I don't know a thing about soccer.....

 I always seem to say I don't know a thing about soccer, yet, I'm a soccer coach. I have been coaching high school soccer for three seasons now, and every year I say, "Well, that was exhausting and frustrating and I think I gained 5 pounds," but not this year. This year I am 100% sure why I am a coach, and why I'll stick with it.

Let's put things into perspective so that you understand why I say I don't know a thing about soccer. I grew up playing soccer on the fields of Ignace with Jamie Larson, Joey Zappitelli and the other boys. If you ever go to the back of Ignace school, you will see that there is a section of trees that are perfectly smattered around the yard that instantly become goal posts. At any given time, you would see at least three different games of soccer being played at recess time within the confines of these trees, er....goal posts. And that's exactly what we did. It killed me that I had to walk home for lunch every day because it cut into my soccer time. Eating and walking was cutting in to my opportunity to kick a ball. (As a side note, I remember once deciding to wear a skirt to school, which was a rare thing indeed. It was recess time and I had to dive for the ball, did a complete somersault and flashed my strawberry patterned panties to the world. I was mortified and the boys didn't even notice. They were in the game. Lesson learned on two levels; it's all about soccer, and never wear a skirt to school.)

Then I moved to Red Lake and the boys didn't play soccer. They played tag football instead, and the rules were different, and hormones were involved. *sigh* So I had to wait until we had soccer in gym class, which was always ridiculous, especially because our gym in public school was carpeted. Who the hell decided that it would be a good idea to put carpet in a gymnasium? Hey! Let's see how many kids we can rug burn? Obviously administration at that time didn't think it would be worthwhile to communicate their "new age" concepts with the teachers and students before making that decision. Hmmm........(no, I won't go there. This blog is about soccer.) When I got to high school I was pretty excited because I thought for SURE that there would be soccer. And there was during class time. We all drooled as we waited for the snow to melt so that we could kick the ball around on that swampy, duck laden, bug infested, poor excuse of a field. I even went to the gym teacher and asked if we could start up a girl's soccer team to which he replied, "Girls don't play soccer." I think he's an administrator now. Seriously.

Then about ten years into my teaching career, we were all sitting in a staff meeting and it was decided that there wasn't going to be a boy's soccer team because they couldn't get anyone to coach it. The people that usually coach were burned out, and understandably so. I'll get into why in a few paragraphs, if you'll endure my babbling. Well, I just couldn't let that happen. IT'S SOCCER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! A boy's gotta play soccer (and girls)!!!! So, I volunteered and immediately thought, "Holy shit." I turned to my colleague, Wilkins, and begged for his assistance.

I will never forget being in the gym with a bunch of sweaty teenaged goons, as they slam the ball so hard into the walls of the gymnasium that they were leaving dents. Did that dude seriously just do that with his own body? Holy crap. I was completely intimidated and uneducated. I would go home at night and read all I could about soccer. I was researching the game, trying to figure out the rules, what all of those damn lines on the field were for, and where the heck everyone was supposed to be in that space. And I wanted to do drills with them that actually helped them, that challenged them and I realize now how ridiculous that was. I do remember them telling me that they were impressed that I was taking the time to actually try, that I was showing them that I was at least interested in playing the role of "coach". But basically I just stood along the sidelines at games screaming along with the fans, trying to figure out why they weren't allowed to cross invisible lines. Damn offside rule......Alas, we finished the year, and I chalked it up to another experience and left.

That is until the opportunity arose to coach girl's soccer.This is what I've learned while coaching girl's high school soccer;

1. Catholic girls have potty mouths when they are away from God's ears.This may win them games now, but in the scheme of things, karma will get 'em.
2. Girls wear a lot of jewelry (that ends up loading down my pockets before every game.)
3. Nobody is allowed to bleed on a pitch, but a person can be in complete agony and the game will still play on. 
4. "Some" girls can't sing, but can certainly dangle a ball.
5. We play better in the snow than in the heat.....typical Northern girls.
6. Girls are very gassy.
7. I always miss the goals because I'm too busy looking at the "holes" on the pitch (By the way, I call a soccer field a pitch. Some hate it, some don't. It's just what I learned and I can't unlearn it). I'm an artist, so I naturally look for ways to "balance" and when I see an empty space on the pitch that needs to be filled, I make sure someone is there to fill it. I have based my practices on space. It's kind of funny if you think of it that way. Just about as funny as an artist coaching soccer.  
8. We should always have the "honeymoon" suite when we have out of town games because playing charades and painting our nails together are team builders! 
9. Because I don't know the proper terminology for anything, we have come up with some really goofy names for some of our tactics we use such as "do a ham and cheese on rye", "pull a Diego", "fill that pocket", "dig in" or "shake it off like a zebra". We all know what that means, but the other teams thing we're weird. haha
10. Girl's are emotional and play soccer with their hearts more than their feet. To date, with every game we have dedicated to someone else, we have either tied or won. Let me elaborate;

 Last year, one of our key defense players schmucked her knee really badly in the first five minutes of the soccer season. We thought she might be out for a game or two, but she ended up not being able to play for the whole season. She now has metal in her leg, and couldn't play any sports for a year. I think Syd is still struggling with knee problems. We dedicated a game to her and kicked butt. This year, one of the coaches from another town forgot her sportsmanship and was not very polite so I asked the girls to kick ass so that I could live vicariously through them, and they did just that for me. We also dedicated a game to my son who came to practices after school at least once a week, helped move pylons, and made sure we knew what time it was. And he's just damn cute and deserves it. But last week was the most important game we've ever played. A girl from our school was flown out to a city hospital, highly ill and struggling for survival. Most of her friends are on the soccer team and they were really trying hard to keep composed for the day. They knew that we were hosting the first soccer tournament the school has ever had, and that the whole school was going to be watching. The pressure was on to perform and there was a huge ache in their hearts. They dedicated their game to this girl, saying, "If she can fight hard for her life, we can try our hardest on the field." I didn't have to say a thing. These girls play with their hearts. I'm just the lucky one that gets to be in their presence and share the experiences with them.

 Every year I say to myself that this will be the last year that I will coach, and I have to be honest, I said the same thing this year. It's extremely exhausting and I give up a lot of time with my family to do this. It's tough to do as a single mom, and I become highly dependent on others to fill those "pockets" for me. But there is something so rewarding about coaching these girls. I don't go into it to win, even though I truly do love to win, don't get me wrong, and it is a goal that I set with the team, but I coach because it's damn fun. And kids are good. And when they're not good we sit down together and talk about it as a team, and learn from the experiences, and move forward. As I coach, I watch these girls balance their school work, and their jobs, and their social situations and family dynamics, and they still come to practice with a smile on their face and a yearning to be supportive of others. Wearing a medal around the neck won't change that. They may not know it yet, but they've already won. And so have I.

Thanks girls, for an awesome season!

Click here to see how the girls dedicate their games.....



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Toasty Thoughts on Toast

I write this shortly after eating a toasted egg sandwich that really wasn't evenly toasted. Disappointing. One side was obviously colder and softer than the dark, rich, crunchy bread to its immediate right (or left depending on how I ate the sandwich). Why is the idea of eating a completely evenly toasted piece of bread such a difficult concept? Why can't I have the fantastic experience of eating pumpernickel or rye holistically with sheer satisfaction? I'll tell you why; because in this crazy world, everything is exponentially larger than it needs to be, regardless of what that "it" is. It's because bread slices have been getting bigger and bigger, but toasters haven't. You would think that someone like Dyson would notice this by now. He probably doesn't eat toast. He probably just eats grass. Then you're probably thinking, if we made toasters bigger to accommodate bigger pieces of bread, then we'd be stuck with these big honkin', bulky toasters on our counter and that would just look weird and be downright inconvenient. But I don't think it needs to be like that at all, well, to a degree. I think that if they just found the biggest slice of bread they could imagine, and used that as the basis for the size of the toaster, then it would all be good. It's kind of a 'one size fits all' dealy. To this, you probably think, but what if I put a small piece of bread in that toaster? I'll have to use a knife to get it out (Yes, you have. I know you have.) and perhaps risk getting electrocuted (because I know you also occasionally forget to unplug it while fishing for that little piece of burnt bread.) Here's the solution; SENSORS! Sensors seem to be the answer to everything now a day and they're used for everything; from automatically opening and closing the garage door to ensuring that your dog stays in the yard….why can't they be used in a toaster? The toaster would automatically sense the size and weight of the bread in the toaster and instantly adjust the "basket" or internal walls of the toaster so that it gets just the right amount of equal toastiness from all angles. So if a small piece of bread is in there, the bottom of the basket just rises a little. Brilliant. No more soggy egg sandwiches. 


So let's go back to size for a moment because if you're from a family of four and have one of those 4 slice toasters, then you are probably imagining a dishwasher sized toaster sitting on your counter. But perhaps I could propose the concept of excessiveness, and that perhaps we all just need a one slice toaster; especially if its sensors have just indicated that it has the largest slice possible sitting in its slot. Maybe that one slice could even be cut in two and shared after it is toasted. And then perhaps you think about time and how hectic your mornings are and how inefficient it would be to have to put one slice of bread in the toaster at a time. But maybe on "toast days" (instead of oatmeal or cereal bar or grass eating days), you would wake up a bit earlier, use your time a bit wiser, and leave more room to congregate with your family in the kitchen while everyone waits for their token piece of perfectly toasted toast. *Ding!* Maybe the toaster is like a metronome, set on the slowest pace possible, to make a family stop. ….just stop and wait for their toast and fill that time with conversation. You could say things like, "I wonder how that toaster makes such a perfectly even piece of toast?" or, "I wonder what Dyson eats for breakfast?" 


Hmmmmmm…..I don't think I was trying to get too philosophical or metaphorical with my thoughts on toast. Mind you, you can take them anyway you want. These are simply the kinds of thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis. I don't know whether that makes me insane, or ingenious. I truly think that I may have been an inventor in a past life, albeit, not a very good one, because I have no engineering savvy or fathomable comprehension of physics in the least. Planes flying through the air are sheer magic to me. Projectable hunks of metal carrying hundreds of people over an immense ocean are sheer magic. Toasters that can toast evenly are sheer magic. Sweatshirts made out of recycled pop bottles….you got it….magic. But I'm always thinking of ways to make that experience just a little bit more magical, even if not very logical. 


So here's a toast to the modern toaster. Cheers!