Yesterday, there was a collision between my coaching soccer and being a parent. 

It all started many games ago when our team had a penalty opportunity in a close game, and my chosen shooter missed the goal completely when he shot the ball.  After that early season game loss the conversation with my devastated son went like this:

“Dad, will you please let me shoot the penalty shot next time we get a chance?” 

“Ok buddy,” I said, “I will.”

“Promise me Dad!”

“Okay son, I promise.”

Well, about two games later we tie and have a shoot out at the end of the game.  I have to collect five penalty shooters for my team to compete against the other team’s five penalty shooters.  I quickly chose my son as one of my shooters, knowingly and confidently fulfilling my obligation to him.  And, fortunately, we did win the game and went home overjoyed on that night.

Okay, here’s where it gets sticky.  Last night, at the championship game of our league tourney, we were down by one (3-2), and then the other team fouls in the penalty box.  Understand, this was a very exciting moment for our team and we knew it.  This was our chance to score an easy goal, tie-up the game and give our team a chance for victory.

As coach, I had to make a quick decision; one I knew might cost us the game.  As I was frantically running through play scenarios in my mind, my son approaches, obviously disturbed and desperate.

“Dad, you promised!  You promised you would let me kick the next penalty shot!  You promised me.”

“Son, you kicked one of our penalty shots in the shoot out a couple of games ago.  Remember?  I fulfilled my promise buddy.”

Then I hurriedly and at full volume called out, “Kevin, you kick the penalty shot!”  (Kevin is not my son.)

Now, with even more desperation on his face and in his voice my son said,

“But Dad!  You gotta let me shoot it!  You have to!”

In this moment…

My inside Coach thought:  let the boy who shot the winning goal in the shoot out a couple games ago, the only one who actually scored in that shootout, let him shoot the penalty kick.  Maybe he’ll do it again and get us back in this game. 

My inside Dad thought:  Obviously he doesn’t feel like I fulfilled my promise in the shootout a couple games ago.  I really want to give him this chance…but won’t people think I’m favoring my son, even though I think he’s the best out there.  Plus, I just loudly and maybe too quickly yelled for Kevin to kick the penalty shot.  I can’t switch now.  But I want him to have this moment. 

…I listened to my inside coach.  Kevin missed the goal altogether.  He didn’t even put it on goal!  It was like the early season penalty shot all over again.

And then I felt it, the remorse, the heavy crushing-down weight of my bad decision. 

Not from a coaching perspective.  Oh, I made the right decision from my coaching perspective.  I mean, I was justified.  I can legally justify my decision as a coach in my mind even now as I write.  Choosing Kevin was a good idea.  He proved himself worthy. 

No, I’m not talking about from a coaching perspective; I’m talking about my newfound remorse felt from my perspective as a dad. 

I learned the hard way what it feels like to really let down your son.  This was a moment, a gift really, that I had the chance to give to my son for him to possibly shine in victory among his peers and in his parent’s eyes, a chance to gain confidence in his own abilities, which could have possibly resulted in much bigger dreams for himself.  The fact is, I didn’t give him this moment, his moment, and I quickly regretted my decision.

I have often wondered if I would like coaching my kids as the competition grew more intense with their age.  Today, I can honestly say with assurance that I do like it.  Actually, I love it!  It fills me with joy and energy to see my kids from the sideline playing with all their guts, using skills that I taught them on the practice field and in the back yard.  However, I must say, I never anticipated the emotional anguish of when being a coach truly collides with being a dad. 

From now on, when my son gets a moment to shine like the one I passed on yesterday, I’m going to give him that moment every time.  I won’t even think about other options.

Why, because I’m his coach or his dad? 

My answer is “Yes!” 

Yes, because I am fully and lovingly both.

And won’t I be lucky to have that choice again.