The title says it all. There was one year in which I was asked to coach a youth flag football team. Now, I'm pretty knowledgeable about all sports I feel. I know the rules of football, know how the game is played, and how the game operates. However, I never played the game growing up. I watch it, but I never played it. So when it comes to knowing the intricate details of having to coach the game, I have some trouble. For instance, a person who watches basketball but never played it will know what a screen is, but do you know how to properly coach guys to properly set a screen and how to set up a screen? Maybe, maybe not. So I know the game, just not how to coach it.
Fortunately, I'm coaching 4 and 5 year olds flag football. Should be simple. The rules aren't that difficult. Six kids per team, 4 linemen, 1 QB, 1 RB. Simple enough. The problem is, Bud (the leader who feels he knows everything yet knows nothing. I think he was named after Bud Selig) feels as if each kid should learn different positions. Bud wants the kids to be able to learn and play every position on the field. Thus, you have big porker kids (who are obviously on the fast track to offensive lineup) need to be taught how to run quarterback. Meanwhile, my little skinny 35 pound kid must learn how to effectively block said porkers on the line. Bud's idea isn't the best, but I go with it since we're playing by Bud's rules. I now have to teach each player to play each position and after each play in a game, the kids must rotate to a new spot.
The experience of coaching that season was a learning one at best with some memorable moments. The kids seemed to have real fun playing the game, and having it be less physical helped the kids. My biggest regret of that season was probably how I handled coaching my own son more than anything.
It was his first (and thus far, only) attempt at playing football. He's extremely small, like his dad, and probably not best suited for a full contact sport. So he was intimidated to say the least. He wouldn't block or make contact with kids on the line and he would stay clear of the ball carrier for fear of being run over. He made 1 tackle (flag pull) all season. As someone who was volunteering my time and effort to coach, it was frustrating watching my own son not fully grasp the meaning of football. And I took my frustrations out on him.
On at least 4 or 5 occassions I'd catch my son crying over some issue on the field, and it would set me off. Instead of trying to console my son, I'd usually just get more irritated at him when his crying would continue. He would get upset if he didn't score a touchdown. I'd explain to him that not everyone scored a touchdown and do the best I could to calm him down. But when he'd refuse to do what I asked him to do to enhance his chances, I'd get frustrated and get mad. The same would happen when we played another team, the Giants, who happened to have a very large kid on their team that my son was terrified of. During the second meeting with the Giants, my son refused to play all together, leaving my team with only 5 kids on the field. Instead of trying to console him, I'd just get frustrated and mad. Here I would be, trying to get him to play so we'd have a full team, all the while trying to coach the other kids. Id yell at my own son, while making sure the others had a fun experience.
This would continue to be a trend over the next few seasons of him playing youth sports. I'd ensure the other kids had fun and learned, while at times jumping on my own son for not doing what I felt he should be doing. I read a book titled "The Perfect Seaspn" recently where yelling at kids was a topic. I'm optimistic that after reading this book, I will have a new perspective on coaching youth sports, spefically coaching my own son.
No comments:
Post a Comment