“And This One Time, At Soccer Camp…”
By: Sean | August 12th, 2009
Nothing says August to me like soccer camp.
All of the local soccer fields start to take on new life after months of relative neglect. The first coach with a ball bag to arrive is like chum to the dozens, maybe hundreds of little camper sharks that arrive soon thereafter and tear into the cones and number four balls in a frantic football frenzy. Stretches turn into laps around the pitch. Laps around the pitch turn into juggling and juggling turns into dribbling, passing, and shooting drills. At some point, future little stars will emerge and just as surely, the two or three problem children that inevitably show up will be asked to sit on the sidelines for a timeout. It is wonderful and chaotic and reassuring, all played out in (what feels like) the hottest time of the year.
Growing up, I think I only went to maybe two camps during high school and alas, I have no epic adventures to report…certainly nothing coming close to Band Camp from American Pie. Oh, Alyson Hannigan, why couldn’t you have been a holding midfielder instead of a flutist? I would have said your name. The day camps I participated in were competently run and I definitely gained more from the experience than not, but beyond the illustrated booklet of soccer-playing mice I got from Werner Quies and a nice compliment from the late soccer legend Clive Charles for beating two much taller defenders in the air for a header, I don’t have much left from soccer camp as a participant.
How about you, Weekend Warriors? What is your best soccer camp memory, experience, or story? Ever have a pro show you how to do a sick trick that you actually used later on? Go to a residency camp and find yourself in a situation you never would have imagined? Ever been a coach at a camp with Lil’ Damien the Antichrist? After two consecutive really long posts, I’m hoping you have some anecdotes of your own to share.
Unless your soccer camp anecdote involves sticking a flute soccer ball pump in your…oh, never mind…
Category: Orange Slices and Aspirin
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I remember a kid who, at the beginning of daily doubles, announced to anyone who’d listen that he had attended “speed camp”. That guy (a nice kid – lanky and a bit goofy) ended up the slowest bench warmer on the JV squad that year. I mean, he looked like he was playing in slow motion. He was so slow, he made me look fast…and that’s sayin’ something!
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