I would like to in the First Division with my older ladies; my younger ladies did well to gel and pull out an admirable season after an extremely rough start.

Yesterday, one of my favorite kids came and gave me a hug after our parents meetings.

"Coach, you are my favorite coach ever!"

"I am?" I preened. That made my day, even though we both know I am her first and only coach.

Whatever... I am the favorite right now.


My voice will get some rest, and I'll get to spend more time with family. My stress level will go down (even though, as a youth pastor, it seems my youth tend to make up for any deficit over the winter), and my afternoons will not involve pumping balls or washing pinnies.

And I miss it. I miss my players. Yes, I'm pouting.

Every season is a learning experience. I learned one of my kids survived a bout with meningitis. She's only our top scorer and sweetest kid in the world. And I thought I was strong. Ha. One of my other players has dealt with enough emotional pain that I think even the Statue of Liberty would sag under its weight. One broke her wrist during the season. Through all the cookies, cupcakes and candy, I realize that I am so blessed to be an occasional, ever-so-temporary guardian to a phenomenal bunch of almost 30 young ladies.

Every year, we give thanks for a multitude of things. I just want to show gratitude to God for an opportunity to teach -- and learn from -- an incredible bunch of kids. As I have said before, there is no more overwhelming feeling than to be surrounded by a bunch of 12 or 14 yr -old ladies, who are looking up (or, as happens more nowadays with the older group, DOWN) at you with trust and expectation.

I pray God gives me the strength to continually be the right type of guide for them. Love my Mundial and Mundial Select players.

*sigh* Come on, Spring...

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Excellence and Summitt

For the past few years of coaching young people, I have almost exclusively coached young ladies. Something that even male coaches ruefully note is the relative lack of female coaches in our sport at the youth level.

It is hardly restricted to youth soccer. You see the same in high school, college and the pros. It seems guys corner the market on coaching and training opportunities. And, while the situation is changing, there is much to be done in the matter of encouraging and retaining female role models in coaching. My organization has actively and tangibly worked to bridge any gender gaps.

I am not trying to talk myself out of a job; I just feel that there is definite value in finding female role models for young ladies to emulate.

When news surfaced recently that the venerable Pat Summitt, championship coach of the Tennessee Lady Vols, is battling a form of early onset Alzheimer's disease, the entire sports world gasped. Scratch that. Everyone gasped.

See, you don't need to be a sports fan to know Coach Summitt. Her scowl is legendary, and her glare strikes fear into friends and foes alike. But beneath that ferocity lies a history of excellence that is hard to ignore. Check how many of her students either have degrees or are working towards one. Here's a hint: if expressing the number as a percentage, you'd have to use three digits.

Ask her players, past and present, about her and they talk about a coach who is not scared to push them to succeed. A coach who would not accept 90%. She does things right, doesn't take shortcuts, and her methods make us all rest soundly in the assurance that good triumphs over evil in the long-run.

I'm saying a prayer for Coach Summitt... for selfish reasons. You see, she isn't just a role model to young ladies; she is a role model to me.

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Fearing the best

I hate to lose.

This weekend, both of my soccer teams had it rough. No goals for, plenty against. A single loss usually does good to put me in a dark mood, but running between two states for most of the weekend to get both teams going (kinda) and getting our teeth kicked in was especially hard to swallow. Tack on the player injuries, tight schedules and forced tan I got, and you can understand my feelings.

In the midst of the losses, there were some bright spots. It exposed our collective need to get better, but also showed how well we can do when we gel. Both sets of ladies never quit.

There was a point, during the last game with my older team, that I had to make a decision. Continue to push and express anger, with injured players all over the place, or be a resource to my players. I reluctantly (I admit) picked the latter option.

I smiled.

My hope was that being relaxed would rub off. And it did. My ladies seemed to open up. Granted, with the way we changed injured keepers and fill-ins, all one could do was smile.

It didn't stop the goals against us; we continued our free fall, but hopefully, the landing was softer than it could have been.

Another lesson learned... don't fear the loss. Deal with your response.

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Starting again

It begins again.

ATTIC is back, and I'll be having three new ladies join the fold... two teams in two new divisions, and a (mostly) new collection of parents.

With Fall comes a renewed sense of purpose. I look on the past year of coaching/ministry, and I think the honest thing is to be grateful for any successes, but be realistic about areas of opportunity.

In everything, it is clear that I must continually refresh myself if I want to be an effective trainer and pastor. I readily admit that sometimes, the sheer breadth of responsibility gives me pause.

The older one gets, the easier it is to see that one's strength isn't necessarily a function of what's within, despite what the cool Nike commercials say. It is more a function of what one attaches oneself to. So, I am making this easy by re-attaching myself to He who strengthens me.

It should be a good season for my youth and soccer teams. Keep us in your prayers.

Image courtesy of Ian Britton via reelworship.com.

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Recast

It's been a busy year so far. With three teams and church work, I felt stretched. Tryout week just ended... looks like I'm gonna have two club teams again.

Truth be told, without some of the best church volunteers and parents on both sides (like my earthbound Angel), I'd never make it.

I'm looking forward to it.

For now, I am so grateful to God for all the opportunities. I am quite happy for the few weeks of respite. End of season brings a multitude of emotions. You say goodbye to players for any number of reasons; it never gets easier.

The longer I coach, the longer I realize that it is an extension of my ministry. That is what makes me keep at it. I love what I do, and even though I may never get rich doing it, I truly feel privileged.

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What a day...

Tournaments will make or break you.

With the torrential rains coming through, it has been in interesting Saturday. My older team (Gazelle) played first game against a team that had my school (CPS) keeper... we lost a tight one, but it was a mixed bag. I love to see Katie do well, albeit at my expense.

Immediately after, I had to dash across town to get to my younger team (Samba) matchup, guest coached by a fellow trainer Danny. We won that game.

We then had a predetermined rain delay to allow the serious thunderstorms pass. At 3:15, we repeated the sequence -- one game here, then a dash to get to my next game before halftime.

Ended up with two ties, a win and a loss spread amongst both teams.

I am so proud of both teams. My older team is very, very different from a week ago; player movement and injuries changed our entire complexion. They have done so well to raise their own performance, and it is exciting and humbling to watch. Though it has been a rough season, they continually fight to do well.

My younger team has quietly become a formidable force in our division. We lost out on the championship, but an undefeated regular season made me so proud of them. Hopefully we can bring home so hardware tomorrow.

All in all, it was a hectic yet rewarding day. I was supposed to be break-dancing at a fundraiser for our children's department (long story... a blogpost for another day), but I think my age is definitely beginning to show.

Remembering Julian Brown is still a privilege.

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And more...

So... in my new role as soccer coach at Charlotte Prep, I got a new set of ladies to learn with... a bunch of bright ladies of differing abilities ranging from 5th to 8th grade.

So far, it's been fun. I am quite interested to see how we do. I like the school, and parents seem quite receptive. My schedule has tightened even further, but I truly love this opportunity.

Go Tigers!

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Full Circle

It's that time of year again...

It's been very busy. Just got back from a youth mission trip to Grifton, NC. Now, I'll be honest; I had never heard of Grifton prior to getting involved at East. It's out in eastern NC, and compared to Charlotte or Raleigh, is much quieter and somewhat rural, what with all the sprawling farmland and such.

In any case, it was back-breaking work. It was also very humbling work. I got to know my youth even better, and bonded with my parent volunteers. Through all the sweat, early mornings, hot afternoons and unexpected happenings, we returned as a very tight knit group. The one thing that continually lept out at me was the concept of "renewal." More on this later.

Beyond that, we are saying bye to some of the best seniors in the world. Most are staying around and/or going to local colleges, but I have one going all the way off to Kansas. Happy for her, but truly unhappy to see her go that far away. I console myself with the fact that God has a plan, especially since guilting her into staying didn't work.

Then, I said goodbye to my two soccer teams. I had been with the core of the older team, current U-14s, for some time; they will all be mostly playing first division soccer for new coaches in the Fall, which is a huge jump, and makes me very proud as a coach. Of that team, only one is left, and I had her for only half a season. I am also saying bye to my younger team. We went through so much as a unit, from all losses to a winning record. They are all mostly playing at the classic level, which makes me very proud as well.

In return, I have two new teams... two mostly new ladies, a few who I have coached and coached against in the past. I am looking forward to the challenge, and developing new relationships with my new team and parents.

I am truly thankful for the opportunity to be used, and I hope I can be a blesing to my youth on the field and in church.

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Weekend

What a weekend.

Since somebody decided to leave me with two of the kids this weekend, I had a taste of despair.

I tried the "popular dad" routine to kick things off. You know... saying yes to everything. That lasted roughly 15 minutes, right after my son loudly proclaimed the joy of freeing his nether regions from an invading piece of clothing to the patrons of a packed Chik-fil-A. Talk about embarrassed.

Then it was off to dinner with friends, and I didn't make it back home till past midnight. I figured they'd be tired. But no.

"Daddy, can we watch cartoons?"

"No," I yelled. What was wrong with these jokers? It was already "tomorrow."

"Pleeeease?"

Okay. Fine. Whatever.

Suffice to say, since I had a game to coach at Boiling Springs the next day (70 miles away), followed by a second one 60 miles from the first, we were in for a burner.

I am proud to say we got to Boiling Springs early. So early, in fact, that I found out that I had driven there in error. The Boiling Springs game was not till the next day.

I had driven an hour and change for nothing. Plus, I had two "are-we-there-yet" kids that I now had to drive back to get to a game that was fairly close to home in Charlotte. Goodness.

"This would never have happened with Mommy," opined by daughter sagely.

"I bet Mommy would never leave you on the side of the road either, would she?" I shot back in a mature manner.

Anyway... I coached my 96s (U-13s) and we tied the game with 10 players. The U-11 game did not go as well, and we lost badly.

I had two games Sunday, so we left for Boiling Springs. Again. Now that game, we lost. Again we played with 10 players. As always, my Torsion girls are my heroes. They never, ever quit.

My U-11s made it all worth it it in our second game.

We played a team I truly liked. Nice coach, nice young ladies, nice club. They had beaten us last year, and in this game, we were missing some key players due to conflicts.

Keep in mind we had not won a game as a team. We went up 3-0, and prevailed in what turned out to be a nail-biter 3-2.

Really, really proud of you, Samba Elite!

The wife and baby returned on Sunday, and all is right in my world...

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Thank you!

A few weekends back, my older girls had a tough going in our regular league play.

Ravaged by flu, we went into back-to-back games undermanned against two good teams. On Saturday, we drove 90 minutes to play in Asheville. One of my toughest players, Y, was so sick she could hardly stand. With only 11 other players, I knew it would be tough, and we dropped our first game of the season 3-1 after an understandably dismal second half.

Sunday looked to be bleaker. Y was done, so we had only 11 players. 11! Then, one of my players forgot her cleats. We were three hours away from home, no sports stores close by, and no one had extra cleats.

In youth sports, we talk about going to war, and kicking in the opponent's teeth and more. The news is filled with abominable stories of crazy youth parents, but when it comes down to it, we meet some of the best people around in youth sports.

I am taking my hat off to the players, parents and coaches of Carolina Mountains Soccer Club U-13 Blue G team. Coach Bill and his parents treated us with class. My player was provided a pair of cleats by the mother of one of the CMSC players. Bill inquired into the health of my players, and even offered to let us take breaks during the game to ensure my players did not get dehydrated.

The game ended in a goalless tie. It is memorable to me for many reasons; my ladies showed their grit, but I also have Bill to thank for that, because he did not cheapen the game by holding back. I believe both teams are the better for playing it, and it helped create the deep regard I have for CMSC.

Thank you for showing why we do what we do. It is an honor to have played those ladies of 96G Blue.

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Grateful to be busy.

It has been a busy Summer and Fall. Two teams to coach (and travel with), running the youth program at East, deciding to help run the YCI program at East Meck, finding the time to do FCA at the same school, and most importantly, a new baby at any time.

Oh Yeah. I. Am. On. Fire. God keeps the doors permanently open.

East has been a fountain of opportunity. Great people, and there is ALWAYS something to do. Our Youth Sunday was successful, and now we are looking to be used by God in other ways.

I also get to work with PJ on our web initiative. Very, very time consuming, but very, very rewarding. I take my hat off to all the REAL web architects out there. Creating a church website is no joke, and for all my assumed computer savvy, it has been a steep learning curve.

So, all in all, it has been one blessed time period.

Gotta run. I have a pregnant woman to attend to, and I want to live to tell y'all some more.

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Letting go...

As a soccer coach, I have learned quite a lot about being charge. Mostly, that "being in charge" is not a call to dictatorship. I have also learned that to be successful with kids, you must be successful with the motivating factor behind those kids.

Yes, I am talking of the "P-word" here: PARENTS!

When I was younger, it was easy to view parents as a necessary evil. You almost always had one that was a a braggart, another who knew the governor, and one whose knowledge of soccer consisted of the drunken periodic scream "Big kick, d*****!" Yet, in everything, those folks are the same people who have the most influence on your players. You learn to value them. Some of my best friends are parents of current and past parents.

Last weekend, I was thrust into the hot seat. My baby girl was playing a game. And I was on the sideline, for the first time in my life, as a parent.

When I watch soccer games, I automatically go into analytical mode. I look at formations, balance, weak side threats and relative speed of attack. It is the goalkeeper in me, honed by years of coaching. Within seconds, I can generally figure out leaks and advantages.

On Saturday, I couldn't do that. My eyes were on #7. My pride knew no bounds, even when she stood rooted to the ground for 5 minutes without going for the ball. This same move would have elicited a growl from me with my older players... but at that moment, to me, it was almost adorable.

The toughest thing was letting go. I had always shied away from pushing Mimi towards soccer. I never wanted to become the crazy father, forcing her to practice juggling till 1 AM daily. So seeing her pick it up and play herself was humbling, and it was weird seeing Coach Thad bringing her along.

I take my hat off, again, to all the guys and gals who coach youth soccer at the grassroots level. You know... the folks who have not been jaded by advanced coaching courses, and who probably never heard of the game till they found out their kids would not have a season if they did not step up. Thanks for all you do, for creating the individual masterpieces that we get later on in the journey.

Thanks to all the rec coaches, like Coach Thad, who work hard, a lot of times for free, and help ensure that I can switch from Coach Tre to the one title in the world cooler than that:

Daddy.

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Why?

It's the beautiful game... and I love to coach it.

Growing up, my dad couldn't wield the pigskin, or dribble a basketball, and he was probably more acquainted with cricket than baseball... but he knew how to play football -- real football. My earliest memories consist of him showing me the basics outside our home in Minnesota.

People don't understand the immense honor and privilege it is to have the opportunity to coach and teach young people. Coaching youth sports is the ultimate elixir; it makes you a better person.

You see both sides of the coin. When you do right, there is no losing. You might come up on the wrong side of a result, but there are a million potential victories in every loss. Sometimes, it's hard to find them... but that's why finding them is so much sweeter.

I thought playing the game was great. After I got hurt, I missed the action. To this day, I can't walk by a set of goals without a sense of hunger.

But nothing compares to the look of a 12 yr-old who looks up at you with complete trust. In that instant, you are humbled by the sheer weight of the situation. Hey Coach: you are it. In that space of time, practice or game, you are influencing a young person's life. You are teaching them. And, if you are blessed enough to recognize the opportunity, you also teach yourself.

You see, long after the whistle, long after the cupcakes and ice cream, it is so much more than the leather sphere, boots and gloves. It's about fellowship, family and sharing love for the beautiful game.

That's why I do it.



Sent via BlackBerry

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485ing it.

How reassuring the sound of a bird chirping is.

Against the background of speeding vehicles, it is downright heavenly.

Where am I? On I-485, the branching interstate that flanks the parent I-85 in Charlotte. I had just experienced a tire blowing out, and it wasn't fun.

I was (still am, hopefully) headed to watch a soccer game with my U-13 Girls team as the first leg of an evening of practice and team-building. So, naturally, I am disappointed sitting here waiting for AAA to get here and tow me to a tire shop.

In any case, now that my pulse has returned to normal, I feel somewhat let down. When I heard the pop, I had the weird sensation that someone had shot at me.

I figured I had to be making mighty moves for the kingdom, and someone was trying to take me out. Or, with the BET Awards at hand, someone had mistaken me for a musician driving a Honda and decided to take that diss record I made a decade ago personal. Or, a local youth pastor warning me about innocently poaching some of his youth.

Or, it could be a blown tire.

In any case, I am safe, and grateful for the prayer tweets coming in (along with the suggestions to look for stale fries and lemon-crusted squirrel from Pam and Karen).

Plus, I finally have tan lines, and that, my friends, is no small feat.

Picture courtesy of Wiki Commons.


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Changes.

I have decided that I am way to mellow and soft spoken as a coach. Time to really get crazy:



Sadly, this type of behavior is becoming (scratch that: has long since become) a part of youth soccer. Parents, coaches, even the players themselves in some cases get caught acting in ways that don't reflect sportsmanship.

Then we wonder why we have some self-indulgent adult athletes...

Youth referees are the gaskets of sports. You really don't hear or think much about them when things are going your way. It is the epitome of thankless jobs.

Next time you see a zebra at a sporting event, shake their hands. Trust me, they don't get that a lot.

Great video from the FA...

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Soccer Keeper Uses iPod

As a soccer coach and former keeper, this bit of news from Reuters caught my eye... a keeper using an electronic device (in this case, an iPod) for on-the-field analysis that arguably helped him and his team win the coveted League Cup via penalty shoot-out.

Ben Foster, goal tender for powerhouse Manchester United, watched penalty kicks previously taken by opponent Tottenham Hotspur designated kickers. He watched the clips with United's goalkeeping coach as a tactical move prior to the shoot-out.

In youth soccer, I think one of the most under-utilized tools is game film. Having film, in my opinion, is priceless. Ever talked to a 12 yr-old about a mistake he/she made on the field ten minutes earlier? Chances are he/she won't remember. Have the same child watch herself on video... they practically troubleshoot themselves. Pointy ball coaches have been doing this forever; you wonder why we, as coaches of a game as fluid as soccer, do not routinely film games for future reference.

It is relatively easy to get parents to tape a game, too.

Hopefully, The FA and FIFA won't overeact and ban the use, though an argument could be made that allowing some electronic aids on the pitch opens the doors to abuse. Still, it goes to show that real football goalkeepers are the smartest folks around.
Praise God!

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Sunday blues.

So, we dropped our Sunday game today 1-0.

At some point in my life, I won't get as testy after losses. Not today, though. For now, I am gonna go try my hand at Chicken Diavolo and drown my sorrows in some root beer.

Sent via my BlackBerry.

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Yep. Old.

So, I lamented about my age here a while back, and got some much unneeded affirmation this weekend at the tournament I coached at.

In the hotel lobby, I ran into an old player of mine, Chris. Now, I had known Chris since my rookie days as a high school assistant. In fact, I knew Chris since he was in middle school.

Well, guess who is coaching now? Yes, you guessed right: Chris.

You know you are old when your old/graduated players start coaching.

We had a blast reminiscing about the old days. Chris was a fiery player in his heyday, so I needled him by telling his current players of how their coach acted way back when, and I advised them to give him a hard time.

It was great to see him; I wish I had seen him in action.

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The Kingsport Chronicles.

Spent most of the weekend in Kingsport, Tennessee with my team, taking part in the SCOSA Appalachian Fall Soccer Festival.

It was sure to have a lot of subplots; first game since one of my angels broke her foot; the first game when I would have another angel back from another fracture; and the first game with our two new players. All that in the pleasant foothills of TN.

As always, I was somewhat nervous. I spent the solitary drive up windy Hwy 321 thinking and rethinking field combinations. I guessed we'd be playing some good teams, but not knowing the ability of the teams (or parent club) gave me pause.

In any case, our first two games went well. The scores (4-0 and 3-0) did not reflect the toughness of the teams we played. Our third game (a 9.30 am battle in seemingly freezing weather) was a toughie, but we eeked out a goalless tie.

That set up a last game that we really needed to win to avoid a final game (to win on points).

The last game was one we should have supposedly won easily on paper. However, the other team came out swinging. They scored in the first few minutes.

Fortunately, we put one in almost immediately after, and put two more grit goals in to seal the victory and the tournament top spot.

Great outing, my angels are champions, and they did it in style. 10 goals for, 1 against. I am so very proud!

Go Lightning!


Sent via my BlackBerry.

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Soccer Life Lessons.

Sometimes, the important things in life can get hidden behind fear.

This weekend, again, I relearned a few life lessons.

1) Courage comes in difference sizes. It can appear in a 5'2" frame, carried off the field of play with a serious fracture, or in a 5'7" frame who is hurt but refuses to leave her teammates, and every height in between.

2) Courage doesn't always mean confronting your fears head on, on time. Sometimes, it means coming back to be there for your team before it is too late.

3) Nothing -- exhaustion, superior numbers, seeing a friend rushed to hospital -- nothing is bigger than pure heart. Want to know the definition of team? Come watch Lightning play.

4) Nothing is more overwhelming than a bunch of 11-yr olds looking at you for direction. Trust personified.

5) You realize that even though some players may support Virginia Tech or Notre Dame or (God forbid) Duke, they are still angels in your book. After all, it is usually the parents who are making horrible mistakes. Not everybody is nice enough to be a Carolina fan.

Win or lose, these ladies have won my heart, and I am learning, at the very least, as much from them as they are learning from me.

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