Home of the free, land of the bribe

You know try-out season is looming when the unsolicited gifts start arriving at your door. The local butcher’s truck pulls up outside this morning and hands me an enormous case of baby back ribs. A gift from an admirer? Sort of. Just the first bribe to come my way from a smart father doing what he can to help his son make the cut at try-outs.

I carry the box into the kitchen like a child proudly bearing a trophy. I make a huge deal of hoisting it onto the island where wife is sitting having her coffee.

‘What do you think of this then?’ I ask.

‘What is it?’ she doesn’t even look up as she speaks. Typical of her lack of interest in my career.

‘A giant box of baby back ribs from the butcher.’

‘You bought this?’ The voice goes up an octave. As usual, she’s looking to make this about me spending money I don't have.

‘No, it’s a gift from a parent.’

‘What?’ I’m not sure why she sounds so incredulous.

‘Just to thank me for doing such a great job with the kids,’ I continue, wisely deciding not to mention it’s a very obvious attempt by a rich Dad to buy his son’s place on next fall’s squad.

She’s so taken aback she’s unsure how to respond to this. ‘Eh, really?’

‘Oh  yeah,’ I say, trying to play it down while simultaneously having a jab about her continued lack of support. ‘It’s just great to be acknowledged for the work I put in, the way I’m changing these kids’ lives.’

I walk out to leave her staring at this tasty token of appreciation, hoping it might make her realise what a coaching giant I’ve become. I go upstairs and put a new entry in my book.

Commandment of Travel Team Soccer Number 91: A good coach cannot be bought by wealthy parents with more money than sense but he can definitely be sweetened.