This season has seen my son join the school football team. One of my proudest moments as a parent was watching him wear his match shirt and making his debut… as they lost 10-0 (ish?). To protect the egos and reputations of those involved I will not name the teams or the players, but suffice to say our team is still in its early stages of development, and many of its squad (my son included) are still growing into their roles at every level.
Clearly I love football, but I have made a conscious effort not to force it upon my son. However, when the opportunity to play with the other boys every weekend arose, he was very keen to be involved. Most weekends I stand, lukewarm travel mug of coffee in hand, restraining myself from calling out words of wisdom from the side-lines. It’s tricky, but so far on the whole, I like to think I’ve succeeded.
To say that he likes playing is an understatement. His actual involvement in each match is fairly low key (he tends to run away from the ball) but he certainly feels part of the team. It’s mildly frustrating, as at home he never backs out of a challenge on me, yet on the pitch he’s much more uncertain about getting stuck in with the other boys. Similarly the cheeky back heals and turns we practice in the garden somehow never materialise on the pitch.
The volunteer coaches deserve special credit. They have more patience than West Suffolk Hospital, and somehow mange to maintain a level of order and respect that most of us parents can only dream of. Their inspiration is such that, following a 30 second team talk after a heavy defeat, every child comes away beaming with pride and excitement – regardless of the result.
What my boy lacks in skill, physical presence, and general ability to actually kick the ball, he makes up for in enthusiasm and fun. Eternally optimistic, he could teach a few Premiership players a thing or two about sportsmanship and keenness. The simulation and aggression has yet to filter down from the professional leagues to him, although I have to say that even at this young age, there are boys who are already copying their idols foolish habits on the pitch. I hasten to add, I do not hold these young lads responsible for their actions – their multi millionaire heroes have more influence than they can possibly imagine, and they should not forget it.
