The CEO of Youth Development: The Secret Is There Is No Secret

Coaching, environment, opportunity.

It's actually that simple. Now by no means is the process of achieving world titles and creating high performers simple, as it takes years and years of getting everything right, and even then, someone can still be better than you. Everything it takes can be easily placed into CEO.

This dawned on me last week while vacationing in the south of Spain. We took a day trip to Morocco and went to Gibraltar too for good measure, and it was on these journeys, while burning my arms and watching my girlfriend be head raped by monkeys, that it suddenly all made sense. This won't for a second help anyone improve their footballing or coaching ability. I am merely seeking to be able to explain the process in simple, yet all-encompassing terms. At the time I was reading The Talent Code, and listening to another book called Legacy, about the New Zealand All Blacks. My mind began racing, and I had to share these thoughts.

These three components are intertwined, have a lot of overlap, and are necessary almost in sequence. Without one, it all falls down. Without the one before, the next one cannot happen. I've already explained how the coaching is largely irrelevant. You just need a decent coach, whereas a terrible coach can completely destroy everything. One that is good enough to teach and to inspire. There are plenty like that without being amazing coaches. For the environment, we need one that is conducive to learning, to playing, and to competition. I talk frequently about sewing seeds. We put the seeds in the ground, but if it is bad soil, they won't grow. If there is no rain, they won't grow. If there is no sun, they won't grow. The seed could be a top notch seed, the Beez Neez of seeds, but without those necessary ingredients, it will not blossom. The gardener would represent the coach, who if they forgot to water the seed and give it attention, could destroy its potential. Likewise, if they do give it water and attention, it probably won't matter anyway as the environment is awful. Then there's the opportunity. I'm not a botanist, so I'm not going to pretend to know what opportunities plants desire and what they aspire to be, but let's say that if a plant doesn't see other plants achieving success and becoming the best plant it can be, it may lose that ambition, that confidence, and decide to do something academic instead.

Then we come to the opportunity. Let's make a male-female comparison. I love those. Girls get worse coaches than men (less money, worse quality, and a pinch of downright sexism). Girls play in a world that tells them they shouldn't be playing. Girls have less teams, and only a small handful of players can make a living out of playing the game. Their coaching is worse, their environment is discouraging, and their opportunities are severely limited. And yet people are still mocking talented female players for not being good enough. It's a miracle they're still going considering all the challenges they've had to overcome.

Now I shall seek to draw on my vast experiences of coaching all over this planet in order to explain the CEO of Youth Development.

Coaching

The quality of a coach can make or break a player from a very young age. At this stage it could be a parent, or a teacher, an older sibling, or even a qualified coach. Football is a sport that requires the player to learn and master a high number of skills. By certain ages, as the body grows and changes, it becomes true that if you haven't done it by now, you never will do. It comes down to muscle memory, neural pathways, and how much myelin one can create to embed and make the skills permanent. A game like chess could be mastered much later in life, providing one already has some level of intelligence. A sport like cycling can be mastered later in life providing the rider already has a high level of stamina and endurance, thus possessing a big engine, as the physical techniques used in cycling are limited and repetitive. Football takes a lot of agility, balance, and coordination, together with strength, timing, awareness, and everything else required to make thousands of decisions, while eliciting thousands of different techniques, in an ever changing environment, that can be hard to predict. It requires a high degree of specialisation, compared to say, javelin, running, or handball. Not that these aren't difficult sports, but due to the lower technical demands, one could feasibly become good at these later in life. It's like in gymnastics. For girls, their window of opportunity is between thirteen and sixteen years old. In order to achieve their ten thousand hours, they would have had to have started very young.

And let's get rid of the "ten thousand hours is a myth" stuff. It never claimed to be scientific in the first place. My impression was that it was a rough ball park figure, that would change dependent upon the sport, the athlete, and several other circumstances. Truth is though, you need to be practising a hell of a lot in order to be brilliant at your game. A better coach or environment may get you there quicker than ten thousand, but does that mean you should stop there? Brazilian football kids achieve their ten thousand hours around thirteen, whereas in England it's not until eighteen. By this point, the English kids have already been playing academy football for a number of years. It's entirely possible, and probably true that most Brazilian thirteen year olds possess as good technical skill as English eighteen year olds. Practice, practice, practice. There has never been a champion that hasn't impressed me with their training schedule. It's never a little here and a little there, it's loads. More than you would think possible. More than you would think sane. They did it more. They worked harder. Sure, that's not the only thing that counts though.

If you're never shown how, how will you know? I find it sad when kids tell me I'm the best coach they've ever had. The flattery dissipates after a second when you realise how disappointing that is. I have many colleagues, past and present, that are far better than me. Many of these times were even when I had done a basic job. Camp for a week, playing simple FA Level 1 games. Is it really that bad? Well, for some of them, it is. When I lived in Canada, it's got to be said, some of the coaching was horrendous. Many of them didn't know coaching, and many of them didn't know football. Even if you could adequately communicate with teenagers, what's the point if you don't even know what you're doing? These kids were going nowhere, and yet very few people could see it. They're being taught the wrong things, they're being taught nothing, they're being taught bad habits. Many thought that asking a high school kid to do seven keep-ups was overly ambitious. When we tried teaching advanced stuff to the kids, all the adults shat bricks. I could have made myself a nice house up in the Rockies. Because these parents and coaches had never seen it before, they didn't know it was possible, and they didn't know that pretty much every other eight year old on the planet could do it. A moment of silence please, for what that does to a young player's ambitions.

The instructions these Canadians received were; hustle, kick it out, and boot it. That sounds more like the primitive commands one would associate with the old sport of Village Football. Even your better kids were still braindead when it came to football. The centre forward would receive the ball on the halfway line, back to goal, with no teammates in advance, and would turn and boot it forward. The parents thought it was great as the ball had gained territory, but that means absolutely nothing if there's no one there to either receive it or pressure it. How could anyone survive in this scenario? Any shred of footballing intelligence was being crushed, and all the skills and techniques that should have been learned by certain stages were not even known about. You don't need great coaches to affect young players positively, you just need to avoid idiots.

The notion is true though. How many young players had a Pep or a Mourinho when they were playing grassroots or at the academy? They would have first had a volunteer coach, maybe a parent, with a basic qualification, that loved the game, interacted well with kids, and knew a bit about football. That's enough. That builds a curiosity. That builds a bond with the ball. Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire. Someone somewhere would have ignited that fire within them. They would have learnt basic skills, probably done laps, line drills, and listened to too many lectures, but that wouldn't have mattered, as the better coaching was still to come. What's really important at the early stages is not actually the training, but the playing. It's in the back gardens, in the parks, on the streets, and in the school playgrounds. Where kids learn for fun, experience trial and error thousands of times, make their own rules, playing for the sheer enjoyment of the game. Here, they are being challenged, and are receiving relevant, competitive practice, without even realising it. The guidance of a coach can help grow and improve. We all need feedback, to stop, to start, and to continue parts of our game. What we don't need is an inhibitor. A negative influence that prevents us from growing.

The Brazilian coaches interviewed in Gold Mines claim to be no better than the coaches from anywhere else. They make the point that the work is done on the streets. Brazilian boys are playing for countless hours every day, in small spaces, with hard balls, against other highly motivated, highly skilled players. Through trial and error, these boys had already learned and developed so much of their game, reaching their ten thousand hours in their early teens. Essentially the coaches just need to pick the best ones, keep them fit, and show them some tactics. I'm good enough to do that... you see? It echoes much of what I have heard on the FA's Youth Module courses. I don't think that these tutors are blowing their own trumpets here, as the ones I've talked to seem genuinely into their football and their coaching. They say that on trips to Spain, the Spanish coaches are telling them that England is producing some of the best coaches in the world. Our coaching education is lightyears in front of many of the top footballing nations. We go into so much depth nowadays about the theory and philosophies of coaching, that our football coaches know more about child development than our teachers. Where it goes wrong is in the environment and the opportunity. (Just to point out here, I mean best coaches in terms of ability to teach, coach, instruct, and develop. What I don't mean is the most knowledgeable. We're still relatively tactically inept.)

That's not for a second to suggest that shouting and screaming touchline prowlers aren't harming the English grassroots game. They are. It's 2016 and they should be ashamed of themselves. These are the people that extinguish the flame of interest, excitement, and personal development within the children. These people are the last stubborn skidmark of an outdated era that needs to be long forgotten.

"But there are coaches out there that have produced great players. Cristiano Ronaldo had a coach. Pele had a coach." Yes, you're right. So why do you think these coaches aren't now world famous, winning trophies at top clubs in Europe? Because they were only decent coaches (good enough to teach basic skills and light fires) and just happened to be one fortunate cog in the wheel. Why do I say fortunate? Because you can't often determine who you will inherit in your team, how good the kids will be when they come to you, and what it is they do in their spare time. Messi will rightfully thank his coaches, and they no doubt played a part, but thousands of other coaches in the same situation would also have produced Messi. Those coaches in Canada, or some of the English grassroots coaches, definitely would not have produced Messi. Messi gets a tick for coaching, as his first coach wasn't horrendous enough to turn him off the sport.

We've all seen the coaches that shout, scream, criticise, humiliate, intimidate, bully etc. and wonder how they are allowed to be around kids. An effective coach needs to be able to support, encourage, and provide feedback. Feedback could very well be in the form of playing, of guided discovery. If kids are given plenty of games, they have more time to master their skills and make decisions, as opposed to line drills, which do nothing but waste time. We all know what a bad pass looks like. We can all recognise mistakes within our performance. It's usually fairly obvious when it goes wrong, because at the foundation stage, it's black and white. That pass went badly because you used the wrong part of your foot. You lost the ball while dribbling because you took too big a touch.

All that's needed is the encouragement to try again, with a few adjustments here and there. This creates the intrinsic love of the game, plus the potential for mastery, which is needed for long term motivation. As the young player begins to age, they do need to have better coaches. The game becomes far more tactical and in depth. Players train to play, they train to compete. They will be judged, selected, and have to face much stiffer competition. No longer are we looking solely at technical development, but now vision and understanding. A Level One coach with the best will in the world cannot do this. The level of football knowledge of the coach at this stage must be significantly higher. I've had many players come to me that are good technically, but tactically inept. Whichever coach they've had didn't understand the formations, the decisions, the structures, the patterns etc. or for whatever reason, they weren't able to teach them. It's frustrating to see wasted talent. As mentioned in the book Legacy, England are world class at wasting talent. This was said about rugby, but it's so true for football.

The Germans completely restructured their youth development system. This placed a highly qualified coach within easy reach of every kid in the country. Mario Gotze, scorer of the winning goal at the 2014 World Cup, would not have been identified or developed if Germany didn't make these changes. They were able to get good coaches out to all players, leaving no one behind.

In England we're starting to catch up. A large problem that we have is that coaching often isn't a profession. For many within football, it's part time. They have another job. That must take priority. Football becomes secondary. In the US, coaching is a profession, and even average coaches can make a good living. That's going to draw more applicants to roles, and keep coaches in the career paths for longer. It's changing now, as even academies lower down the pyramid are looking to employ a few coaches on a full time basis. These coaches will be able to stop looking for other ventures to supplement their wages. We keep the talent in coaching. It can become a career. It can involve less risk. It can involve more reward.

To summarise; just don't have a bad coach when you're very young, and IF the child is developing well and hitting certain targets by certain ages, then they should also be receiving better coaching as they play for better teams in better leagues. The IF sometimes isn't due to the work rate of the child, or the input of the coach. As we'll now find out.

Environment

Do you operate within a supportive environment, or are you told that you will become a lesbian if you keep playing sport? Environments can either encourage or destroy. They can fuel the quest for excellence, or reinforce the comfort zone of mediocrity. You'll be surprised how even at high levels the leadership or the environment can be completely toxic. Players want to feel valued, they want opportunity to play and to grow. Mourinho, Ferguson, Guardiola etc. all masters at making their players feel incredible. That's a very important skill.

The environment is often caused by a particular mission statement. For the All Blacks, it's to leave the jersey in a better place than when you got it. The team comes first. The shirt is not yours, you are only wearing it for now. I've always liked the way some countries like Brazil and Mexico refer to their first teams, or national teams. Selecao, or Seleccion, translating as "Selection." You have been selected to play for this team. You have been selected to play for this country. That has great connotations. Playing for your country is not a God given right, but a privilege and an honour. Think about how that could affect the motivation of the player. Out of millions of people, YOU, have been SELECTED.

For Allardyce at Bolton, it was Us v The World. We are scummy, unfashionable Bolton. No one likes us. No one wants us here in the Premier League. They all hate playing against us. For Mourinho at Real Madrid, it was similar, in that he convinced his players Barcelona and UEFA were secretly running football and cheating Real out of titles. At Barcelona, they are representing a nation. They are Catalonia. They are fighting for independence. Everything they do is shoving two fingers up at the Spanish government. This creates an environment of urgency, and a cause that all the players can buy into. This increases the drive towards excellence.

When working in Mexico, the environment was all wrong. How can a football mad country of 120 million not be producing world class players? They've never even threatened a World Cup. At my club, it was full of rich kids, who were enabled at every turn. There was no discipline. There was no drive for excellence. There was no incentive. It's a difficult one though, as this is not the experience of all Mexicans. The poor kids have plenty of time and space to play football in the streets, and as they are football crazy, there's plenty of passionate and enthusiastic people around to join in. What doesn't help there is that there is a distinct lack of facilities, it's incredibly dangerous, and it's a largely lazy nation where many people are superficial. They value overhead kicks and nutmegs over proper, pragmatic, British football. It's all for show. And with this, they're just not that bothered. Mexicans are a very relaxed group of people. And they're incredibly happy too. What they don't have is a track record of producing high quality talent.

Given enough people, which is provided in a population of 120,000,000, and with that nation being football crazy, then enough of them will make it as professional. Enough of them will be decent. Enough of them will be able to compete on a world stage. But they're not world class. Each of the World Cup winning nations has some absolutely standout players, and even those to have come close. Mexico should be producing far better players than they have done.

Looking at another country I know well, we can see similarities with Kuwait. Kuwait takes it a bit further in that they are even more lazy than in Mexico. At least Mexicans have somewhat of a motive to play football and to compete, whereas in Kuwait, that just doesn't exist. The children are spoilt and rich. There is no work ethic whatsoever. The players, the parents, the coaches, the clubs, have very little inspiration, desire, or motive to play the game. They don't need to, If they're not very good at it, then they either pretend they are, or give up to not look foolish. If they are good at it, they probably won't apply themselves in the way they need to, because the environment is not one of hard work, sacrifice, and determination.

We must make a distinction between the micro and the macro. The environment can be different between clubs within the same country. For example, in Kuwait, we represented one of the biggest clubs in the world. Our culture was determined by them. We had high standards, and held our players, coaches, and parents to those high standards. We stood out as by far the best football experience that a young player could get in the country. We could improve what came to us, but only to a point. We were inhibited by the wider world around us.

In Kuwait, we held players accountable. We gave them ownership, We enforced strict rules in regards to code of conduct, how the boys would train, play, and represent the club. As coaches, we did not cut corners. We researched our sessions and thought deeply about what to teach them, and how to do it, working from a scrutinised curriculum. Other clubs didn't have any of that. It's no wonder we were in such high demand. We had really set a very high bar. Sadly, what use is it if we are the only one? What's the point of being the smartest peanut in the turd? There was no progression, and no opportunity (but we'll come onto that later). We played against other teams, and it was a shambles. No structured league, no organisation, no adherence to rules. We couldn't provide regular, competitive, or even useful fixtures.

Away from football, Kuwait has two large problems that directly affect the development of young players. The first is that there is rampant obesity. So many young players are chubby. Some of them even have saggy bellies, How is that possible as a teenager? Even the ones that aren't fat have terrible fitness. Their body fat percentage is high despite looking relatively thin. There is no shape or structure about their bodies. This directly affects their strength and stamina. They live off of fast food in an indulgent society that will bring frozen yoghurt to your door via moped at one in the morning. That's their dopamine hits right there with that instant satisfaction. Linked to this is the school physical education system. The P.E., where there is any, is atrocious. So they are unfit, and massively lacking in any kind of developed motor skill system. Their agility, balance, and coordination is useless. This greatly inhibits their ability to learn and develop skills when they are older because they have not got a decent base to build upon. There is no foundation for skill development. A lot of the P.E. teachers they have, even in some of the private schools, are not qualified or experienced in sport.

So the kids are taught to be lazy, arrogant, bone idol, dependent upon others, and expectant of the world to magically provide, while not developing any kind of skill set or fitness. That's why our effect on them was greatly limited. We were just a fart in a hurricane. There's no culture of grit, and no demanding of excellence. The environment was not conducive to player development of any kind.

Like with coaching, the difference between a good coach and a great coach, or a good environment and a bad environment, is a fairly small advantage to be gained. Anyone would rather have a great environment than a good environment, but a bad environment is destructive. There's no real coming back from it. The world a child grows up in frames how they view the wider world around them. If they are not pushed or challenged, they will not have the desire to excel. If they are not shown or encouraged to go and practise in the parks, or if there are no facilities for that to happen, then they will miss out on the extra work that needs to be done. For many of our players in Kuwait, the three or or four hours a week they had with us would be their only exercise. Some would play at school, and some would have underutilised home swimming pools, but very little was going on. They did not develop a love for the ball. Without it, success becomes impossible.

Opportunity

This is the last, and easily most important one. How did players in the good old days make it to the top without coaching, and in an environment where football was still carving a niche for itself? It comes down to the opportunity to play and to grow. Opportunity is something that is needed at all levels. When it comes to job fulfilment, we care more about feeling valued, and seeing the benefits of our work, than we do about pay. Once you are paid enough, salary is no longer an issue. For a doctor, the opportunity exists to see the health of their patients improve. For a firefighter, it is to see the family saved. They actually see if their endeavour was a success or not, as they have that tangible evidence right there in front of them. That's what they love. That is the reward from them. They love what they do and love the effect that they have on the world.

There also exists the opportunity for them to be who they want to be, to improve, to be something important, to belong, to feel valued, to make a difference. At a young age, footballers want the opportunity to try things for themselves. They want to learn and try these new exciting skills, and to see the success of their actions. Simple, short, repetitive games provide them with the opportunity to learn, experiment, and succeed. Don't go telling them what to do, as they want autonomy. A bit of help and guidance is welcomed, but don't do it for them.

As young players progress, what they want and need begins to change slightly. They move away from games as a U3 where every player has their own ball and gets to behave like cartoon characters. They want to score goals, compete with and against others. They need the opportunity to experiment. They need the opportunity to experience failure and success. They still need that autonomy, to experience the game as theirs. Sure, we teach them skills and give them advice, but we can't take too much of the decision making and ownership away from them, or they will not have the opportunity to develop. Do they have these opportunities? Are they allowed to play at school? To play for their school team? Do they have the opportunity to play for a club side? If they are doing well, do they get the opportunity to play for a better team?

I often wonder what it must be like in remote villages, or one of the many island communities that surround the UK. I suppose I've seen it in Canada in the small towns to some extent. If you're the best in your group or team, do you have the opportunity to move up an age? To play for a better team? To receive better coaching? To play against better players? Once a year, the best kids in our town in Alberta would get to compete in provincial tournaments over a weekend. Our season lasted two or three months. They didn't have the opportunity to play all year round, as leagues were not set up for that. There was no interest in indoor leagues or futsal. They did not spent those months playing at school. They weren't part of a culture that would go to their park and play some jumpers for goalposts. Thus, their opportunity to play, practise, and develop is not there.

These opportunities can often be taken away by the parents. I've worked at some very expensive clubs. We could give scholarships, but I've seen young players turn them down because they would feel embarrassed. In Mexico, we tried to recruit a few poor kids that were phenomenally good. They came, tried hard, and set the place alight. We bent over backwards to bring them in. What scared them off was the quality of cars (or even having cars), sometimes the accents of the fresas (posh people), the careers of the other parents, the houses the kids lived in, the schools they went to, and even that the coaches were British, and they couldn't speak English. It would be a combination of those things, and a combination of parental influence and not wanting to be excluded or looked down upon by their peers. I had a girl trial for me who was pure class. The others desperately wanted her in the team because they wanted to win. I spoke enough Spanish to be able to communicate with her, and for those that didn't understand, the rest of the team translated. We thought we did our best to make her feel welcome, and to show we were willing to help out. Sadly, we never heard from her again. We don't know what we did wrong, and would have loved to have known. She joined another team that was largely made up of girls from the barrios (working class neighbourhoods), who didn't have the facilities or coaches that we had. She'll probably still make it as a very good player, because of who she was and how good she was at twelve. As long as she keeps playing, only having catastrophically dreadful coaches, and being in a god forsaken environment will prevent her from getting there.

Opportunity means different things to different players at different ages. In the UK, as is in many other countries, girls simply don't have the opportunity to make a living from the game. Up until exams because a big deal, boys and girls could potentially give the same commitment to football. At fourteen, when the GCSEs start, some boys may get it slightly easier, or may have some allowances from their parents, that does not interrupt a strict, demanding, academy environment. These boys have a realistic chance of being able to pay their bills from playing football, and so will be encouraged. Girls don't. They may begin to sacrifice their centre of excellence sessions in favour of revision (or their parents will refuse to take them to a one hour session, believing that one hour will make all the difference). Such a choice has a clear motive; education is more important than football. To make a difficult decision quickly, pretend you have a gun pointed at your head, and you have five seconds to choose, or you get neither. Another one is to flip a coin. Instead of going by what the coin tells you, while that coin is in midair, you will reveal to yourself which of the two options it is that you truly want.

Many people have heard me say this before, but we lose plenty of good female players in England because they choose education over football. They move away to university at eighteen, at a time when they could be pushing to play in some good teams and get plenty of football. Some stay sharp, playing for their university team and their local team, or even get into a very good team while at university. Opportunities are increasing every day, but on the balance of things, I've seen more lost than gained by making these choices.

At the top of the pathway, opportunity manifests itself in the ability to be a professional and to play at a good level. In England, the debate we have is are too many foreigners in the Premier League ruining our game? A more specific and accurate question is; does the short-term, results-based, high pressure environment of the Premier League influence coaches to spend money on foreign talent than risk bringing in a young player that may not be ready? Look at the careers of Allardyce, Pardew, McCarthy, Bruce, Pulis etc. You've got six months to keep this club in the Premier League. You don't bring in a U18 that's had a few good games for the reserves, you bring in a cheap import that is over twenty five, that has been playing in this league, or a league of similar quality, for many years. This type of player can hit the ground running. They can do a job today, The U18 will need years to be at their best. The U18 is more likely to cause mistakes, and the more mistakes in a game, the more likely you are to concede, lose, and be relegated.

In countries like Kuwait and Singapore, where football is the most popular sport, there's just not much opportunity to play professionally. Their national teams are dreadful, and are in no danger of making it to a World Cup any time soon. Kuwait occasionally qualify for the Asian Cup, but rarely even score a goal. If you're born in these places, you probably won't think being a professional is viable. Even if you do, who would you play for? Qadsiya? Kazma? Who are they? The natives don't pay attention to their own league. You wouldn't be making much money playing for them. There's not much of a realistic opportunity, and it's certainly not a glamorous one.

If we head back to Mexico, where a good level, rich, professional league exists, we'll note that in the top levels, the bridge from youth to professional is often obstructed. You have to be a favourite. You have to pay a price. The first thing that comes to mind in Mexican football is corruption. I heard countless stories of players not being picked because they didn't pay the coach. So it looks like there's an opportunity, but just how real is it?

When analysing a team, club, league, or country, try to consider the opportunities available, and how it coincides with what the player might need at that time. Can they play? Can they play a lot? Can they play extra? Can they compete? Can they compete against others? Can they be challenged more? Can they play in an elite environment? Can they earn money from the game? These are very important factors to consider. That added incentive, that opportunity, can be that extra push to help players strive to be better, and to make the necessary sacrifices to make it. If there were no space program, very few of us would grow up wanting to be astronauts. We'd not even know it was possible. Even less of us would have any idea of what going to space was like. We wouldn't think about oxygen, spacesuits, radiation, and gravity. What on Earth are those things?

Summary

Coaching is important, but not as important as the environment, which is not as important as the opportunity. Kids make it in Africa, despite a less than conducive environment, and despite no coaches. It's because they have the opportunity. They can play with their friends, in teams, and even make it professionally. Because they love the ball, they find a way to do it. There may be a scout hanging around, looking for the next Michael Essien or George Weah. In fact, agencies thrive off of it. These kids know, even if it is a one in a million shot, that they have a slim chance of making it to play in Europe.

If you've got the opportunity, then it would also help to have the right environment. Are people supportive and encouraging? Do they value learning? Does it challenge you? Does it inspire and empower you? Does it set high standards and strive towards excellence? Think of it like the culture. So many things can drive, change, and influence it, both on the micro and macro scale. Is it the coach of the team? The club rules or playing philosophy? Is it how the parents raise their kids in a certain part of the world?

Once all that's in place, how about the coaches? Are they decent enough? Poor coaches are ones that turn their players off to the game. They rant and rave. They humiliate. They bore and they frustrate. We all want leaders that show compassion, understanding, value us, empower us, and give us the opportunity to be better versions of ourselves. We'd definitely prefer a more knowledgeable coach if we could get one, but how about their ability to actually teach? Do they get their point across? Do they know what is necessary to make you a better player? Are they helping you get there?

Consider the coaching, the environment, and the opportunity when choosing a club. Despite all the best intentions, you could be battling against all the odds, swimming upstream, or fighting a stacked hand. This leads to banging your head against a brick wall, and wasted potential. Don't do that to yourself. You're better than that.

The best players at producing top players don't do it by magic. There is no secret formula that they are hiding from the world. When going to these gold mines, you'll notice that they are just doing good things. They have the right balance of coaching, environment, and opportunity. There's nothing special, nothing amazing, nothing mind blowing. It's sure to be impressive in some ways. Don't go looking for the quick fix, the easy solution, or the shortcut. They do not exist. With all our scrutiny, research, and criticism, we would have found the shortcuts by now.

The BalotelI Paradox: Is The Answer Really That Difficult?

Regardless of your opinions on the man, the memes were absolute quality.

No it's not. That's the short answer.

Many will try to disagree, and for those of you that want to know why, keep on reading.

There is beauty in pragmacy. There is beauty in things just clicking. All the parts of a train working in harmony, providing that rhythmic chugging sound as the locomotive transports commuters across the country. Or when the sun lines up with the city blocks of Manhattan. We like patterns. We enjoy things that appear to work effortlessly. Like the smoothness of a brand new car. Does it have to be flash? Not at all.

Think of all the amazing teams to have dominated football as the years have gone by. Each one would have had a star or two. For the sake of this example, let's examine Johan Cruyff and Ajax of the 1970s. We know Cruyff without Ajax, but do we know Ajax without Cruyff? To my generation, there appears to be a split between those that know Cruyff as a Barcelona legend, and those that know him as an Ajax legend. The truth is he was incredible at both, but let's have a look into this. Football is a team game. Success by its very nature is a team sport. Why were Ajax so successful and revolutionary in the 1970s? They had a great coach and a great squad. What was a brilliant side, including other legends of football, legends in their own right, of Aarie Haan, Arnold Muhren, and Johan Neeskens (among many others). Many even think that Neeskins was more of a genius than Cruyff. On top of that is the visionary of Rinus Michels. Some of these names are either sadly forgotten, or exist just within the realms of football nerdom.

As a kid trying to learn more about football and fuel this obsession, I thought I'd take a look at the amazing Ajax team, and especially their talisman and hero, Cruyff. All I saw was passing. Pass, pass, pass, goal. That's boring. Where were the tricks? The flicks? The nutmegs? The top corner volleys? The Tony Yeboah strikes? All this passing and moving was enough to put a young boy to sleep. Not until I was much, much older, did I begin to appreciate the beauty of it all. They still executed tricks and flicks, and scored some sublime goals, but their movement was hypnotic. The positioning and formation just cannot be understood by an egocentric child that wants to see screamers. It used to wind me up when Arsenal kept getting so many goals in the Match of the Day Goal of the Month competition. "All he's done is pass it into an empty net from six yards. I could do that!" Is what I would shout at my TV. What I failed to appreciate was the slick move that allowed for them to place a striker unmarked with an open goal. That's collective genius. It was often nothing fancy. Simple. Brilliant. Brilliantly simple.

The same can be seen with the Barcelona team of the modern era. Tiki taka is lauded as boring, and at times it can be. Watching them destroy opponents 6-0 without appearing to break sweat, while making passing moves of a sequence of 152, can put you to sleep. It's not the hustle and bustle of the English leagues. Smash it long and fight for it. That intensity appeals to our primal urges. Us English do not take a cerebral enough approach to the game, and although we are truly fortunate to be able to support five national and professional leagues, I don't think we truly appreciate the game in front of us. I don't think conceptually that we are able to. I've seen players booed for passing the ball backwards. If that's the only option, then do it. Better to retain than to lose needlessly. The same can be said about crossing situations. "Launch it in the box!" can be screamed from the terraces. We just associate the ball being in wide areas as needing a cross. It's wide, so it now needs to be whipped into the middle. Crossing has almost become obsolete. The amount of crosses needed to score one goal has increased over the decades. Allardyce and Pulis know this. Long ball isn't about accuracy, it's about frequency. Think about trying to put your keys into the slot while dark. You miss, so you try again. You miss, so you try again. You keep missing. You then become frustrated and furiously jab your keys at the slot until they go in. If you were bright enough, you would have turned the light on and put it in first go without any worries. As long as your key goes in the slot, you shouldn't care too much about the method. The same can be said for scoring a goal.

The difference between a Stoke goal and a Barcelona goal is the amount of passes necessary. Both teams are doing what they can to stifle the opposition's chance of scoring (either booting it really far away from your goal, or keeping the ball for so long the other team can't score). Stoke will launch it long, win the knock down, score from inside the box. Barcelona will keep the ball for ages, get it into the attacking third, perhaps lose the ball, press high and effectively, win the ball, score from inside the box. Messi, supposedly known for his amazing skills that kids are always trying to emulate, actually does that very rarely. It's a very small part of his game. He dribbles, he turns, he runs with the ball, he feints, he changes direction. He's never looking to embarrass his opponent or to show off, he just does what he can to give his team the best chance of success, Messi and Ronaldinho are two players we associate with sublime skill, where Messi is brilliantly simple, Ronaldinho was always flamboyant and magical. His skills or goals would have us talking about them and reenacting them for months. We'd all be trying to do that. Next time you're in a 1v1, try and go round them like Ronaldinho did, or control the ball out of the air like Ronaldinho did, or play an outside of the boot reverse pass like Ronaldinho did. We can identify that as brilliant, because it is a clear action that we can isolate and replicate. With Messi? What did Messi do? He picked the ball up on the halfway line, feinted past the first defender, dribbled inside, beat two more defenders by dropping the shoulder, played a one-two with Iniesta, and then side-foots it into the corner, past the onrushing keeper. If we were to isolate all of the components that Messi used for his goal, we are left with short passing, basic dribbling skills, and an easy finish. Even the shot, kids would prefer to smash it into the top corner than roll it into the bottom one. And so what do we replicate?

Cristiano Ronaldo is perhaps the most replicable footballer across the globe. Until recently, no one ever talked about what Messi did in private. No tattoos, no stupid hair, no stupid outbursts. That has changed a little now. Ronaldo seems destined to have lived the celebrity lifestyle. He's rich, famous, talented, and wants us to know it. Nothing he ever does appears to be humble or quiet. Kids can copy what he does. They can copy his unique hairstyles, try to do his insane tricks, try to replicate his special free-kick technique (though very few get past that ridiculous stance he does). They do all this, and think it makes them more like Ronaldo, barring just the huge lack of talent. Wearing the same boots as your hero makes you nothing like him. If you want to be like him, put in the same amount of hard work and deep practice that he did as a child.

Because you're an idiot.

One of my favourite observations on Twitter was in regards to Thomas Muller; "If he had tattoos and f****t hair, we'd think he was one of the best in the world." You don't win what Muller has won, and be top goalscorer at two consecutive World Cups if you're not a special talent. He keeps himself to himself, and just goes about his business. There's no scandal. There's no celebrity. He's just a good footballer.

What this whole argument boils down to can be described as Balotelli v Dzeko when they both played for Man City. Balotelli was constantly in the headlines for doing something stupid, be it setting off fireworks in his bathroom, fighting with teammates and coaching staff, or lifting up his shirt to reveal slogans at Old Trafford. Dzeko never did any of that. Balotelli would generate such interest in himself for all the wrong reasons, and then would justify it with one sublime bit of skill, which he would then dine out off of for months after. Dzeko was hard working and pragmatic, and apparently uninspiring. He had a normal haircut, and was not prone to tantrums. When Balotelli was left out of the squad, all Hell would break loose. He'd act like such a petulant little child, and cause so many problems. If Dzeko was left out, he'd come off the bench and score, and reiterate that he's just doing his best for the team.

Here are some sublime goals. Check out not just the quality, but the variety.

If Dzeko went a few games without a goal, the press would be heavily critical. He can't shoot. He's just an immobile big man with a poor touch and no left foot. Despite his impressive scoring records, and his range of goals scored, the criticism kept coming. This love for Balotelli, mostly generated by the press and perpetuated by starstruck football fans, became almost delusional at one point. That one game that one time when Balotelli was amazing against Germany, that proves that the man is a genius. Right? Whereas Dzeko had been the top goalscorer in qualifying for that competition. He'd also previously broken several season scoring records while playing for Wolfsburg in the Bundesliga. For many, that one game that Balotelli played incredibly, was far better than Dzeko's track record of high level consistency.

Apparently Balotelli has the power to get us out of our seats. So Man City fans were sitting down with mild applause when Dzeko scored the equaliser in the 90th minute against QPR on that famous day in 2012? And I suppose Wolfsburg fans were also sitting for the 66 goals that Dzeko scored in 111 appearances for the club, while becoming the club's all time leading goalscorer, a member of the league's most successful strike partnership of all time, and helping deliver Wolfsburg's first ever league title. Imagine the size of those quads and bums if they had actually stood up every time Dzeko delivered.

If that last video wasn't convincing enough, as it was just

one lucky season with Wolfsburg, this video is taken with

three top teams, in three top leagues, over many years.

After a while, it began to become apparent to many. Balotelli was actually a glorified penalty taker. Ill-disciplined, obnoxious, disrespectful, immature, and stupid, things haven't really worked out for him since. No press is bad press, and so the publicity Balotelli had generated for himself allowed for his good moments to be heavily publicised and popularised. They made the highlight reels. We talked about it because Balotelli was involved. I listened to countless talkshows about the man, and yet whenever Dzeko came up, it was only to note his inconsistency. What inconsistency? He scored 50 goals in 130 appearances. There was a fifteen game dry spell in his last season at the Etihad, but who hasn't had bad periods? Balotelli likewise scored 20 goals in 54 games for Man City, so a similar record, but a hell of a lot games less played for what was a similar time frame. Reading his bio however, one notes the amount of red cards, violent conducts, suspensions, and even fines leading to tribunal that Balotelli was at the heart of. Four red cards in one season is far more consistent than one goal (a penalty) in his final season in Manchester.

His personal life is full of incidents, bust-ups, and just stupid decisions. He has more cars than trophies. So many coaches have fallen out with him. So many have stated he has talent, but is just an idiot. He does crazy things without justification, and is trying to be accepted in circles outside of football. To many coaches, this may seem familiar. We've all encountered players like this - the insanely talented but terribly disciplined. But are they actually that good? As with Balotelli v Dzeko, the stats show that Dzeko was by far the better player, with a much more positive contribution to the club, even though your average man on the street will tell you that Balotelli is miles ahead. "Yeah but on his day he's unplayable!" Let's get one thing straight before we move on. The word unplayable is in regards to the pitch. We cannot play on the pitch due to the water, mud, needles etc. An injured player is also unplayable. We do not have the ability to play this player due to their injuries, that are preventing them from entering the field. Unplayable. So yes, Balotelli was often unplayable, usually due to his own ill-discipline, getting himself regularly sent off for violent conduct. His suspensions made him unplayable.

Of course the English language is often molested by those within football. What your average man on the street will mean is that he is so good, it's often impossible to play against him. That, again, is untrue. Flashes of brilliance do not mean that he is just one spark away from consistency. Just look at Theo Walcott. Following that hat-trick against Croatia in 2008, everyone thought that would be it. Suddenly, he wouldn't be 1v1 with the keeper and pass it straight to his hands. Suddenly his crosses were going to beat the first man. Nope. Inconsistency is consistent. He would consistently play terribly. And all this "On his day" rubbish. I once went up front and scored five goals. That was my day. No one could stop me on that day. I did nothing wrong on that day. I was a genius on that day. If you play enough games, you come closer to the possibility that one day it's all going to go right for you. This isn't suddenly something clicking and it all going right from that point onward like some kind of epiphany. This is the planets aligning once every ten thousand years. It's the same concept as winning the lottery. Every time you lose, you are one step closer to the time that you are going to win, but winning the lottery once doesn't mean that you've now cracked the formula and that you're going to be winning every week.

Do you remember this one? Acted like an idiot, substituted,

then threw a tantrum. And who's that big Bosnian No.10

that did the wonderful piece of skill to start the move and

who was then right alongside him for the tap-in?

On his day, on any given day, Balotelli had the potential to act like a complete idiot and get himself into needless, avoidable trouble. On his day, Edin Dzeko was going to perform well, work hard, and commit selfless acts for the benefit of the team.

Last season I coached at a team that had a volatile young boy. He possessed some ability, no doubt, but it very rarely came out. He was an apathetic teenager that was having problems at home. Imagine if every white kid from the suburbs that experienced their parents going through a divorce suddenly became a self-centred little prick, and causing problems at every opportunity. Life as we know it would cease to exist, as chaos would descend upon the world.

Rule 1. Don't bring your problems to training. It's no one else's fault, it's no one else's problem. Don't bring it here and let if affect the team. You leave your problems at home.

For the one or two hours that kids spend playing football with their friends, it should be a happy time. A carefree time. Get the calendar our and you can count just how many more hours the teenagers will have of playing football with their friends in this carefree environment, before having to get a job and start paying their own way in life. It's all so hard.

Rule 2. I am not your therapist. If you're going to act like a idiot, you can go home. I do not care about you or your problems. Be up front and tell me you're struggling, and I can help you deal with it, but I am not a fully trained mental health professional. If you're going to be disruptive, you're going to go sit in the box.

The manager of this team kept telling me that the boy has ADHD and needs some support. As tragic as it is to suffer this largely overprescribed, somewhat invented illness, there are a few things that are not characterised as ADHD. ADHD is not being able to sit still, struggling with attention, and fidgeting. It's not swearing, fighting, and tantrums.

Rule 3. If you break the rules, you are gone. Everyone is treated the same. If you decide to act like a little kid, you will be treated like one. I would do the same to everyone else if they were consistently behaving this way. You've had your opportunities to change, and you've had your final warning.

The manager, eventually, kicked this kid off the team. Unfortunately it wasn't until my final two sessions that I got to coach without him, although he did have frequent absences due to wah wah wah. I would have gotten rid of him nine months prior. There are many red flags. His lack of effort and lack of respect were two obvious flags that smacked me right in the face. He didn't want to do anything. And one session he told me to fuck off. Another training session he took his shirt off and stormed home. Another one he stormed off home because no one was passing to him (he was stood in the corner, complaining like a little kid about how no one was passing to him, so definitely wasn't available for a pass, and due to his idiotic nature, the other kids didn't like him, and so would play on it). The manager had many last chance chats with him, and I swear kicked him off the team about three or four times before he actually kicked him off the team. While this is happening, the other boys are losing respect for all concerned and are becoming disillusioned.

Rule 4. If you make rules, stick to them. This goes for everyone.

My authority is completely undermined if the team is told that they need to work hard in training, this boy acts like a clown, and is then picked for the game at the weekend. If I remove him from the session, or put him into the 'Idiot Box' as we called it, the manager would come along, talk to him, sometimes force a half-meant apology, or even worse, just tell him to go join in again. That's like asking the other parent to get a yes after the first one gave a no. The boy knew that the manager wasn't going to be firm with him, and that the manager's decision was above mine. This kind of idiocy turned other boys away. They didn't want to be on this kid's team. Was he actually that good? As far as I could tell, he was Balotelli. He had the stupid hair, volatile nature, and unrelenting confidence in his own ability that often wasn't justified. Due to other coaching commitments, I could rarely go to their games. Probably about three times in the season did I hear that the kid was sublime. I did hear of a red card for kicking out at a player, and also another shirt off storm off situation. Following the red card, the manager bent over backwards to reschedule league games so that the suspension wouldn't land on the important match. I didn't get it. The manager was an enabler. The message being sent to the boy was you can act like a clown all you want, and I will wave my magic wand and make everything okay. If that boy didn't like training, there was an inquisition. My trust was shattered when that happened. You're believing this spoilt tantrum throwing idiot, who regularly half efforts it, starts fights, and is rude and obnoxious, over me? There was also a possibility of there being a conflict of interests regarding the boy's mum and the manager.

Only a child would argue over who takes the free-kick.

So what was going on? If we ignore the conflict of interests for a moment, as we had no clear evidence of that, let's just examine what was happening. Clearly the manager placed some value in the boy's ability. He definitely was not the best player on that team. Only the boy and the manager thought that. There were probably three or four players in the team that had better technical skills than this kid, and all of them worked harder and brought a better attitude than him. You may think you're good, but you're pretty useless if you're not playing (either due to pointless red cards or storming off the pitch). My opinion is that he was so obsessed with winning that he believed he could paper over the cracks, hoping that everything would be okay, and that they'd keep winning games, and then win the league. The ship was sinking. There was an idiot sized hole in the hull, and the other boys could not remove the water from the deck quick enough. It's almost like the manager put his fingers in his ears, closed his eyes, and began shouting "LA LA LA LA LA I'M NOT LISTENING" while everyone else tried to operate at full capacity. It just can't happen.

It was that obsession with winning. Why did the manager want to win so badly? It blinded him to the reality of the situation. You need to let go of players like that and move on. I think due to some circumstances in his personal life, the manager needed a self-esteem boost, and to feel important and wanted. He associated winning games of U15 grassroots football with being important, when in reality, he was such a top bloke, that all the parents and kids loved him for repeatedly giving up his time, for no reward, without having any kids of his own in the team. Those selfless acts are what make him such a brilliant person.

It's hard to make tough decisions. Breakups and funerals are two things you never want to become good at. Only with experience can we begin to have those tough conversations rather than shying away from it or hoping it magically disappears. Maybe he didn't want to endure the storm that would follow. Maybe, in his own twisted mind, he'd believed that this boy was truly important to the cause of winning the league, due to a couple good goals he scored once. This boy had none of the characteristics of a champion, yet the manager was prepared to defend all of his inexcusable actions 'til death.

There's an argument to doing extra to keep your best player happy, which I can see, though it's not something I necessarily agree with. We are all equal, and rules are rules. If you're going to act like a clown, you're not going to be in my team. I used to hate going to training with this team, because if that boy didn't want to work, he wouldn't, which would compromise the intensity of the session, which would make the others bored, and then we'd just be wasting our time for two hours. I couldn't punish him as I'd be undermined, and I couldn't reach him through positive reinforcement (encouragement and praise of the good things he did) because 1. he never did anything good, and 2. he had no respect for authority. If I were to tell him he'd done well at something, he'd stop doing it to spite me, because he was that much of a idiot.

These problem kids are not our responsibility to deal with or to change. If at the age of fifteen he is acting like this, in two hours a week contact time, no amount of strict punishment or constant praise is going to change him. The damage has already been done. It's too deep rooted to change, and unfortunately the young lad is going to be haunted by problems for the rest of his life. All because it was someone else's fault. Someone else had to deal with it. Someone else was to blame.

Should I be giving this kid the extra time and attention? Of course not. The other kids are there, wanting to learn and to improve, and are having their time wasted by a kid like that. They don't want to see constant battles between the player and the coach. They don't want to have to stand there and listen while you remind the idiot of a few things. They want to play. They are paying their money, and deserve to be coached well. That can't happen with such a disruptive influence in there. It's not the fault of the other kids, nor is it my fault. This kid could be sparked off by it being cold. I swear, one night he was having a tantrum because it was cold. We all know the best thing to do when it's cold is to stand there complaining about the cold. Bringing a jacket or moving about apparently wouldn't have helped the situation.

Is it worth keeping hold of an idiot if they are capable of producing the goods? It does depend to what extend their behaviour goes, and how often they produce the goods. To be as good as Messi or Ronaldo, you probably won't be acting like an idiot anyway, as it cuts into the practice time necessary to be an outstanding footballer. The paradox is, only if you're that good will you be able to justify acting like an idiot. And you know what? Those two don't! (apart from Ronaldo's crybaby faces, and the removal of his shirt before the ball hits the back of the net). They work hard, they listen, they get stuck in, they track back, they defend. And in the case of the primadona, if he was actually good enough to justify his behaviour, he'd be being an idiot at a better team in a better league. So in reality, the answer to that question is NO, as it is so incredibly unlikely.

The culture of a team is so important, and that comes from the coaches and the most vocal players. What you allow to go unpunished is louder and has more resonance than the things you praise and the things you say. You can talk about harmony and togetherness all you want, but if you see players whining and don't clamp down on it, your word means nothing, and whining has just become acceptable within your team. Players, as they are ordinary people, will always find ways to cut corners. If you let your star player slack off, the rest of the team will slack off. If you then punish one but not the other, you lose your credibility as coach.

If you allow someone to keep operating as a Balotelli, it just comes down to lack of management. Either you don't know how to deal with the situation, or you are too scared to deal with the situation. As counter-intuitive as it might be, it's usually your best option. Man City had invested heavily in in Mario Balotelli, and so could perhaps be more patient than others, giving him the time, care, and attention needed. That could all happen behind the scenes, as football is his career, and he is being paid millions. The club would have that leverage. At other levels, they don't have that resources. A lot of clubs operate with just a couple people in charge, and so cannot afford the time to help the player in that way. I can't do it. If I'm seeing a kid just once or twice a week, there's nothing I can do to have a deep-rooted effect on their behaviour, I'm not a therapist, it's not my responsibility, it's not my problem, and the other kids (paying members) don't deserve to have their precious time wasted. It may sound like we are turning our backs on them, but it's true. We are. If you're going to be an idiot all the time, what do I actually owe you? What is your leverage? Why should I even care?

Even at professional clubs with all the resources in the world, these players can be like a cancer. Get rid of them. Remove them as soon as you notice. Don't try and reason with them. If they were capable of being reasoned with, someone would have done it to them by now. Probably three or four coaches ago at one of their many former clubs. While you're trying to calm them down and get them to stop being needlessly sent off, other players are being turned off the club, are losing respect for you, and the tension begins to rise. You can't please everybody, so don't try.

It's one of the worst things in the world to see wasted potential. In any walk of life. I've argued with players and wasted countless fruitless hours on lost causes. I am older and wiser now. I had a girl last year who was a very talented player, but she used to mess about, never turned up, and tried starting fights. The club had high hopes for her, hoping she'd mature and become an asset to us. That never happened, and she was gone. Last I heard she was still looking for a club. Keep leaving or being kicked out of places, and soon your reputation as a bad egg will grow, and no one will take you on.

One must adopt a simple philosophy; tell your team to not act like idiots (with the utmost clarity as to what constitutes as idiocy) and then remove them if they are idiots. No exceptions. Be fair and genuine, of course, but stick to your guns. These people often don't see a problem with their actions, and you certainly won't be getting through to them. Managing is like fighting hundreds and thousands of tiny little battles. You have to work out which battles are important (prioritising), at what expense each battle will come (time and effort), and what the benefits are of winning each battle (risk and reward). Then choose wisely.

If we try to apply the Balotelli Paradox to other areas of life, we can see that it actually makes no sense to us. It's just that with football, we cling onto the hope of it not being true because we want to win. If someone you cared about had an abusive partner, you'd tell them to leave. If you had a useless colleague, you'd want them fired. It's the equivalent of "Mate, your new girlfriend's such a cow!" "Yeah mate, but she's gorgeous." Or try "Your husband is a racist old man, that makes repulsive comments about his daughter, and will probably destroy the country" "Yeah, but he's rich." It doesn't sit well with us, does it. Get rid of them.

The Unimportant Importance of Winning: Why We Maybe Sort Of Kind Of Can Care a Little Bit

Is winning important?

Yes... no... maybe... I don't know... can you repeat the question?

Is winning important?

It really depends.

Is winning important?

I suppose it is.

Is winning important?

Yes.

Let's face it, yes it is. Kids are confused, parents are confused, and I'm confused, so let's attack the issue and try to provide some clarity.

When we play football, not yoga, there is a clear winner and loser  (yes I know there is such a thing as a draw, but we don't accept that in the cup). In yoga, there is not. Activities (not sports) like that, often seem unappealing simply for that reason. How do I win? There's no winners? So what's the point?

Kids are forever being told that winning is not important, but then scores are kept. If you truly want your kids to be unaware of winners and losers, don't teach them how to count. "Great win today" versus "the result is unimportant." It's a contradiction, but are the two mutually exclusive?

Let us try to define some parameters.

Would you rather win or lose? Win.

Is it a matter of life and death? No (though football did start a war once) unless your last name is Escobar.

Is it the FA Cup final? Probably not. Why this phrase has entered the lexicon of football, I'm not entirely sure. Once when I was winning a game of football, and about to win the league, we were demolishing our opponent. Crushed them 14-2 in a twenty-four minute game of five-a-side. Yes, that's one goal less than every two minutes. We were on form. It was the culmination of four months worth of hard work. We joined a league because we wanted to win. Surely every other team in the league was aware of the terms and conditions associated with joining a league. This was a complete performance by us, aided by the fact our former goalkeeper, and current nemesis, was their goalie. We gave it absolutely everything, and destroyed our opponents. One player, obviously unimpressed with our desire and commitment, remarked during the game "It's not the FA Cup final!". Of course, he was right. We were playing in a warehouse in Hampshire, with very few people outside of that shed even aware that football takes place there. To us, it became one of very few moments of glory in our petty footballing careers. It was the best any of us glorious amateurs were ever going to do, and ner ner, we're better than you.

That man sought to devalue our accomplishment, but why? We weren't being mean to him (apart from raping his team), and meant him no ill-will. He was so insignificant to us that I do not remember his name, nor his face, and played against him a few times after that without ever being aware of which one he was. But us silly humans always remember how someone made them feel. It stuck in my mind as odd, and still does. As captain, I was encouraging my team. It's probably wise to mention at this point that for every four goals, up until twelve, you obtain an extra point. A 12-0 win is six points for example. We had to score twelve or more to guarantee the league as second place were a point behind us, and were playing the very next game. So every time anything happened in the match, I was giving my boys some encouragement. Well done, keep going, great work, two more goals etc. This charming chap, a middle-aged man, decided to mimic me as we got closer to our target. I think I was about twenty-one at the time, and dashingly good looking. This only spurred me on to work harder, and encourage louder. The referee called us in, and threatened us both with yellow cards if we continued. I was astounded, as I had genuinely done nothing wrong. I was not retaliating, being sarcastic, winding him up, or being facetious in any way, shape, or form. The referee had asked me to stop encouraging my team as it was winding up my opponent. Illogical.

That little trip down memory lane does serve a purpose. While the man was pointing out how unimportant it was for us to win a five-a-side league in a warehouse, he was clearly more upset about losing than we were excited about winning. Why would that be? Humans are loss averse. The work of one of my favourite authors, Dan Ariely, shows this quite clearly. We do what we can to avoid pain, humiliation, and suffering. It's a survival technique brought on through millions of years of evolution. If something scares us, or poses a threat, we run away. It's a wise thing to do. Now that we are social beings working less off of primal instincts, this loss aversion takes shape in other areas. He had to pretend like losing meant nothing to him, and in putting so much effort into masking this pain, contradicted his own front of acting like he didn't care.

We invest so much time and money into being winners in our everyday lives. It's astounding. It's no surprise to see shirt sales rise of the team that won the Premier League, Champions League, or World Cup the season before. We want to be associated with winners. People will think I'm cool because I wear the shirt of a winner. In reality, all you've done is contribute £50 to the team as a reaction to them winning. The song "Where were you when you were shit?" can often be heard being sung by away fans at Stamford Bridge and The Etihad. Working hard isn't important to us, absolutely not, but being associated with a winner is. It's easier to buy a Barcelona, Germany, Real Madrid, Manchester United etc. shirt and experience success by proxy than it is to actually go out there yourself and achieve something worthwhile.

Pretty much every interaction we have these days is about finding out who has the upper hand, and determining who is superior. That's how shallow we've become. I've got a more expensive car, suit, or pair of sunglasses, therefore I am superior, and thus... suck it. People even wear sunglasses indoors, often on their heads or hanging from their top button, on cloudy days, just to give off the impression that they are winning. Look how cool I am with my designer sunglasses, which just so happen to be hanging from my expensive designer shirt. It may be cloudy, but winners like me are used to the sun shining down on us. That's why I always keep these handy. It's so thoroughly pretentious, and yet very few people pick up on it. I can often be found being told to calm down or let it go when I point out that some showoff is wearing sunglasses indoors on a cloudy day, and that they are an attention seeking idiot, and that they need to know that they are a idiot, and that the wider population should learn that they are an idiot.

Even when we have discussions about ideologies, theories, and certain rationales, we are politely waiting for others to finish having their say so that we can take centre stage again. It's like buying credit for listening time, by listening to them in exchange. "Now that you're done waffling, let me continue to further demonstrate my superior intellect." Winning. I am winning the conversation. I have scored points by coming across as knowledgeable. Bow down to me. It's important to me that you know how important I am. Ever seen someone from school or college years after leaving? It's just a penis measuring contest. Are you married? In a relationship? Essentially, who is having the most sex, and how great does she look naked?  I invariably win that one, which is demonstrated by the line "Ah mate... foreign birds!" which comes with a nod of approval. It seems to trump a lot of people. They try to claw back a little credibility by bringing up the topic of either visas or long distance relationships, or will say "looks like you're stuck with her now." Because of course fornicating with "fit foreign birds" is all well and good, until one of them latches onto you, and tries to get you to settle down.

The next thing is career or education. How cool is your job is only slightly more important than how much you get paid, or what perks you have. If both jobs are boring, pay is what clinches it. If one job is way cooler than the other, the loser often tries to justify their position by providing some tangible example of how much they are raking in. "I travel the world coaching football, but it's hard to save, as I earn peanuts." "That's cool mate, I just put a deposit down on a house/expensive car/expensive holiday" which translates as "Your job may be fun, but in five years I'll be earning even more money than I do now, which is X times the amount you will be." If the talk turns to education, it's measured first by level of qualification, then by grade, then by institution, which can include location, and as a sub-category, includes birds and shagging. If they didn't go on to further education, which is absolutely fine, they like to downplay the importance of education. "You don't need a degree." Nope, you don't. People love wasting three years to further their knowledge by 0%, increase their job prospects and potential promotions by 0%, and to explore 0% of new locations, learn 0% about being independent, and making 0% of new friends. I've said it before, but I never try to convince the uneducated that they should have got a degree, whereas many of them try to convince me mine is worthless. My mate who got a PhD, didn't need to do that. Waste of time, mate. Could have got a job at sixteen. Look how much I'm earning. Got a new car. As if not having a degree somehow makes your living more honest.

So then we put our penises away, check our watches (which is the phallus we wear around our wrist), and see who can be the first to offer to buy the other a drink (I always lose that one).

It is all about penis measuring though. In every walk of life, in every realm of sport, art, business, science, it's about the size of your penis. If we're online, it becomes the ePeen. My Facebook profile shows my ePeen is bigger than yours. People spend absolutely ages trying to get the right selfie. We've become so disingenuous these days that it is actually sad. The smiles in selfies are so fake, and it is easy to tell by looking at the corners of the eyes and the corners of the mouths. People have a very different smile when they are genuinely happy. A smile is a reaction, which cannot be faked. Just look at the way girls pout, turn their heads, hide their bellies, include more cleavage, and take about fifteen photos until they are happy there's one good enough for them to PhotoShop successfully. I can't be bothered with it. Too much effort. Who are they trying to press anyway? Certainly not anyone they know, who knows they don't actually look like that. I know this obese girl. Literally obese. She's short too, which gives her an almost spherical appearance. Anyway, she doesn't look fat in all her photos. They're either from the shoulders up, or when we see full body, she manages to wear black, stand in the shadow, and hide it behind three or four people. She takes plenty of selfies, heavily made up, and heavily shooped, to the point where she looks like a stunner. It's the complete opposite of the real her. We all know that. Is she trying to create a world where she's actually gorgeous? I've known her for ten years. In that time, she could have actually become gorgeous. No more gallons of makeup, no more fat girl angle shots, no more shoops, no more lies, no more having to hide, and no more risk of diabetes or death from coronary heard disease. But we're all about short term gains. Covering the cracks with tape, as opposed to knocking it down and starting again.

Winning sells. It is a metaphor for sex. We are so obsessed with it in our adult lives, but can't always get it, so invent other ways. Pretty much everything becomes a substitute for it. Check out Maslow's hierarchy of needs. Once the needs for food and sex are taken care of, we can work down the list of priorities, and occupy ourselves with other things. In those moments after sex, no one has any worries about anything at all. Not even "Did the neighbours hear us?" or "Will my girlfriend find out?" That urge to do it completely trumps everything else in our lives. It has to, or else our species would not be here today. The regret doesn't set in until much later, when we are thinking clearly again. That's when doubt, worry, and rationality come flooding back into the brain. So if we're not winning at sex (by having sex) we have to win at other man-made constructs. It's all a substitute, and all comes down to penis measuring. And people can't win in silence either. They have to let us know about it via Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. If you're that desperate to tell me about your gym routine, then you haven't been working out for your own sake. If you're on the beach, showing the world your hotdog legs, and remarking about how this is the life or you could get used to this, it's because you want us to think of you and associate you with that kind of lifestyle, even though we all know it's temporary (like hiring a limo for prom, and that being the one and only time you ever go in a limo, but making sure to take a thousand photographs before you're done). If you have to take a picture of an alcoholic beverage in the sun, then sadly your ability to relax, your self-efficacy, how you wish others to perceive you, and your altruistic ability to be able to enjoy yourself, are sadly dangerously linked with alcohol. That's a shame.

Then the following week, we're back to work, and we get the recap with "this time last week" posts and photos. Wow. That's amazing. Seven days ago you were somewhere else, doing something different to what you were today. Cool. Imagine if I took a picture of the toilet in my hotel, and then a week later put on Facebook "A week ago I was defecating into this #memories #summer2016 #BestDumpEver # TeamPorcelain" you'd be shaking your heads at the pure absurdity of it all, and genuinely considering defriending me. Sometimes on holiday, my Dad will make such posts to prove a point. My Mum tells him it's boring. He tells her that's the point. So we're not just saying "look at me winning", we're also saying "remember that time I won?"

Clearly then, we do value winning. Where does it come from? At an early age, I remember kids picking on other kids at school, including me, for the football team they supported, and getting into real heated arguments when one kid's team beat the team of another kid. It's hilarious really, that any of us would be that upset by it. Why would you cry? Why would you fight? Why would you even think that makes you somehow superior? For the very young, around five, it's often not a choice which team you support. You don't decide that today is the day you're going to decide to like football, and then go to an estate agent to pick the best team for you. Or even go to the shop and examine the shirts. Chances are, it was chosen for you. It was predetermined at birth. Predetermined at birth that you were going to be a person that supports Manchester United. It's a strange concept. The thing that defines you, yet you had no control over has lost to the thing that defines me, that I had no control over. You can apply that to all spectator sports. You can also apply that to just about any war. War always seems stupid and illogical from the outside, but often the only way from the inside. People are that behind what they believe, they are willing to fight for it. Weird.

Kids are looking to establish a sense of self-worth, which, due to the popularity of football, can be closely linked to their favourite team. Crying about it, like we all did, is just petty and stupid. I'm sure kids picked on me for supporting Blackburn, even though we were a decent team when I was growing up. It was akin to bullying when they were relegated when I was ten. In what way did it make anyone else superior to me, and what made them feel the need to tell me it did? We all had one shared pain though, which was Euro 1996. The next day at school was like a funeral. That's very different. That was crushed hope. That was joy being destroyed in the most dramatic of fashions. That night was the soap opera of football.

Around then, when wrestling was popular, we all become hugely devoted fans. We all had a favourite. Being the outcast, I liked the guy no one else had as their favourite. While they all went for The Rock, Stone Cold, or The Undertaker, I went for Kane. Not everyone was a fan, but they had to be to fit in, so would join in, in anyway they can, as to not be ostracised. In other words, kids learnt very young to pretend to like something so that others would like them. As kids, we didn't believe it was fake. Slowly we grew up and grew off it. Still maintain that it was great entertainment, when we learnt it was predetermined, it lost any authenticity, and suddenly you couldn't support a wrestler like you could a football team. Why adults cling to it and wish to be like John Cena, I'll never fully appreciate. We know it's fake, and we know John Cena wins due to popularity and interesting story arks, rather than any ability or cunning of his own design. Again, people, no matter how thick, no matter how obvious something may be, they still like to cling to winners.

So is winning important?

No. It's all a load of rubbish.

When playing youth football, kids are told to play to win, but that winning is not important. "It's not the winning that counts, it's the taking part." Imagine if that was said about World War 2. It sends mixed messages to newly developing humans at what is a very important time for them in their assimilation of the world. I've talked to many coaches that seem to contradict themselves even in the same breath about this concept, though I would give them the benefit of the doubt and suggest that they do not know how to properly articulate themselves. The clearest I can make it based on current knowledge is that winning is important, but not at the expense of development, and not with the mantra of win at all costs. Is that a little clearer? Of course we want to win, but more importantly, we must develop good players, and not win by fouling or diving.

How can you understand where I'm coming from if I don't articulate it clearly enough? If you can't explain it to someone else, you don't understand it well enough yourself. Perhaps the message is being lost. Essentially, we're all going to place different emphasis upon winning, largely determined by our own values and beliefs. The will to win can either be intrinsic or extrinsic, put simply; do you win for you or do you win for things? Do you win for you or do you win for others?

As a coach, it is my belief that if players arrive at me with no intrinsic motivation to do well, without that innate will to win, it's too late, and no amount of barking or screaming will change that. I don't have the time or the energy to convert you into an intrinsically motivated athlete. One that will work hard despite the score, one that will still be grinding when it is raining, when training is boring, who can be seen doing the dirty work, and putting in the extra effort around the pitch and the training site. It stems from values. We're willing to go the extra mile if we believe in the cause. How important to you is football? Really important? Then why don't you turn up on time, listen to your coach, and work hard? Surely if it was important, everyone would do those things.

Football means so much to so many people. I will try to watch anything I can. If I'm not enjoying it, I am learning from it. I am obsessed. I collect scarves, I try to visit stadiums, I try to see as many different teams and players as I can, regardless of the level. When my schedule is full, I still find time for football. It's amazing, right? We make time for what is important to us. I can go alone, or with others. I can watch Champions League or Conference. There's something to be enjoyed and something to be learned at all these games. As a sentimentalist, I have a collection of over sixty different football shirts from all around the world, as well as my extensive scarf and pennant collection. In recent years that extended to other sports, as I try to learn more about athletes, their psychology, coping strategies, motor skill development, everything socially that attributed to them becoming who they are. I want to know stuff. It's all going to help me somehow. Is this a pursuit for knowledge and maybe football is just my vessel? It could be. There are many football snobs, who proudly proclaim that they only watch Champions League or Premier League, like some wine connoisseur, attempting to batter us with their large ePeen. But why? Football's football to me. I know the Premier League is better than the Conference. It's obvious. But I'm still going to go.

I have also stopped cheering or crying when my team wins or loses. I realised many years ago that Blackburn were pure garbage and so winning was going to be rare. But in all seriousness, I do love the club, and I do have this affinity that will never die, but I actually do not contribute to their success or failure in any way. Not at all. So why I should feel personally responsible for any win or loss they experience is beyond me. As I've moved up the coaching ladder, I've become a little more detached. It's a very realistic possibility that my own pursuits could be matched against the pursuits of Rovers, either via ladies, academy, or even men's first team. I don't think I'm mentally prepared for such a clash of interests, but I am now fighting for a slice of the same pie as Blackburn Rovers. And so that separation is there. It hardly affects me. That could be down to being an emotionally lacking robot. When they lose, I roll my eyes, when they win, I have a brief smile, but it's hard to feel anything more than that, as I did not contribute. Especially as I live so far away, and have gone extended periods of time without seeing them. It could be the separation from the community. What I do feel genuinely strong about is the way the owners have run this club over the last five years. It is a sham, and no one else seems to care, as we're not a fashionable club. Manchester United lose a game and the media goes into meltdown, whereas Rovers are raped and pillaged from the inside, and the fans are demonised for expressing their concerns.

What does get me going a little bit, but not greatly, is the performance of my own team. Note how I said performance? Yes, I do like to win, and I do like to see my team climb up the table, but I bring a task-oriented approach. Results and performance are not exactly linked, though there is a strong correlation. Play well and you are likely to win the game. Not definitely. I know that if we play well often enough, we'll win often enough. As I have explained in other articles, winning sometimes isn't down to you, but performance is. We should do all that we can to enable ourselves the best chance of winning that game. Our own performance should be top priority, as that is how we swing the odds of winning a game in our favour. It doesn't always happen. We don't always win when we play well. I don't believe we should be upset in those moments, but it is hard for us to focus on the performance, when that is subjective, compared to the completely objective scoreline.

As an example, I recently had a group of players get together, and we started to play futsal. We stormed the league, winning it undefeated. We slaughtered some teams, played incredibly well, and were top for the entire duration of the season. We were brilliant. We loved playing well, being with friends, and overcoming the odds to win at a sport most of the players had never tried before.Then, on the final night of the season, with just one game to go, it was ourselves versus second. A draw was good enough for us to be crowned champions. It was tense. Our opponents brought in ringers, including a Northern Ireland international. They were desperate to win, and went to great lengths. Two of our regulars were away on holiday. Another was injured. We were not in our best state. We feared they may catch us off guard, which would be a travesty considering the earlier desk scandal (our previous encounter, when we could have wrapped up the title a few games earlier, and had our strongest ever squad, was cancelled, because the school had been having exams, didn't cancel our booking, and couldn't be bothered to move the desks. Absolute blue balls). It was cagey, as both teams looked to exert dominance. One goal was going to make the difference. We backed our ability to be able to defend better than they can attack, and that their defence are useless. Defenders win games you see. They hit the post. We hit the underside of the bar. Both keepers had an outstanding reaction save or two in them, but the chances were limited at both ends. 0-0 was suiting us just fine. Then with five minutes to go, it all changed. Compact, and defending well, their forward, with four defenders between her and the goal, cut inside from the left, onto her stronger right foot, and fired a shot into our net. It was a triple nutmeg. What are the odds of that? The tracking defender tried to block the shot, the doubling defender tried to block the shot, and the keeper tried to block the shot. It went right through all of them.

Timeout called. Three minutes remaining. What did we reiterate? We have to win this? We've come so far? It would be sadder than Bambi to lose this game and this championship? No, no, and no. We know what's at stake, so why add extra pressure with constant reminders? We know we want to win, and know we are losing, so shhhh. Let's make it task-orientated. Let's focus on the performance, not the result. What is within our control? How we play. I reminded them to not worry about the score, the minutes, the trophy, or anything else. We still had time left, which meant we still had a chance. Focus on the things that you can do right. Your next pass, your next tackle, your next shot. Take it one step at a time. Do all those things right, and a chance could present itself. Absolutely no need to panic. It felt like any kind of Hollywood sports movie, just without the rousing speech at the last timeout. My players were reminded to keep their heads and keep working. The instructions were clear. We knew our game plan. We had confidence. It just takes one thing for it to go right, and we are champions. We restarted the game. The opponents sat deep. We approached the final two minutes. The ball was laid off to our keeper. She advanced up the court, looking for a pass, as the other four crossed the halfway line, looking to provide options in advance of the ball. What was she going to do? Keepers only have four seconds of possession in their own half. This is how quick it happened, but how slow it felt. A defender decided to approach our goalie. If she nicks it, it's an empty net, 2-0, and game over. Our keeper sought to engage, taking a couple touches closer to the defender. One of those touches was a bit heavy. Oh no. She's going to lose it. She's going to be dispossessed. She should have passed sooner. The others should have moved into better positions. There's no way anyone is going to recover to block the shot at the open goal. There's no way we can score two goals in two minutes. All these thoughts went through our heads in the blink of an eye. Then, hope appeared. Despite the big touch, the defender misread the situation, and had her weight on the backfoot, and this was unable to extend far enough to poke the ball away. Our keeper took one touch away, with the outside of her right foot. Her laser targeting system scanned for an opportunity to shoot. A direct shooting opportunity opened up to the top right corner of the net. Missile lock was established. She pulled the trigger. Bang. That ball flew through the air like a rocket. I could hear the angels sing as the ball travelled through time and space direct to the back of the net. The opposition were silenced. The opposition keeper was stunned. She could not react in time to that. We erupted. That was one of the single most pure moments of joy I have ever experienced in sport.

But we had a job to do. There were two minutes still to play. Our opponents removed their keeper and played empty net, going 5v4 on the court. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We defended like champions. It was clear that they were not going to recover from that psychological blow, and that we had the confidence in our own ability to be able to effectively protect our goal. The final whistle went, and it was sheer joy. I actually hugged them. Ew. We celebrated like morons, and took the trophy to McDonald's. It was indescribable how I felt that night and for the next few days.

Is winning important?

You can bet your house it is!

So why? I mentioned that I am task oriented, and believe in performance rather than results, so then why would my behaviour and emotional state have been so different had that shot not gone in, and we didn't win? Could I have been happy with just knowing that we had played amazing all season, and that one lucky triple-nutmeg goal is all that prevented us from lifting the trophy? No. Absolutely not. Not at all. That trophy was rightfully ours. It's a symbol of everything we have achieved, and how well we had done. After the bad times we had on the eleven-a-side pitch, and all the negativity that we had come through, we needed something like this. It meant everything to us. It felt like two-fingers up to all those doubters and everyone that had caused us trouble. But those aren't entirely selfless reasons, are they? Suppose not. It feels great to win, made even better by shutting a few people up. There is a little bit of spoilt brat in all of us. Cristiano Ronaldo has learned to embrace his, and they are now one and the same. We would have been distraught had we lost that game. We can perfectly justify and rationalise the merits of performance over winning, and when you're a mid-table team, pretty much everyone agrees with it, but when you actually have that chance of success, nothing less will do.

So is it development versus winning?

We can all develop, we can all grow, and we can all improve. That's certain. Regardless of age, ability, or experience, there is always a way for us to be better. By focusing on performance, setting targets, achieving goals, measuring progress, we will improve. Do we need to improve to be champions? Absolutely. No team ever wins the league and then keeps the exact same team. Everyone looks to strengthen at every available opportunity. To be champions at the end of a nine month season means that a lot of things have to go right. There are thousands of decisions to be made in every game and every training session. So much can influence a team or an individual negatively or positively. To say "we're going to win the league this year" is like saying at the start of the game "we need to score more goals than our opponents" or telling a racing driver to "drive faster than everybody else." It simplifies it almost to the point of offence.

Listen to champions and they always tell you that they take it one step at a time. I want to achieve so much in my life, but will that happen by daydreaming or by working? I need to focus on every little thing I can, make sure it's done right, and move onto the next one. And so we have another way of winning. It's all little wins. Little inches. Little yesses. I got it right, good, next one. I got it right, good, next one. Brick by brick, step by step. How can we get closer to achieving our goals? And that's it. Goals. Not actually putting the ball in the net, but targets. Short term. Systematically attack the small issues. See each one as a win, that builds into the larger win. I played an accurate pass, that's a win. I made a very important block, that's a win. Enough of those wins, and you should win the game. Enough of those wins, and you should win the league.

By setting it out like this, it aids consistency. It's hard to keep going when you know the end is so far away. What's the point in working so hard now, as I won't experience any of the potential success until much, much later? Anyone who has done long distance running will know this. It's boring. It's monotonous. I hate it. As soon as I take my first few steps, I hate it, and myself. I want to quit. I want to finish. I'd rather ride a bike or drive instead. But the benefits of running are undeniable, and if I want to be fit and healthy, I should definitely be exercising. I cope by trying to distract myself, by music, stories, TV if there is one, and rarely looking at the time. I will set myself a target of three songs, one chapter, until the commercial break, until I check the time or distance.

Another thing to do is to not compare yourself to others. Sure, if you had their circumstances, you may be doing better or worse, but it's a needless philosophical debate to have with yourself right there and then. Like all those little wins, your opponents will be doing the same. It's very hard to influence the amount of little wins they have, and so judging yourself by their performance or their score, is not worth doing. You can't control them. All you can do is make yourself better than them. And if you can't do that... cheat. No, don't cheat. Congratulate them, and find ways for you to be better than them next time. It takes a lot of humility, which many of us struggle with.


So we have to redefine what we mean by winning. I had these well documented discussions with the parents of my boys in Mexico. They wanted to win win win, and couldn't understand why we would lose lose lose. As long as the boys were trying their best and having fun, I couldn't ask for more. I literally could not ask for more. What was I supposed to do? "Juan Pablo, when you show up tomorrow, I'd like you to magically be ten times better than you are now." I swear some of them believed that coaching was actually that simple. Many of them would agree with me, but then completely change their mood after the game. Football makes hypocrites of us all. I was just happy if Juan Pablo stopped getting his willy out during games. It's a big step for seven year olds, and some are ready for it sooner than others.

Anyone who's heard me ramble will be aware of the story of the time we lost 18-1 to a Barcelona team. These were some of the best seven year olds in the city. They had exceptional technique, and were frighteningly intelligent with their play. We couldn't compete with that. These boys were likely born with a football at their feet, practising their motor skills every day since they could open their eyes, and were playing against mine, who were largely a group of novices. Of course there was only going to be one winner. Due to the idiocy of the Mexican youth system, leagues were not separate at this age, and so we could play just about any team of any quality. What good does that do to either the winner or the loser? If we're getting beat every week, what are we learning? If you're giving out a thrashing every week, what are you learning?

When it become impossible to win, winning should not be the goal. That Barcelona game, despite the thrashing, actually provides many learning opportunities. If these boys are the same age as mine, let's see what they are capable of. What are they good at and how do they do it? How much of that difference can we make up by the next time we play them? We wouldn't ever be able to beat them, so winning shouldn't be the goal, but we could improve our performance. On any given day, the four things you control are desire, fitness, organisation, and effort. Can we want it more? Can we run for longer? Can we be more switched on than them? Can we work harder than them? Often you see teams that are weaker win games because they trump their opponents in one of those categories. Sometimes it's not actually about collective ability.

Those then become our goals. Get those things right, and our performance will give us a good enough chance to win the game. That's winning. Win at those things. And win for yourself. If you're winning for somebody else, it will never be true enough for you to be able to draw that pure inspiration from out of yourself.

One dad once said to me "I don't get this whole not winning thing" when I tried to explain to him my views on the importance of performance over results. It came with an accusatory tone, as if I was deliberately setting up my teams to lose. At every game we go over the things we need to do in order to win that match. We need to make sure we do this... do that... exploit them like that... you know, the usual detailed pre-match team talk. What he had seen was me rotating the squad, and sometimes playing players out of position. Well, the dyspraxic little fat kid that can't kick a ball also needs time on the pitch, or else he's never going to learn how to kick a ball, or even lose weight for that matter. The striker played in defence because he can't tackle, and by putting him there, he's forced to have to learn that skill. Losing a game at eight years old is not going to matter one bit to him when he's twenty five (it won't even matter twenty minutes after the game with most kids) but what will matter to him (trust me, I've been there) is when he wakes up one day as an adult and realises what a limited footballer he is because his coaches played to win, and never gave him the correct care and attention to develop his skills.

With kids, when forging through a curriculum throughout the season, I'd base our performance upon what we'd done in training leading up to the game. As we know, we can't control the quality of our opponents. One week you'll lose by ten, the next week you'll win by ten. That is youth football the world over. So let's look for those little wins. We worked on short passes this week, so I'm going to measure our performance by how well we pass the ball around (in addition to the required information that's going to help them WIN THE GAME). At the end of the game, we gather in, and talk about how it went, comparing the performance against our objectives. Kids want to win. They are very competitive. Who can shout the loudest. Who can hold their breath the longest. Whose stick can float downstream the quickest. They know that winning and losing is a thing, and they do value it. What we absolutely cannot allow is for them to feel the extra pressure of the parents, who almost make it seem like their love depends upon the result of the football game.

Now of course, if you don't know what the team is up to, you're only objective measure is the scoreline. Which team scored more goals? Some dads that are a bit more into it may go online and search for a league table, to know whether defeat could be justified, or that winning should be expected. Some even have a mate whose son plays in that team, or has played that team before, and like to give helpful scouting advice, often done on the sly, like some kind of drug deal in the crisp open air of a cloudy November morning. "This team's got one really fast centre forward. You're gonna have to watch out." Thanks mate. I'll tell the kids to "watch out." I'm sure they'll know what to do. At the end of the game we'll have a team discussion. "Did you see him?" I'll ask. "Yeah" they'll say, "but we couldn't stop him scoring." "Well then" I'll surmise, "you should have watched out, shouldn't you."

Why is it that kids play sport? We've all seen the research by now. They like to learn new skills, be with their friends, they love the game, they want to be like their hero Steven Reid. Winning is very far down that list. Usually said with a thoughtful "Yeah, I suppose that would be nice." Like receiving a blow job from Jessica Alba. That's not the reason why I went to the supermarket today, but since she was there and was offering one, I thought "Yeah, why not?" We've all seen the parents that live vicariously through their kids, and no matter how much we parody them, and spend hours educating ourselves and club members about spotting them and their borderline abusive behaviour, it still goes on. And it always will.

I suppose we need to ask more questions, because the importance of winning is often circumstantial, dependent upon a huge amount of variables. If you can't answer it with a yes or no, I would offer that you are not clear enough on your convictions or that the question is too vague.

Would you prefer to win your next game?
Is it more important to you than anything else in your life?
Would you rather die than lose?
Is winning more important than your health?
Do you feel significantly (difference between heroin and domestic abuse) better emotionally when you win?
Is winning the only thing you can think about?
Is there every grace is defeat?
Are you a sore loser?
Are you willing to sacrifice relationships to win?
Do you resort to cheating to win?
Have you ever lied about or embellished winning?
Is it the FA Cup final?
Will you or others die if you lose?

That may provide a little clarity as to your values when it comes to winning. Keep in mind that as humans are loss averse, we need two wins to make up for one loss. That's why we sometimes engineer wins by embellishing their importance, or overplaying our significance in them, sometimes by taking credit for the hard work and achievement of others. I think I've pretty much stopped referring to Rovers as 'We' and when someone says to me "you had a good result at the weekend" I instantly assume they mean the game that I coached.

So I can't provide anymore clarity on the subject, only that it is situational, and depends entirely upon how invested you are into the outcome. I remember Portsmouth winning the FA Cup in 2008, and suddenly everyone around here was a lifelong, devoted Pompey fan, blue through and through. I'd had plenty of conversations before when such people had informed me upon their negative feelings towards football, and how they could never be drawn into it. It's the feeling of winning that attracts us. These people wanted to be associated with winning. It was nothing to do with their feelings towards their local team, but entirely down to wanting to be caught up in the hype, and thus come off with a better reputation by proxy, rather than through actually earning it via any kind of merit.

The 2010 World Cup was another great example. The final, called one of the most boring of all time, was fairly boring. These games are so tense that they now keep on ending up 0-0 after 90 minutes. With the lack of goal mouth action, my friends and family, one-by-one, vacated the room. I found myself to be the only one left there watching it. Of course, I wanted to see some entertainment. I didn't care about either team. Nothing was happening. I just wanted goals. Where had my mates gone? To the kitchen, to play cards. To the defence of my friends, there were GIRLS there, and so socialising with them was more important than watching football. And as such, their priorities became clear. They were in the kitchen, penis measuring. The game on TV provided no means from which they could measure their penises, and thus they relocated to a new arena, and let the games begin. They couldn't win with the game on TV, and saw better odds somewhere else.

The importance of winning depends upon the stakes, the circumstances, the likelihood of winning, how much you personally value winning, and your own morals.

Do you want to win for you, or do you want to win for your ego?