Learning to Coach - Lesson #4
I received a phone call from a woman who was friends with a coworker whose cousin was moving to Wisconsin from Panama. Is that confusing? It seems the woman who called me knew a friend of mine named Chip, who gave her my number. Still confused? Here’s the long and short of it. They were calling about a 12-year-old boy who was very good at soccer. Of course he is, I thought to myself. If you’re in club soccer, you’ve heard this before; the unbelievable player, from a soccer playing nation (excuse me, but boxing and cricket are more popular in Panama), whose probable professional career was cut short by an ill-timed family move to the states. He’s-it’s always a he- looking for a club and you won’t be sorry.
I spoke with the woman, who got me in touch with the cousin, and I set up a practice for the boy to attend. Mom, Dad, two young daughters, and their son Amilcar arrived at the gym for our winter training. They didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Spanish but, big deal, playing soccer is universal and oh my, Amilcar was good. We didn’t have any room in his age group (u13), but we had room on the U14’s. Amilcar joined my team.
By the time I coached Amilcar, I’d been coaching for about 11 years, but I’d never coached anyone who didn’t speak English. I didn’t think it would be hard, but geez was I clumsy. I demoed and instructed, like I always do, but Amilcar didn’t understand restrictions like limited touches or alternate scoring systems. In fact, all nuances were difficult to communicate. I pointed, gesticulated, used my fingers to provide numbers, and kept asking the kids if anyone spoke Spanish. No one did. For his part, Amilcar was hyper-aware. While other kids only half listen, Amilcar was insect-like navigating practice with feel and sight, practicing replication and imitation. He was adjusting better than I was.
I pondered the situation and thought about previous predicaments. I coached after a torn ACL and improved my verbal skills. I coached goalkeepers and learned to teach something I had zero experience with. But in each of those cases, I had words. Now I had to coach without words; something, nearly impossible for a person whose hobbies include reading, writing and the occasional public speech. Added to my concern was Amilcar’s own comfort and happiness. Along with being the only non-English speaker, he was the only player of color and his immigrant family had very little means compared to his upper-middle class teammates. In fact, one parent emailed me with the statement, “I thought this was a club for suburban kids,” reminding me that racism and stupidity is alive and well. It was a recipe for a miserable kid. The good news for Amilcar: he was one of the four best players on the team, and the kids appreciated his talent.
Personally, though, I was still at a loss as to how to communicate clearer. Then, during one game it became crystal clear. Games were never an issue with Amilcar, it was practice. During games I had a coaching notebook and used names when showing tactics. Amilcar understood the diagrams and movements just fine when they were on paper and he understood and could read the names. The answer was simple: carry a notebook and pen at practice and have diagrams prepared. It was minimal work and made practice easier for Amilcar.
Coaching Amilcar gave me another invaluable coaching lesson: teaching without words. It only lasted a short time. Like all immigrant kids, Amilcar picked up English quickly, and I was able to coach practice without a notebook. As for me, coaching Amilcar taught me what we’ve all heard one million times, a picture’s worth 1,000 words even when you’re a part time blog writer.
Eventually, Amilcar graduated from Marquette University where he played soccer for four years. Today he is an American citizen with a wife and two boys.
