In 1994, I decided to coach youth soccer. I had just completed my M.Ed, Peabody College at Vanderbilt. I had played youth soccer for the Y.M.C.A. in Atlanta from age 8 until age 16, had been to soccer camp at Clemson University and had actually earned a letter from my high school. So, I felt qualified to teach youth what I knew. I was qualified, but I learned I was quite ready.
The first bunch of guys I had were much smarter than me. One constantly corrected me on my knowledge of the rules. When my directions were not followed, I showed my frustration by raising my voice and arguing with a group of 12 year old Ivy leaguers about who was in charge. To say I lost control of the team that had much promise is inaccurate. I never had control to begin with. For whatever reason, I abandoned the concept of keeping the children engaged, and I completely ignored the parents, except to say, “This is where the practice will be. Pick them up at 6:00 P.M.”
I did not know at the time that I was on the spectrum, but I was aware of being socially awkward. I tried to circumvent this weakness by not involving the parents in any of the team decisions. The youth had named the team a code word that turned out to be completely inappropriate. I received phone calls about that. Several players wanted to be goal keeper, and so I followed a parents’ suggestion to have the players try out. This was disastrous. It was a recreational team, and I turned it into a MLS tryout, leaving one of the losers of the competition in tears. Finally, I was running practices all by myself, making kids wait in a long line to take their turn at the drill. Inevitably, a fist fight among two rivals erupted, leading to several calls to my supervisor who said I had to go.
But then this same supervisor talked to the parents, and quickly realized that I was put in very difficult circumstances, and my efforts, while unsuccessful, deserved rewarding. So, he let me work as a referee. The next season, I became certified. Soon, I was officiating every under 6 game for that Y.M.C.A. I worked to show the same gentle kindness to the soccer tots bestowed upon me. My supervisor took notice, and he decided to give me another coaching opportunity: this time to 5 year olds.
In the season that ensued, in 1996 I worked to correct the mistakes I made two seasons before. Though I ran it imperfectly (I had a disagreement about when to have practices with the parents), I began by having a team meeting with the parents. I had a volunteer to bring Gatorade, one to bring snacks and one to help me coach the games. I made sure at least two parents helped me at practice. Now, I was running three different drills at once. All kids had a ball with them at all times. They were not bored waiting for their turn. I asked the parents for any suggestions they had for improving our sessions. They rarely had any. Since the children were 5 and not 12, my authority was not questioned. To them, I was truly a soccer god to be revered. Finally, I taught every player every position on the field and rotated them regularly so they learned all the points of the game.
This recipe for success would last until 2012. I have about 50 appreciation plaques decorating my bedroom walls. By the time I gave up coaching to focus on disability advocacy, I had coached three different teams to an undefeated season, and I was named coach of the year at two different Y.M.C.A.’s. A key part of all of this success was the patience shown to me by my two supervisors. Neither knew I had autism, because I didn’t know it. But they consistently guaranteed my success by allowing me to call them as much as I needed. I can remember times I called and asked the same question three different ways in the same day. But my supervisor never seemed to mind. He could see my professional growth and the impact I was having on youth sports. I think another big reason for my success was that I always saw myself in the kids I coached. I was both the misfit kid that had few friends and I was often one of the strongest players on many of my teams in my youth. I made it clear that all the kids on all my teams were special. I helped them all to feel like winners, regardless of the game’s outcome. All of them got a personalized trophy at the end of the season. They were all assured of their importance of their success to the team. My youth coaching days marked the foundation of my growing confidence in the working world. It is a key reason I decided to stay in Nashville all these years.
