Soccer

What a week for the round ball game. Liverpool! Spurs! Marrickville Red Devils U6's Navy!

Yes, we have recently entered the world of Saturday morning sport.

Before the first game, R and J were pretty excited. On the walk home following after-school care, they told me how a Kindy friend was teaching them soccer, because he had an older brother that had taught him. "We were practising kicking the ball hard in the air," R said.

"Maybe you should pass along the ground with the side of your foot, like how Coach Dan taught you?", I suggested.

Coach Dan ran a pre-school soccer skills class they attended for about six school terms. 

My suggestion was met with blank stares.

"Remember what Coach Dan taught you?"

"No," they said in unison.

Six terms costs a lot of money.

"Well, I think you should kick the ball along the ground," I said.

They explained how their friends brother was really, really good. Now to be fair to their friends brother, I think he is an U9 Academy player, so he is good. But to be fair to Coach Dan, he is a full-time FFA accredited coach.

"Who do you think might know more on this, a kid from your school or a professional soccer coach?", I asked.

After a delay as they mulled over the two options I presented, they both replied that the kid from their school would know more.

*       *       *

For the first game, their squad of 10 was split into two 5 vs 5 games against another side. R ended up on one field, and J on the field next to it. We ended up standing between them trying to look in two directions at once.

On the right field, the kick off was taken by one of R's team mates. R and the others just stood still. Helpfully some parents called out to get the ball and they started running.

Meanwhile on the left field, the team manager was telling the kids the most important thing for their very first U6 game: to keep the ball inside the cones. Then the whistle went and J raced off, dribbling the ball... to the left, sideways, and straight into a third game involving two other U6 teams.

*       *       *

It wasn't a great start, but it turns out six terms of soccer lessons they don't remember has given them a significant leg-up on most of their opponents. The coaching was never intended to cultivate soccer skills - it was just an activity designed for my wife to escape the house and catch up with mothers group friends - but we have unwittingly developed good players for their age group... at least until all the other kids work out what they're doing too.

J is especially good at this stage. But worryingly he knows it. We've focused praise on trying hard and doing your best, but he is both competitive and able to count, so he keeps score in his head and can tell when he is slaying it.

I said to him at the end of the first game, "did you have fun?"

"Yes," he replied. "But I would've had more fun if we didn't lose 6-3."

"The score doesn't matter. I'm proud that you kept running and didn't used your hands."

"Yeah, and I also didn't push anyone over."

"Ok, that's good too J."

I made a mental note to watch my back.

After that, J had two massive wins and scored quite a few goals. Then we watched the Dragons losing in the NRL and he got really upset. I tried to explain: "sometimes you win, and sometimes the other team is better and you lose, even when you try really hard. Like at your soccer, you will sometimes play someone better and lose."

"I will never lose," he replied stubbornly, forgetting the 6-3 scoreline from the first match. "And I will always score goals. I am the best soccer boy in the world." 

Then after a pause he qualified by saying, except for his Kindy friend with the older brother who taught him.

There is a tantrum coming to an Inner West soccer field on a Saturday morning soon.