My own personal Jesus

In this job, you can never switch off. You’ve always got to be looking out for ways to gain a competitive advantage over your rivals. Show me a U-10 coach who thinks otherwise and I’ll show you a man who gives out participation medals to his squad at the end of every losing campaign. That’s what I’m thinking this morning, sitting in church, silently cursing the amount of time I’m wasting here when I should be at home planning for forthcoming practices.

Then Jesus, obviously empathizing with my discomfort and hearing my prayers, delivers a sign that he’s always paying attention, even to the sinners in his flock.

‘Hey coach,’ whispers the father of one of my players, tapping my shoulder on the way up to communion. ‘I was wondering if you have any room on your rosters for new players.’

‘Not really, after the try-outs, we had more than two kids for every spot.’

‘That’s a pity because my friend’s son is really eager to play and I think he might be useful.’

‘Did he try out?’ I ask as some worshippers nearby tut-tut, oblivious to the importance of our conversation obviously.

‘No, see, he was a football player first and foremost and didn’t expect to have time for soccer this fall.’

‘So what happened?’

‘Well, don’t say you heard this from me but he was thrown off the football team for being too aggressive and too rough. He kept hitting his own team-mates too hard in practice. He’s a little violent.’

If it was a movie, a Hallelujah soundtrack would have kicked in as the Jesus statue on the altar came to life and started doing keepy-uppies to reflect my joy.

‘You are kidding me?’

‘No, I thought, with your, eh, unorthodox approach, you might like to give him a chance.’

I nod my head in affirmation. Too aggressive for the football team. Too rough!!

‘Well, when a kid gets rejected by one team, it’s our job to rehabilitate him. After all, it is the Christian thing to do!’