It’s time for us to reclaim soccer for America and bring back the halcyon days when we could beat those stuck up Brits with only a butcher, a baker, and an adult-toy-maker for players. For some reason, after we humiliated them at their “own game”, we got it into our heads that what we needed was to invite their washed up has-beens over here to coach our kids. All these years later all we have to show for it is a crowd of knocked-up soccer moms and a national team of six foot twelve long ball punters. Jeez we even had to get President Obama to capitalize on his resounding success with the IOC and speak to the Honduran ambassador to arrange a missed PK so that we could be invited to the big dance.
So, for me, the days of lend-lease in reverse are over and we can repatriate those guys to the land of rain, bad teeth and even worse food. Our club is leading the way with an American coach!
Gotta say he’s made a huge impact already. Two kids were late to his first practice and he made the whole team run until they puked. Now that is coaching! In the first game he instantly spotted that we were tactically naïve and worked hard to snuff that out by having the boys run until they puked. Then the problems with some of the kid’s first touch was put to bed with some in depth sessions of running until they puked. Discipline is also much better since he brought in a rule that every yellow card means you run until you puke, and every red card means you run until your mother pukes.
Tonight is his first ‘meet the parents’ night. I’m not sure what to expect but I’ll be taking my sneakers and a sick bag just in case.
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