I had the pleasure of coaching my teenage son’s soccer team at the Provincial A Championships in Richmond last Thursday through Sunday.
I say “pleasure” in the broadest terms, as there was a fair dose of pain administered to temper the endorphin release.
It was said, however, by someone more learned, that “to truly appreciate the feast, you must first endure the famine.”
First, to the famine; in this case, in the shape of soccer players, or the lack thereof.
Without getting into the specifics, the team was a late call-up to the provincials and several on the roster had either moved on or committed elsewhere.
As well as a short bench, there was also a shortage of energy from those who did make it, I suspect due to some not preparing properly for the task ahead. Defeat swiftly followed.
The famine continued through Friday against last year’s provincial champion with the common thread of words beginning with the letter “R.”
“Referees,” “Respect” and “Restraint,” the latter of which proving difficult to pull off, given the effect of the former.
Quite what the former was watching is a matter for the soccer gods, but it wasn’t what I was watching, hence the dire need to dig deep into the latter.
No shock, therefore, that another loss – and, as a result, no chance of gold – ensued.
The middle of the three Rs, “respect,” arrived after the final whistle when our boys, rightly aggrieved at what just played out, were told by myself to swallow their pride hard, line-up and make the first move to shake hands with the opposition.
I told them that I felt their pain and there will be times growing up when you dearly want to punch someone in the face but have to restrain yourself.
They were asked to “take the high road” and it worked, right off the bat, with one of the opposition refusing to shake hands. Their coach, upon learning of what happened, sought me out to apologize for his player whom, I’m told, was given a lecture about respect. Job done.
With the famine still fresh on the palate, the feast flowed on Saturday with a tasty defeat of the reigning league champion.
Restraint, however, was again called for in abundance when it became apparent parents of the opposing team were verbally abusing one of our players.
Apparently, the authorities are dealing with it, but I’ve yet to hear any action taken by the time of writing this.
Although the feast rolled into Sunday in the bronze medal game, even more restraint was required when the referee, who’d clearly rewritten the rule book on his own, lost control of a bad-tempered match-up, resulting in a melee and a flurry of red cards in the final seconds. We won 1-0.
I opted for no hand-shakes this time, instead clearing the scene to defuse the tension.
A few life lessons were delivered over an eventful four days, packed full of famine, feast and a few “R” words that were much easier said than done.
