I decided to coach my 3-year-old's soccer team, The Mighty Dinos, this spring. No prob. It's a simple game. No hands.
Kids love to run. Kids love to kick. Kids love to run and kick. Kids should LOVE soccer.
They don't. In fact, they would rather do just about everything besides play soccer.
Some enjoy standing. Take my son for example. When the whistle blew to start our very first game, he yawned - nothing exciting here. In fact, he pulled his arms and head inside his jersey, then ran around like a chicken with its head and wings cut off.
Others enjoy eating. Halftime is snack time. One of my boys refuses to play until he finishes all his halftime snacks. If I put him on the field he'll soon disappear and I'll find him on the sideline with his parents, cheeks packed with grapes. Then there was the time one of my kids brought his apple slice onto the field. Knowing it's a choking danger, I took it from him and gave it to his dad on the sideline to finish later. Big mistake. You'd have thought I had told him the Wonder Pets couldn't save Santa. There were huge tears, screaming, no more soccer for him that day, he was done.
But best of all, through 3-year-old soccer, I've gotten a creator's view of the beginning of the universe. At each kickoff, I have 5 little persons assembled in tight quarters. I call this phenomenon "Matter." Then something happens - it could be a whistle, or a kick, but something happens and these 5 particles all shoot off in different directions at the speed of light. I call each kickoff "the Big Bang."
Some form into some sort of ordered particles that chase the ball, most form into unordered chaos, that I must get out of the woods, detangle from soccer nets, or off the fence.
If you want to coach 3-year-old soccer you must be a master motivator and have the patience of Job. A rudimentary knowledge of astro-physics wouldn't hurt either.
Go Mighty Dinos!
