Well, what do you do when Mr. Hyde takes over?

My group of u12 players were playing a makeup game in the afternoon (they had already played a regularly scheduled game in the morning) against a tough opponent we had played several times previously.  For a number of reasons, we only had one substitute for both games (while our opponent in the afternoon had 6); obviously the kids were going to be tired.

We knew the team we were up against…they play a very aggressive, physical, long-ball style, and they are a rival that for some reason brings out some kind of primal instinct.  They treat the midfield the way that people from New York and L.A. treat the midwest – basically, as flyover country.  They had their full complement of players, and I knew that they would try to run us into the ground and force mistakes.  I made sure to remind the team of their tactics – stressing that we should keep the ball on the ground, play quickly, and stick to our own style.  When playing this team, it’s essential that the defenders break their first line of defense and get the ball to midfield as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, the lethargy I observed (and tried to correct) during warm-ups made itself evident once the game started.  As expected, their team put our defenders under immediate pressure, caused a mistake, and were in the lead very early.  It pretty much went downhill from there.  With every mistake, with every foul, with every parental comment, I could feel my blood boil.

At some point I forgot that these were young kids; that this game was merely a small part of each player’s long-term development; that at this age the kids should simply be enjoying the game and learning from it – not worrying about this particular result.  If you read anything from this blog, you would expect (and be correct) that I place long-term development and the kids’ enjoyment at the forefront.  Unfortunately, I must have drank some potion that allowed Mr. Hyde to make an appearance (taking an honest look back I can honestly say it seems like some out-of-body experience), and I ultimately acted in a way that was completely inconsistent with my philosophy and what I am clearly opposed to in this blog.

Let me say that I have had parents actually complain that “I don’t yell enough.”  With this in the back of my mind, I started screaming.  A lot.  I yelled at the kids; I yelled at the referee.  I guess I needed to take a dose of my own medicine.

Because you know what?  The more I yelled, the worse they played.  At a minimum, I certainly didn’t help my team play a better game.  Whatever “correction” I thought I was making was falling on deaf ears.  Instead of inspiring the players, we played down to the opponent’s level.  While the parents may have enjoyed my behavior, I know the kids didn’t.  I did them a disservice, and I made a point to talk about it at the next practice.  I know that they have other coaches from other sports who do scream and yell, but from me it was a shock.

Like players, coaches always need to think objectively about how they can improve.  It is said that adults should always remember to think about their countenance – what does a child see when he or she looks upon your face?  What emotions are you portraying?  What does your body language indicate to your players?  This is a critical component in the development of trust.

Ultimately, I reminded myself that at this age, players need to enjoy playing.  To my great regret, my actions served to prevent that from happening.  After a long look in the mirror, I remembered that it is in fact their game.  As a coach, my role is to guide them on their journey.  When I let them make mistakes and let the game be the teacher, they “get it.”  For whatever reason, last weekend, I didn’t, and I promised myself not to make the same mistake twice.