It was my granddaughter’s first soccer game. She started off well enough, as any small child will who is excited but unsure about what to do, where to go, and simply how to be a soccer player when you’ve only just begun figuring out how to be a whole independent human.
Things went downhill unexpectedly when she bonked heads with another player and just could not find soothing. The tears came, followed by cuddles with her parents (and hugs and gentle pats from her siblings), and then after a bit, everyone encouraged her to get back in the game.
We always have to find that balance between giving comfort for what is scary and hard, and also encouragement not to stay on the sidelines — the literal sidelines, in this case.
It was so adorable to watch her go back onto the field, but she refused to let go of her coach’s hand. Multiple times he tried to persuade her to release his hand, yet he never withheld support. Even when he managed to get her to release and sort of get back in the game, he gently nudged her shoulder to give her forward momentum. When she realized he wasn’t as close by as before, she turned and chased after his support (his hand) again. At first the coach attempted to use his words of encouragement, but when that didn’t work, he gave her comfort again. And finally, when holding his hand was no longer of comfort, he gave her the chance to go back to the arms of her parents.
I couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty of it, the patience and compassion of the coach. Not everyone gets it when they coach tiny humans. They are sometimes too over the top competitively (come on, these kids’ legs haven’t figured out gravity yet) or too gentle. The scene I witnessed modeled how I see good coaching across the board, whether sports with littles or coaching someone’s everyday life.
Throughout my granddaughter’s whole first season, her coach continued to nurture her, meet her where she was, and give her the tools she needed to show up for herself. By her final game, no, she wasn’t suddenly a soccer star, but she was a girl who decided she might keep playing after all. She might not give it up. And even if she changes her mind, she saw it through with the help of a coach that saw it through with her.
A good coach says:
I know you are hurt so take a breather
But I won’t leave you on the sidelines
I’ll want you to get back in the game
And I’ll support you
I’ll go with you
Maybe today isn’t the day you run again on your own
But when you’re ready, I’m here
I won’t give up on you
