The director of the football club sent me a terse response with my requests to dump a player and his dad from my team as they were a pain in the arse. The kid had complaints from the girls regarding his rather overuse of the “hand to breast” tackling method that FIFA have yet to ratify as legal in our sport.
Along with being the most disruptive, unruled and annoying kid at training, he was late to games and and and and….
His Dad is to blame. Turns out his Dad once was manager of the club or something. And he is a handful himself. The other parents complain about the Dad. So do the kids. Yet the son probably plays up with me as his Dad once had all the authority.
Well, piss off. The both of you.
The director of football said “REMEMBER, NZFIEND, IT IS NOT ALL ABOUT THE FOOTBALL”.
This got my energy flowing. I was walking 500m down the road to get a small cafe meal at midnight as had forgotten the shops were all shut for Easter and had no food in the house… So, in shorts an t-shirt with a wind chill of around freezing, I stood motionless for half an hour and wrote this on my smashed screen smart phone…. As, per usual, those who read this often will know about my allergy to anything remotely considered EDITING, PROOF READING or attempting to write proper England….
This is copied and pasted directly from cellphone.
It could be ugly…
Mate, it has EVERYTHING to do with football. Teaching new kicks – inswing, top spin, bottom, left foot, right foot – and seeing them work in games. My 7, 8, 9 and 10 aged girls scored a goal from goal kick to left back, control, pass to right half on touch line. Controlled and chipped with backspin over midfielder to right winger who caught up with ball before goal line and crossed ball to centre spit where right back had sprinted to and left foot inswinger to top right corner. Last game on turf at ________. We lost 7-0 to that ________ team at the start. We won 4-0 in last game I think it was. The seven year old and the small Chinese 8 year old and the dislexic who was astounding her mum just by aiming the correct way on the field… and the kid who is brilliant with beating 5 players, sometimes the same player, during a run into the goal as she had no shot… All the team beamed. The parents all were proud as punch. The ref / coach allowed himself a high five with a player or two and helped the opposition team coach with a few ideas to help them spread and defend. Their coach congratulated me. Their parents all applauded our team and some players on outstanding shots and efforts. Our teams parents became surprised when Aleah did not score from inside her own half with a left foot bullet, but the other teams were still new to this concept of a ball leaving a foot and RAISING the whole way to the net. Thr seven year old who refused to kick with left foot as she “just couldn’t “… who scored a goal with a left foot drive shot the very next game. I could type for days about purely football.
But then the other teams supporters, including prominent lawyers, police, and people of high intelligence and good standing in the Wellington community. They see tattoos, bad haircut and maybe some implementation of things outside the rule book per se. The lawyer recognised me. So did the senior police. As do any number of parents.
My team bet a team coached by a guy who has played and won a Chatham cup. He takes himself very seriously. He is a financial guy who made a bit of cash setting up windfarms in Germany decades ago, or something.
His team bet ours twice. Then we, with our junior juniors, beat them twice. He came close to being impressed. “How did you guys go today? Won everything I guess?””
Well, yes we had actually drawn one game out of three… Hardly surprising he says.
The parents of my team may not care for me, but those with their eyes open have been very happy. The kids pass backwards towards their own goal to find a player in better position, rather than give ball away to opposition.
Other teams parents come up and chat for a long time after games. My team makes friends with the other teams.
I am so proud of the kids, and myself for teaching them to play football and the positions and teamwork therein.
Unusual stuff, but the flash lawyer was laughing so hard at some of my referee explanations and ways of dealing with stressed goalies, injured kids (his as it happens ) and seeing us there an hour after game doing fun learning shots, crosses and headers, that he gave me a very appreciative contact. Ended up being invited to some rather swish members only clubs where there were some real swish corporation types.
Although not converting them all to card carrying communists just yet, their kids chit chatting about how cool our team was… well… David, it is about football
It is not about making things easy for your team mate by passing to players nicely. It is not about getting the fastest, longest, most passes goal. It is not about fun, friends, developing skills like listening or respecting others. It is not about how you had no self confidence and now you are proud to run out, do your best and make up for giving the ball away, by getting it back.
It is just football.
To get adhd, dysfunctional dyslexics, occasionally bullied and downtrodden by parents who dont know how to relate to their kids as they are too busy being addicted to their capitalist careers and paying off the nannies new X5…
I purely deal with kids and football.
If a kid, who shall remain nameless, is annoying some of the girls at training by continuous use of a tackling technique involving far too much contact with breasts and his palms, then the team gets sat down and told about growing up too fast, respect for others, and the little known Fifa regulation that this technique is instant red card. I spoke for ten minutes that day. I touched on addictions, sex, not trying at school, riding motorbikes, injuries, pain, getting old, gaining undeserved reputation s.
A few parents came over to listen. The kids ignored them, as did I.
The coach was talking about football. Even if every kid there got that one or two tit bits were for them directly.
The parents put away their astounded expressions and ambled away with quiet, thoughtful expressions.
None said anything. But they all offered to help carry the team kit to my car.
So, it is all football. I have been teaching kids who have never kicked a ball, how to kick for years.
If one cannot talk, and the other cannot hear, they end up communicating well and happily whilst kicking to eachother.
Jets have some very new, raw players. One cannot comnunicate at this stage. Have had one little training where a few girls from _______, a few _________and _________showed up. The players whom could not kick last year look bloody professional.
And you know what? I have even been seeing a young lady in a kind of “couple ” capacity. This is not entirely unusual. What is unusual is that was all football too. She decided to teach me how to shoot when she saw me with a football walking past a field. I allowed her to teach me. As wearing steel cap boots ruins the finer points of spherical ball long distance distribution, when she looked like taking her pretty face and long legs elsewhere, the steel caps came off, the slide tackles came out, the shot aimed at her right hand from the edge of the box gave her right hand little chance of totally getting out the way.
Turns out she claims to have represented New Zealand as girl footballer. I looked her up. She is not far wrong. Pity she is a stunner and half my age. Still, it is just about football.
There is some sort of a lesson here somewhere.
You don’t know of a Mr ____________ by chance? Ask him about me and tell him I say hi.
He has nothing to do with football.