This week marks the first anniversary of a football club which is very close to my heart. The club in question is my own Under 8 club of which I have been a coach and assistant manager for the last 12 months. My autism means that I hate being at the centre of attention and find it difficult to speak to lots of people. So how have I ended up spending an evening each week on a football pitch with 14 children and their parents watching, plus our matches at weekends?
I never had any intention of getting involved in football. I have never played it and I don’t really understand the benefits of certain formations or how the off-side rule works. It started when I collected my son from his football training and was told that there were too many children wanting to play and that a few of them could no longer attend. This included my son and a couple of his friends.
Sure, I felt sorry for them but at least I wouldn’t have to spend any more hours standing in the cold and rain watching a bunch of kids run round like headless chickens. Plus, we could always have a kick about in the back garden, right?
Thankfully not everybody gives up as quickly as I do. Within a few days my wife and another parent had come up with a solution - form a new club! Somehow it was suggested that I would like to oversee this new project (not by me!) and when I was asked if I would be up for the challenge, I did the same thing I always do and said yes. The number of things I have ended up doing and later regretting are infinite. It’s not that I’m brave to agree to things, it’s that I’m not confident enough to say no.
The paragraph above starts with “thankfully”. That’s because this thing that I agreed to, has not left me with any regrets. There’s a happy ending except the true ending is still way out of sight because this season we go again. Back-to-back promotions plus winning a cup have made this a season to remember. I can’t say I know what I’m doing, and I have no interest in becoming the next Pep Guardiola, but my kick (see what I did there?) comes from seeing the children making tight friendships and growing in confidence and skill on the pitch. It’s not all about winning but is about having fun and learning to deal with emotions when we lose.
Since my diagnosis I have wanted to make as many people as possible aware of autism and what it is like to be on the spectrum. Now that I have learnt so much about my autism and have carried out so much research into the condition, I feel I should open up, be honest and try to explain what it is like living on the spectrum. So, what is it like being an autistic football coach?
The hardest thing is communication. Talking to people face to face as well as online. Making small talk is something I cannot do. I’m never sure how to start and end conversations, and answering unexpected questions is tricky. I usually try as much as possible to avoid “chatting” with people, so I know I probably come across aloof and unfortunately even rude to the parents who I see each week. These parents give up so much of their time to bring their children to training and matches and cheer them on every game. I often feel bad that I am not able to interact with them as I see other coaches and managers do.
As a naturally quiet person and as an autistic person who can go mute when stressed or overwhelmed, it can be hard to make myself heard when getting the referee’s attention to make a substitution. With 23 years of teaching experience, I do not have issues when talking (or shouting!) at the children. I know it’s strange, but I am so much more comfortable around children than adults. I think it’s because children do not judge, and they have no expectations.
Nevertheless, being on the pitch with the children was initially, and sometimes still is, outside of my comfort zone. I am usually in a classroom with no audience, teaching languages and able to hide behind a foreign mask. Speaking German and French allows me to adopt a classroom persona, very different from me, which enables me to act differently. At football I have no mask to hide behind and I have to be me.
I blame my autism, not sure I can really though (!) for my two left feet. I have no coordination and am bereft of any footballing skill. The only reason I became a runner when I was younger was because I was never selected for teams and the P.E teachers could see I was a lost cause. While the other kids played rugby or cricket, I was made to run around the pitch.
Autism means I like routine. More than that, I need routine. When things change unexpectedly it triggers panic, upset and sometimes anger. We train on Pitch 1 so, if we arrive and find that we have been moved to Pitch 3, I will start stressing. I start imagining that everything will go wrong and that everything I have planned is pointless. I then convince myself that this is all my fault and that everything I do goes wrong. I feel the burn of everyone looking at me and I know they are thinking the worst of me. I know this is irrational but, as my wife always says, it is what it is.
Planning ahead is such a big part of my life. I like to know what is going to happen so I can prepare for it. That’s why I like routine. It means I will have done that thing before and know what it will be like. My top three stress launchers at football? In third place is parking at the match venue. I like to know where exactly I will park so I can play out the day in my head. Not knowing where I will park or if I will even find a space is a worry.
In second place... cup games where the loser goes home, and the winner plays a second match. This means I cannot plan beyond the end of the first game. Are we playing two matches, or will I be leaving after the first one? What time will I be home? What structure will my day have? This is a real headache!
However, first place goes to the cancelled last-minute fixture. A game is called off due to snow or the opposition not being able to field enough players. Just like that plans have to change and that is impossible to deal with.
There’s a lot to running a club which most people are unaware of. The least enjoyable part has to be the meetings. Club meetings, AGMs and online F.A meetings. They are not necessarily dull, though many are, it’s just I hate sitting in large groups where there is an expectation to speak. Walking into a venue or room full of people is especially daunting and I have to rely on my fellow manager to accompany me into places.
I cannot/will not talk on a phone let alone through a computer, so online meetings are always horrendous. It can be hard enough communicating and following conversations face to face, so listening to and speaking to random voices is a real challenge.
Football has slowly invaded my life and I find myself thinking about the team most days. It has become part of my routine and is so ingrained that it would be difficult to stop now! I cannot remember what I used to do with my time in the days before the team started but I can truly say that my experience of children’s football so far has not been an easy ride but has been rewarding and is one of the best things I have ever done.
Comments