New book.

[cavalier Jackson]

www.stevesbook.co.uk

 

[David White]

@cavalier Jackson

Hi Steve, my copy of your book arrived today so that’s been my Saturday evening! I’ve just finished now. It’s a great read, I coach at under 13’s and have experienced many of the same issues and emotions as you describe in your book.

Thanks for sharing it mate, I think it’s brilliant!

 

[cavalier Jackson]

Hi David,
that's great, glad you enjoyed it. Thanks for buying it. I just wish I could get the word out and sell a few more!!!
Good luck with the under 13's
Steve

 

[manchester blue]

Reading that made me glad I coached basketball teams. Subs on and off, and can go back on after coming off, and standing in a nice heated (usually) sports hall and not a freezing cold football pitch!

 

[cavalier Jackson]

Reading that made me glad I coached basketball teams. Subs on and off, and can go back on after coming off, and standing in a nice heated (usually) sports hall and not a freezing cold football pitch!

Yea it can get pretty cold sometimes!! Glad this weekend was called off.

 

[cavalier Jackson]

Another final sample chapter if anyone wants to buy a copy it is available at www.stevesbook.co.uk

9

YOU’LL WIN NOTHING WITH KIDS

I can’t believe it, I’m walking across the quagmire that

is to be the pitch for my youngest son Alfie’s first ever

cup match for his Under 9’s team. It’s windy and cold, the

parents are putting a brave face on it, but it’s one of those

blow your umbrella inside out kind of days. The weather

though, isn’t what concerns me. It’s 10 minutes to kick off

and Butch, the under 9’s manager, is nowhere to be seen.

It’s a bit weird because his son is here, but he’s not. My

phone rings, it’s Butch. ‘Hi mate, sorry but I’m running

really late, youse know what to do, can you sort it, y’know,

pick the team and that?’ ‘Erm OK, how long will you be?’

‘Not long mate, I’ll be there soon, maybe 20 minutes, just

pick the team.’ And then he’s gone.

Shit, I don’t want to do this, it’s not my age group, and I

don’t know the kids all that well. I figure I should get the

boys warmed up, so I call the lads together and ask them

to form a circle, which they do but it is the most unlike

circle shape I’ve ever come across.

You will see this warm up drill done up and down the

country at most junior games, it’s a very basic version

of a practice called a Rondo. It is a great way to get the

lads going because it allows the kids to still chat and joke

amongst themselves before the game starts while at the

same time encouraging them to focus on their passing and

movement. It’s a bit like piggy in the middle. The circle

35

of players has to pass the ball to one another across the

circle without the player in the middle intercepting the

ball. If your pass is intercepted, you then swap places with

the player in the middle. The object of the game is not to

be the one in the middle, but inexplicably all the under

9’s want to be in the middle.

They all start chanting “Can I be in the middle? Please

let me be in the middle!” The circle is breaking; the kids

are moving towards me, I’m surrounded by blood-thirsty

children chanting “Steve” in unison. Arms in the air,

eyes wide, some of them are so close; they’re actually

tugging at my jacket. The circle is now non- existent, I am

surrounded; it wasn’t meant to be like this, I only came

to watch my son play football. The chant goes on Steve,

Steve, Steve. Oh God, I can’t breathe, someone help me. I

look over to the parents in desperation but they appear

to be laughing. Just as I think I’m going to black out, a

hand lands on my shoulder. ‘Alright mate? I’m the referee.’

I turn to face my saviour. ‘Thank God’ I say, and without

thinking, give him a hug.

Imagine being the captain of a sinking ship, and telling

the last remaining passenger that there is no more room

in the lifeboat, and that they’re probably going to drown.

The look on that passengers face? That’s the same look

you get from an 8 year old who you’ve just told is going

to be a substitute. In this case Oliver.

‘Ollie, you are starting as my super sub today, OK?’ ‘Oi,

Ollie, don’t cry mate, honestly you’ll be on very soon.’

‘Where’s Butch?’ he asks tearfully. ‘He’ll be here soon,

but he told me that you were starting as sub’ I lie. Such

are my feelings of guilt at seeing little Oliver’s distraught

36

face, I actually contemplate sneaking him on when the

referee isn’t looking.

Tyce the self-appointed captain and probably more

importantly, Butch’s son, wins the toss and opts to take the

kick in the face of a wind so strong, that the ball refuses

to stay put on the centre spot and keeps rolling away.We

kick off; the ball is played back to the edge of the centre

circle, so far so good. We’ve been playing for 5 seconds

when I get a tug on my sleeve, it’s Oliver, ‘Am I going on

yet?’ ‘Soon Ollie mate, soon.’

This interaction between caretaker manager and the

worlds most over enthusiastic substitute continues

throughout the opening 5 minutes as Oliver matches me,

stride for stride, stalking me up and down the touchline.

By this time we are 2-0 down and I give up on any chance

that I might shake Ollie off. I turn to face him, his pleading

eyes looking up at me beneath his rain splattered specs.

‘OK mate, I’m bringing you on’ His face beams. ‘Listen

Oliver, you are going to play on the right side of midfield.

So that is on this side, where we are stood. But remember

Ollie, you’ve got to hold your position and you must get

back and help the defence.’

I look into his eyes; he seems to have understood what

I’m saying. I literally have to hold him back from running

straight onto the pitch, explaining that we have to wait for

the play to stop. It gives me one last opportunity to relay

my instructions once more. ‘Right midfield mate, just in

front of where we are, up and down yeah?’ ‘Yes’ he beams

whilst performing such obscure body movements, that I

actually look round wondering if someone has tasered

him.

37

The ball goes out on the far side ‘Ref, sub please.’ I look

to Oliver but he’s already moving. He runs onto the pitch,

star jumping whilst simultaneously shouting ‘yes, yes,

yes.’ Finally he comes to a stop, focuses on what we’ve

discussed, and takes up his position, on the left …

My début as under 9’s manager ends in a closely contested

8-0 drubbing, which at one point saw our goalkeeper,

Evan standing in his net, facing the wrong way sulking,

because in his opinion, the last goal didn’t count. He

offers no explanation why this is, he’s just simply decided.

Unfortunately the referee didn’t see it that way and

awarded the perfectly good goal to the opposition.

We also conceded one goal because he’d spotted a worm

in the six yard box and didn’t want to step on it. ‘Save the

ball, not the worm’ I wanted to shout but for all I know, I

may be looking at the next Chris Packham.

By that stage Oliver had wandered upfront, I knew this

because he was talking to the opposition’s keeper who,

incidentally, was wearing the cleanest kit on the pitch.

Two minutes after the final whistle Butch telephones

telling me he’s just pulling into the car park …

 

[cavalier Jackson]

available at www.stevesbook.co.uk

 

[toolah1511]

Sounds like a good read just ordered a copy

 

[cavalier Jackson]

Hi, that's great. Hope you enjoy it. If you do, can you tell other people !!! I've self published it, so I'm struggling to get any publicity

 

[cavalier Jackson]

Hello fellow blues,

I am a junior football manager. A dad that volunteers
This book is the story of a Hyde under 12s manager.
Described as laugh out loud but incedibly touching and honest, it's a must for anyone who is or has ever been involved in kids football, whether watching, coaching or having played.

This is a great Christmas stocking filler

www.stevesbook.co.uk