How to be a Manager

The notion first hits you about two seconds after you are told by your manager you are not going to start your team’s adult league soccer match…again. Who does he think he is, anyway? you silently grouse. If I were to start…up front…and they would get me the ball…to my feet…regularly…when I’m onside, I would totally score for this team. But you forget about it, you “take one for the team”, and you ride the pine–or more likely, the horribly vandalized aluminum bench that serves as the reserves seating for your local pitch–and wait your turn. Maybe a few weeks later the thought returns, probably after you’ve been forced to play left back even though you can only muster ten guys for this game. Make me play defense…what’s up with that? I should be up front! It gnaws at you, like a low grade headache or a bug bite on your honor you can’t fully scratch. I should totally be the manager. It’s so obvious. You could instinctively pick the perfect formation every week. You could play up front and bag a hat trick at least every other week. Of course!

But how? Well, running an adult recreational soccer team isn’t always about the fame, glory, money, power and mad sex it may seem to be…though it can be. (Ha!) Sure, it may seem like a pretty sweet gig, especially when you are doing tequila body shots off your club’s drunken WAGs following another successful rout of your rivals, but organizing fifteen to eighteen adults with or without jobs, families, children, vacation plans, and niggling injuries that get worse as you get older to be at the same field at the same time on the same date to play a full-contact sport for an hour and a half a week for two months a season can be a tricky thing.

Your friend Sean at the Weekend Warrior wants to help. He really does want you to start every weekend and play forward, too. Sometimes the best way to do that is just to be really, really good at forward, but unless your squad plays a 1-1-8, not everybody is going to be a striker. Sometimes the best way to do that is to be the Manager. The Boss. The Gaffer. Coach. Skipper. Let me offer you some humble suggestions to make all of your managerial/scoring/tequila body shot WAG dreams come true.

First, you’ll need a team. You can accomplish this in one of two ways: 1. Get a bunch of guys you scrimmage with together, point out how awesome you would be as a team, and plant the seed. If more than six people perk up and think this would be a good idea, sweet! Any six soccer players generally know six other soccer players or at least six people who like to play soccer, so that’s a good start. 2. Hit the existing manager in the knee with a stick, rendering him unable to carry out his duties. At least, that’s what we do in Oregon. We call it “getting all Tonya Harding on your ass.” (Don’t really do this.)

OK, so I’ve got a team forming here…how many players do I need? You will need twenty players. But Sean, I want a smaller squad so we get more playing time and don’t sit out very long. You will need twenty players. Really, everybody is going to be at every match. You will need twenty players. Life happens (unfortunately) and at some point during the course of the season your keeper will be traveling for work, three guys will be injured, two guys will be on vacation, your center midfielder’s kid will have a tournament and one guy will just mysteriously not show up. Until you’ve had your team together for a few seasons and can really see how the attendance works out, trust me…you will need twenty players.

Now that you twenty players for your team, you’ll need a team name. Please refer to this previous post for an in-depth discussion of the importance of selecting an appropriately awesome name: F.C. (Insert Clever Name Here). Please note: Do not name your team “Sore Legs” or some such variation if you intend to be taken seriously. My indoor squad is playing “Sore Legs” in five hours and I can’t muster any respect for them based upon their name alone. No offense to any “Sore Leggers” out there. I’m sure you are fine people.

You’ll need uniforms. If you work for a major sportswear company, score! If you do not, you can buy some kits or you can tell everyone to wear the same color. From experience, I would stay away from black or white, mostly because half the teams in your league will be black or white. Or blue. Or red. And you don’t want to have to wear neon pennies or go skins because you are technically the “away” team that Sunday and have to change–either look isn’t as intimidating on the pitch–so pick a non-traditional color or bring two sets of shirts. Some teams like to have the same kit as their favorite professional club, which is fine. However, you should be pretty good to do this. You want to represent your team favorably and beating the “Portland Gunners” in their Arsenal kits 17-3 does not make Mr. Wenger very proud.

So you have twenty guys and matching shirts with a bitchin’ name…what next? You need money, son! Nobody is going to let you play for free! How much do I charge everybody? The simple formula is [team registration fee]/y where y = # of players, or 20. However a better formula for adult leagues is this: ([team registration fee]/y) x (z) + 200/y in $/player where y = # of players + 1, or 21 and z = alcohol fee multiplier, or approximately 1.5. Note: This multiplier increases to 2.0 as the median age of your team approaches 21. The 200/y in $/player value represents all the team balls that will get kicked over the fence or swiped by the opposing team during the course of the season and the y value increase to 21 represents the one guy who will not pay up, mysteriously disappear before the season is over, or perhaps a tidy bonus for all of your diligent managerial work! “Hey, coach, is that a new pair of Tiempos you are wearing?” Why yes, yes they are…

OK, I’m all registered for the season and I got everybody to pay up…how many times a week should we practice? Dude, if you can get your entire team together more than once a week to practice, much less play, you are a better man than me.

How do I make sure they show up on time? Feel free to cut and paste this generic email message and send it out a few days before the match: “[Team name here], this [insert day of the week here], [insert calendar date here] we play [insert opponent's name here] at [insert a time that is thirty minutes before scheduled kick-off here] at [insert name of field here]. Please be there by [insert a time that is thirty minutes earlier than the thirty minute earlier time you referenced in the previous sentence] to help with [field set up/tapping the keg].” Sometimes, it is good to build antagonistic rivalry to really get your squad amped for the match, so you can add: “[Insert opponent's name here] were ragging us on the league message board by saying [our defense was slow/our strikers were slow/our wives were dirty whores]“. Finish with, “Call me at [insert your cell phone number here] IF YOU CAN’T MAKE IT!”

So…game day. How do I delicately balance all of the players in just the right positions? You can refer to this post here for making sure you have the correct player archetypes on your squad and this post here for characters to avoid, but generally your team selection goes like this:

Striker – Me
Other Striker, Midfielders, Defenders – Next nine guys to show up
Goalkeeper – The one guy who has gloves
Reserves – Everybody else

Presto! Team sheet is good to go.

Now get out there and lead your team to recreational soccer greatness while winning the Golden Boot, no less! That’s why you signed up for this gig, isn’t it? That and a Jose Cuervo shot from some girl you think is named Heather, right?

What else am I forgetting to facetiously add about the job description of recreational footy manager? It really is a lot of fun, especially when you have a fantastic squad like mine. Here’s hoping your turn as The Gaffer is equally rewarding…

Category: Orange Slices and Aspirin

Tags: Orange Slices and Aspirin

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