She hangs her hands to her hips. “And how would you know that? You were still in diapers when I started to play.”
“I don’t think I wore diapers at the age of fourteen.” But I did spend a lot of time on the field, watching my Coach because it was at least a little bit of a distraction. Even when I didn’t have practice, I still showed up. I loved watching because I’ve always been more interested in the coaching aspect of soccer than I was interested in playing the game.
Plus I was a little too drunk at all times to play properly anyway.
Sure, I love playing, but coaching is far more fun to me. I can watch and I don’t get injured. And I still feel the rush, the feeling of wanting to win, or losing a game. I just don’tparticipatephysically. Besides, if either one of the girls I coach makes it out there in the world, I can brag about having taught them all they know.
“You’re old,” Alice mutters under her breath, now crossing her arms over her chest.
I grin. “Nine isn’t that much younger.”
Alice’s head shoots up, averting her eyes on me rather than the pitch. Offended. “You’re like fifty but a young fifty.”
“What’s a young fifty?”
“You.” She gestures to my body. “You’re dressed like a grandpa, but your face looks young.”
I nod, not even taking her description of me badly. I don’t dress like a grandpa, only for practice because I’d like to keep my good clothes clean. Ash pitches do tend to get messy, especially with little girls that like to use you as a tree.
Alice groans when Zoey trips and instead of getting back up, she keeps lying on the ground making snow angels in the ash. “Can’t you make them do Intersquad Scrimmages? You make us do them every time.”
“They’re four years old, Alice. They’re here to have fun, not learn the technicalities of soccer.”
“That’s exactly what they are here for.” She squats down, on the verge of giving up on me. “Have them kick the ball then. Learn how to fucking aim.”
“Don’t swear.”
“Sorry.”
“Good.” I reach for my whistle and blow it to get the girls’ attention, then walk right into the middle of the pitch. “Come here.” I wave them all over and they come running, dropping everything they did before.
Once gathered around me, I wait for the usual group hug, and when it comes, my heart is overfilled with joy like every single time my girls do this.
“All of you did amazing,” I tell them, and they start to cheer. Seeing them so proud of themselves for doing great is one of the best parts of this job. The older girls like Alice just don’t understand why I can’t make four-year-olds do the same practice tasks as I give them.
“We get a sticker?” one of the girls asks, and suddenly twenty of them shoot me the biggest puppy dog eyes known to humankind.
I grin at them and slowly pull out the sticker-roll from my pocket. “Line up,” I say, and they do. For the next four or five minutes, I pull off stickers from the sticker-roll and stick one to each of my girls’ forehead. They’re star-shaped with little praises on them like “Good job” or “Well done”.
They love them. I love them. Unfortunately my older girls are no longer as enthusiastic about the stickers. I make them get them anyway because I can.
???
“How was work?” Doro asks as I come back home and find my way into our living room. Our house smells like food, so I am praying she cooked, and dinner’s ready for me to devour.
“The usual. Alice was all upset over Zoey’s performance. The U15 hada lotto talk about. Mostly boys. And the U19 were flirty as ever.”
“Why don’t you ever just tell them you’re not interested in a Coach-Player relationship with an eighteen-year-old?”
“Because, my dear,”—I plop down on the sofa right next to her—“I don’t want to kill their spirit. Right now they’re really enthusiastic about giving their all to impress me. So why would I be stupid enough to take that spirit away, huh?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”
I stand up again, being in desperate need of a shower. “Unbelievably smart, and not interested in women. So, they can try flirting with me all they want, nothing’s going to come out of it.”
“But I know someone whom you have an interest in.” She follows me into my bedroom.
“Shut up. He didn’t even try to find me all week.” I take off my shirt and throw it onto my floor. I’ll put that away after my shower.