Not even 24 hours later, I am reminded why I coach. We played against a horrible coach yesterday. A small man. Both in stature and in character. A man who had to make up for his fears and insecurities through his team of kids. And like small men often do, he brought along three assistant coaches with him. He covered his weakness and ineptness with numbers. “Yes men.” I could definitely pick up on the fact that they all fell in line with his approach. I’d wager not one of them ever voiced a disagreement with him.
We play flag football in a leisure league designed for kids new to the sport. This league’s purpose is to promote sportsmanship, teamwork, mutual respect, and love for the game of football. In every way that matters, it is at it’s core, a beginner’s league.
This little-man-syndrome coach brough his entire competitive tackle football team with him to play in a leisure flag football league. And on top of it all, proceeded to encourage cheating.
My players came to me during the game. They asked me to watch out for this kid who was not only flag-guarding but covering up knots he tied to prevent his flags from being pulled off.
The first time the kid scored, my entire defense nearly pulled off his shorts trying to get the flag off. I thought I had seen the red flag get pulled and tugged and not fall, but I wasn’t entirely sure.
The second time the kid scored, it was on a long touchdown run. I saw it this time, clear as day. My best player got a hold of the flag, pulled, and the flags remained up due to some knot or mechanism at the front of the belt holding the belt up against the kid’s belly, as my defender pulled the flags from the player’s backside.
I walked towards the kid, spoke to the ref, and asked for a flag check.
The Napoleonic coach steps in front of the kid, the kid I notice, turns his back to me, adjusts something at belt level as the coach yells at me, “you talk to me, or you talk to the refs, you don’t address my kids.”
Fight, flight, or freeze. I am a freeze. I am not good in the moment. I’m good at preparation. Good at reflection. Reflecting on it, what better way to cover up the cheating, than to act as if you were the victim of an opposing coach asking for a flag check? And then act “noble” in an attempt to protect the kid you encouraged to cheat.
Disgusting. Gaslighting narcissism. Always from the most insecure people wanting desperately to be important. To protect their puffed-up image, their ego, at all costs. Even at the grotesque act of manipulating others with lies.
It always leaves me feeling confused afterwards. Being gaslit. Unclear over what happened. Until I can reflect on it. Was I wrong to ask for the flag check?
No.
I didn’t truly know and feel that till just now, when journaling.
The coach stepped in front and made a scene, feigning support to protect his player, while his player untucked whatever kept the belt up from his waistline when he turned his back to me. He covered, in a supposed ‘act’ of nobility; so, his player could cover up the cheating.
Narcissistic gaslighting. The perpetrator acts as the victim in the problem of their own making.
The bottom line is this: If this shitty person is teaching kids to cheat, and to lie, and that manipulation and deception are ok, the kid needs correction. So does the adult, but that’s on the adult. It may be too late for the coach; he may be a lost cause always overcompensating for his insecurities. It’s on the coach to hold himself accountable for his own behavior and his treatment for others.
The kid is still learning. I’m not mad at the kid. I’m absolutely disgusted with the coach. He is in a position of trust, and he is abusing it, infecting those he coaches with poor character traits.
Disgusted – Disapproving – Judgmental
Disgusted – Disappointed – Appalled
Disgusted – Disappointed – Revolted
As coaches, we are leaders. We are in a position of influence and trust. We have so much sway, especially over young kids. We can do so many positive things. And this piece of shit is pushing his inferiority complex onto these kids.
As if bringing down an entire competitive tackle football team to play in an introductory, leisure flag football league is not pathetic enough. On top of that you, as a coach, feeling the need to cheat at the lower level is absolutely deplorable. Pushing and teaching kids this behavior is acceptable, is disgusting.
If the kids are being coached irresponsibly, then I will address the issue openly.
Right after the confrontation with the small coach, the ref, who mind you is a high school student, comes up to me and tells me, “we know what is going on.” The kid tells me the coach is one step away from an unsportsmanlike conduct warning (this would go against this league’s coaching profile of him, affecting his ability to coach with the organization). The kid tells me, “We know coach, we see it too.”
I touch the kid’s shoulder and tell him he has the hardest job out here. I tell him it is a thankless job, but I know it is a tough job. He thanks me.
My kids get back in the huddle; they want to start cheating and playing dirty in response.
I speak rather loudly so the entire field can hear, “We decide how we want to play gentlemen. We will play with sportsmanship, we will play by the rules, we will respect the refs and the other players. We decide who we will be.”
Was there anger and frustration in my voice when I said it? Oh yeah. I wish I could say differently. I was not calm when I stated it.
The game ends. We lose. But not before our team made some really great plays against this coach and his tackle football team.
We go through the line; the first kid out in front refuses to shake anyone’s hands. He is a kid. Highly impressionable. I blame the environment. The tone. The example the ‘leadership’ group sets.
I get to the four head coaches, and they all try to grip my hand as hard as they can. The last being the little man coach, who has a smirk on his face.
I’m 6’ 1”; 230 lbs.; and I’ve been weightlifting for 30 years now. This is nothing new for me; this type of shit happens all the time. Classless attempts at intimidation.
I go back, I give my team a speech that is uplifting, encouraging, and positive. One of the sisters of a player on my team is recording my speech with her phone.
After we break the huddle, the kid ref comes up to me.
“Coach, I just want to let you know you’re the best coach I’ve ever refed, and you are also the nicest.”
Nice, probably not. But kind…I’m trying. I’ll try for kindness. But I have my limits. One of them is cheating. It is a huge trigger for me. It’ll turn me into an asshole quickly.
I tell the kid not to let that other coach get to him, and that he did a great job as a ref.
I learned from the ref, the small-man-coach accused the refs of favoring our team; was intimidating and berating to both refs on the field (again, just high school kids), and he threatened the main ref in the first half, so the ref (again, just a high school kid) had to go get the second referee at half, to have support and to have a witness.
The kid sincerely thanks me again, I shake his hand, he is off.
Later in the day, I get a text from one of the parents:
“Really want to say thank you for your positive approach with the kids. You build them up at every opportunity. My son really needs to see that from males in his life, so I’m really grateful he was put on your team.”
This is why I coach.
Even though I have a horrific case of imposter syndrome.
Even though I have never played an organized game of football.
This is the reason I put up with the anxiety. This is why I let those lil’ fucking Lightning Hornets wash over me every Saturday morning.
Because what I feel should be the standard…is absolutely uncommon.
The ref, the mother, are two instances in a long line of unsolicited feedback I have received from coaching.
This is why I coach.
So many coaches, especially in contact sports like football; there just seems to be a high level of shitty people that are coaching. Inferiority complexes on steroids. Wide awake nightmares. Overcompensating for their own shortcomings onto their players.
The little man coach is just one of many coaches we have witnessed throughout playing in this league. Again, just a beginner’s leisure league for flag football. There should never be an instance where a coach screams and degrades a kid in this introductory league. Yet we witness it each and every year.
It should be very straight-forward. Crystal clear.
Do you want to be a good coach? A good teacher? A good leader?
It’s not about you.
It’s about those who you lead.
You, in a position of leadership, have an opportunity to build up, or to break down, those you lead. Make the right choice.
The cheating kid needs to learn. From someone. Cheating is a learned behavior losers pivot to when they can’t compete straight-up.
You have choices after losing. A good choice is to choose to get better. A poor choice is to start cheating just to protect your ego.
If you need to cheat to compete, you’re a loser. That was your response. Protect your fragile ego. Make up a story in your own head to justify the cheating. ‘I don’t need to improve; the other team was getting favoritism.’
The kid has a chance still. He is impressionable. It may put the bug in his ear there is another way. To know the current coach you’re under may not be 100% correct all the time. His approach could be wrong.
I wish I was good enough to forgive this coach. But I am not. I’m flawed, not the same as he is, but flawed because I’m human. I have trouble tolerating shit behavior; shitty people.
As a coach, it’s not about you.
I can’t forgive this coach. He is instilling toxic, ill-mannered, and poor character traits to young, impressionable, kids.
I have to ask the Lord for forgiveness. Because I cannot forgive him for what he is doing. And I do struggle to forgive my enemies. The enemy here being the coach’s insecure ego which he is going at great lengths to cover and protect.
He has not earned the right to be a coach. But he will continue to coach, and to cheat, and to berate referees, and continue to blame-shift in order to cover for his deep seeded inadequacies.
He has not earned what I already have. The admiration and respect from referees, from parents, from my team, my kids, and others who witness and look at how I operate.
How do you get that as a coach? Real simple. It’s not about you. It’s about the kids.
That’s why the parents follow me.
That’s why it is worth tolerating the Saturday morning Lightning Hornets I get from the rampant imposter syndrome.