This is a question I've wanted to ask over and over again when getting my coach's autograph on my match card after refusing to do something like:
“Do you like soccer and being with kids?”
The most recent match was for the U-16 girls. A cool but cloudless Sunday morning provided ideal conditions for soccer. And the girls eagerly arrived at a bright green field surrounded by California bungalow-style houses clustered together in a neighborhood.
The girls had a blast greeting and chatting with each other while lacing and zipping their backpacks. And yet, when the coaches direct the warm-up and they lecture or sketch on the whiteboard while I keep blowing the whistle to keep things on time, I I didn't see any smiles from the coaches.
Being in the middle of the children's play and competition from the vantage point only referees are allowed makes this generally unappreciated job very rewarding. I was impressed by their tenacity as they worked hard to send the perfect passes that the coach was looking for. I was happy when they succeeded, and I wanted to guess that their reaction was one of confidence-boosting, rather than relief that they would once again be admonished by howls from the sidelines. is.
Their skill level fell short of their ability to carry out the coach's yelling orders, and they seemed to confuse their roles and expectations with those of Premier League managers. “Oh, come on!” one coach responded so often I could hear him from 40 yards away. When the team, with no signs of losing, allowed a shot on goal, the coach responded, “Wake up!''
At times, both coaches shouted instructions at the same time, such as before corner kicks or goal kicks, and words were sometimes lost in the comical cacophony. But every time I looked out to the sideline and saw them pacing, stomping, grimacing, they were a sad sight.
For high-volume requests, this includes wisdom such as “Faster!” — If a scenario were to emerge when tough communication was somehow appropriate, these coaches would be wasting their trust on something like a false alarm in a car.
There are many theories as to why youth coaches make violent gestures and yell angrily, but they are imitating coaches in professional leagues, where television cameras are in the spotlight throughout the game. It's the body. For example, coaches like Jill Ellis, who made history by winning back-to-back World Cups, are ignored by broadcast directors who sit quietly on the bench, and exhibitionist coaches who play for the cameras rather than encourage their players. Liked.
Another theory points to parental expectations.
After the U-12 boys game, where one coach was loudly micromanaging playing time on a small 9-on-9 field, I spoke with the other coach. He rarely got up from his chair and smiled frequently. He is a former college and semi-pro player and has coached various age groups. He said he had to defend his cool sideline attitude to his parents, who interpreted it as him not doing his job.
He clearly encouraged confidence, enjoyment and better play than a yelling opposing manager whose players' anxiety grew as the game progressed. As he stands a few yards away from an 11-year-old who has just been yelled at by an adult, you can clearly see the child's confidence waning.
It was an easy reference for teenage girls. They never ignored the rules. The unusual call came when the goalie picked up a back pass for an indirect kick. I was tempted not to whistle as I watched her face fall as she realized her mistake. But the pass seemed so deliberate that even AR alerted him.
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” she told me. Did she expect me to scold her for her mistakes like a coach?
As I approached the bench for the coach's autograph after the game, I had to interrupt a stern lecture. Even the winning side didn't have a shred of the joy they showed when they took the field for the first time.
On the sideline between the benches for the boys' and girls' games stood a tall pole supported by a tripod, with a robotic-like video camera attached to the top. I would like them to be on the opposite sideline and have the coach set up a chase.
If they were to witness their own body language, they would surely reconsider whether constantly communicating anger and disappointment can encourage better performance in teenagers, or people of any age. right.