Ten minutes into today’s ridiculous ‘Players Weekend’ farce, I crack. I can’t be silent anymore and I let out a roar at one of the midfielders.
‘Will you please get back into the center?’ I holler.
The referee immediately stops play and walks towards our bench.
‘You are not supposed to be coaching,’ he says.
‘I’m not coaching, I’m just telling him where he should be,’ I explain.
‘That’s coaching and this weekend’s games are all about not coaching and letting the players think for themselves.’
‘Well, you can see that’s not working, is it?’
‘Next time I’m going to eject you from the field,' he warns.
I bite my lip for a few minutes and, in the midst of all this frustration, happen upon an ingenious plan. I make 19 substitutions during the rest of the half, using my subs to impart messages to key players then withdrawing them the next time the ball goes out of play. The weaker kids are thrilled. This is the most action they’ve seen since the season started. They are excited too.
‘We are like the messengers during the Civil War!’ says one kid who obviously pays a little too much attention in school, after I tell him to go on and order one of our defenders to kick their best player hard and often.
‘Are you trying to break some sort of record for most substitutions in a game?' asks the referee at one point midway through the second half.
‘No, I’m just the kind of conscientious coach who likes to give all the kids a fair amount of playing time,’ I lie.
Largely due to my wonderful improvisation, we win 2-0. And, fortunately, I only have to tolerate this ‘Players Weekend’ nonsense once a year.
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