These Kids are Softies

Today was the last day that I had to do the holiday program for coaching kids. These programs don't really bring out the best footballers. More of the kids that the parents are tired of having around their house so they ship them out to us. I don't really get it though. I don't think I was that dumb when I was 7, 8, or 9. Shoot when I was eight I was playing on a u-10 team and when I was 9 I was playing on a select team. These kids are just plain idiots though.

Kid- "It wasn't a hand ball."

Me- "Where did it hit you."

Kid- "Right here (Pointing right to his hand)"

Me- "What part of your body is that?"

Kid- "My hand"

Me- "That answers your question."

I know all the boys will be upset with what I am about to say but I did not see one girl cry during the time I was there. Meanwhile the little boys were crying over little scratches or getting tackled to the ground. It's either this country's little boys or something I don't know. Somebody gets hit in the hand and they just start crying for a good 15 seconds. Maybe they haven't felt enough pain yet to know that this really isn't worth crying for.

Today, I almost had enough. Instead of "teaching" them the game, I decided to just throw up the ball in the air and let them play. I sat down on the ground and just watched them go. There was one kid who didn't belong playing with these kids. He was really good and kept on dribbling around the little babies. I should have sent him to the older group but if I would have done that then I would have to be chasing after the ball out of bounce because the kids were spraying it every which way.

Kids wanted desperately to splash around in the mud. During the breaks they were all over the park just rolling around in the mud and having a good time. I wanted to explain to them that they could do manual labor where they are underneath a bridge all day taking out heavy boarding in knee deep mud and taking them out of the bridge. That's what me and Greg did on Monday. He went back out there on Tuesday also, but that was hard work in itself and I was only out there for about three hours and I was pooped after that. I was getting cut up and scratches everywhere. Wait a minute, these kids can't handle scratches.

Alright my kid rant is over with. That's not the real depressing part of my days. I don't want to get into all the other nonsense of my time here because I'm going to take a page out of my friend Aaron's book and try not to get emotionally attached during my post.

By the way, Son, you need to get back writing something. Even though you out there getting free preds and going to all the regional tournaments for free!!! the world needs to see your wisdom again.

Okay I'm done.