doing it for the kids:
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Posted: September 15th 2009
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Saturday morning
What a difference a week, and a bit of clear-headedness, can make.
This time round, I’ve spent Friday afternoon pacing out imaginary pitches, getting all the training gear in order...and, of course, pumping those balls (my daughter earning some serious extra pocket money for her help)
So though I still don’t make it for 8 o’clock, I am there for 8.10...and by 8.40, everything’s set up (on & off the field)...the autumnal sun is shining...half an hour till the first bunch arrive...time to relax...
With the u6s & 7s running without a hitch, the only crisis is running out of milk in the tea bar half way through the morning. Eldest son is called, dragged out of bed and told to get his skinny teenage arse down here pronto, via the Co-Op. Cue slapstick series of events as first, he can’t find his house key and appears to be locked in...then finds the key only to discover he has no money...then on unearthing enough to get on his bike (literally, not proverbially) and purchase the much needed 4 pinter, it explodes on him (again literally) in the middle of the road.
This is but a brief (and frankly, most amusing) diversion from preparing for our u7, 8 & 9 girls to arrive for their first session of the season (and, in most cases, of their – ahem – “football careers”).
The missus executes the registration process with all the precision of a vintage Hoddle landing a crossfield 50 yarder in a bucket...your on field organisation is reminiscent of Wenger at Arsenal or Cruyff at Barcelona...the girls cheer & whoop...the coaches are on fire...even the milk supply’s been sorted. The local paper comes down to take some snaps, and all’s well with the world...
...until eldest son manages to break daughter’s brand new bike...much wailing and gnashing of teeth...and my planned 250 mile round trip to see my ‘real’ team is cancelled as the ensuing mini-crisis has lost me that vital half hour needed to ensure I make kick off...
Saturday afternoon
...so instead, I get to watch my eldest’s Saturday team kick off their new season. With this team, I’m just a touchline dad, which is great. I can bugger off to walk the dog round the pitch, have a kickabout with my 5 year old, and chip in with the odd bit of vocal encouragement.
A slightly drab game in which two well matched teams somewhat cancel each other out, but a deserved 1-0 win is secured thanks to star striker’s beautifully executed ‘spin, chip up & volley in one movement’ goal
Sunday morning
After last week’s spineless capitulation against the champs, you’re thankful that week two sees your first derby of the season against a sister team with whom you’ve shared less than convivial relations over the years. After years of level pegging, last year at u15 you safely secured bragging rights with two narrow victories and a higher League position. This is the one the lads need to get the u16s campaign on track...
11 minutes: 0-2
Half time: 0-5
Oh dear.
Second half is an attempt at a spirited comeback, but for all your midfield endeavour, there’s still a lack of cutting edge upfront...and as you pour men forward in search of consolation goals and a modicum of respectability, you’re hit by two sucker punches on the break.
Full time: 0-7. Oppo manager does his best to suppress his obvious desire to gloat and shout from the rooftops, but in truth, you wouldn’t have blamed him if he’d done just that. His team outplayed & outfought us in every department.
The post mortem is dominated by bemusement, as all the possible contributory factors we can come up with (primarily the Saturday night habits of the average 15/16 year old and their possible knock on effect on a Sunday morning football match) apply equally to the oppo – whose players go to the same schools and will have been invited to the same parties. You have detected a possible split between rival school factions within your group – clearly your sister team do not share this problem.
Sunday afternoon
No time to reach for that drawing board... daughter’s u12 team has its second ever 11-a-side game, a friendly against the u13 ‘B’ team from our club, but one with whom we enjoy much better relations than is the case with this morning’s boys’ oppo
The girls take to heart your pre-match spiel about embracing the possibilities of the bigger pitch rather than be scared by it. They keep their shape. They pass & move. They press. For a team that’s never pulled up many trees at 7-a-side, they actually manage to amaze you. A host of missed chances (despite facing a tiny ‘keeper in a mammoth goal) and a couple of moments of indecisive defending in our own box mean the final victory margin is 3-2 when 5-1 would have been a more accurate reflection. Whatever...for a team for whom the elation of winning is one not experienced that often, any win, allied with overcoming any vestiges of fear regarding ‘big pitch football’, is more than welcome.