Yesterday marked the end of my first coaching gig. I also had a really awesome motorcycle ride.
Coaching soccer was kind of a last minute thing. They had so many boys try out for soccer that they decided they wanted to do a B-team so that more boys would get to play. I, along with my co-coach Michael Chu, took on the B-team. Right around the same time, I bought a beat up old dirt bike off of a British dude.
The first day of practice, I remember standing with Michael watching the scrimmage and saying, "We are completely hopeless. These kids don't know a thing about soccer." They could barely even complete a pass to one another. We started at square one with passing and settling. That was in the middle of August. Similarly, I began at square one of the motorcycle. Having never ridden one as a means of transportation before, I rode it around the building right before I bought it, and I almost rear-ended the car in front of me at the first stop light I pulled up to.
We lost our first game 11-0 against the British school up the street. They brought their A-team with seventh and eighth graders. We brought our B-team with mostly sixth grade kids who could barely speak English and were playing in the dirt on defense (literally, they were playing in the dirt). In the first week of having the motorcycle, I noticed that the accelerator was sticking, and that it was very unsafe to ride. Having just made the purchase, I was very discouraged.
Some weeks passed as we prepared for a tournament up in Seoul. We started to see glimmers of hope in the boys' play, and Michael and I agreed that scoring one goal and or getting a draw would be our secret coaches' goal for the tournament. The boys were terrified. They came out in the first game and forced a 0-0 draw. Excitement! They came out in the second and third game and narrowly lost. In the fourth game, we had our first goal of the season. Right before we left for the tournament, my boss Bryan quickly and easily helped me fix the motorcycle.
After the tournament, practice resumed as usual with no games on the schedule for the rest of the season. We were hoping to get a rematch against the British team's B-squad, but besides that, it was just going out on Monday and Wednesdays and having fun. The boys enjoyed a more laid back attitude, and so did we. The weather was beautiful, and I found some great routes around the coast to take my motorcycle out for a spin. The views were stunning.
When mid-term grades came back, over half of our team was ineligible. One of our boys lost his passport coming back from break in China and was stuck there. We didn't have enough to field a team for a scheduled rematch against the British squad, and Michael and I resolved to just letting the boys scrimmage at practice. The headlight went out on my motorcycle. I went to fix it, and on the way to the shop, I ran out of gas and had to walk it a mile to the gas station.
For our last practice, Michael and I told the boys we would be playing in a scrimmage with them. As we played, I noticed beautiful connecting passes, incredible defense from a boy who had the self-confidence of a pea all season, an understanding of the strategy Michael and I had put in place, movement on and off the ball, and countless other improvements. Michael and I stood together at the end of practice marveling at the progress the boys had made. It was one of my proudest moments at this job so far. Earlier in the day, I had taken the motorcycle for a ride on a seaside road with incredible views of the giant mountain closest to campus. As I rode, I realized how free my mind was from the stupid stresses that come with any job. I didn't miss home then; I realized how lucky I was to be in such a beautiful place on a beat up old dirtbike going wherever I felt like.
I realize how well I've gotten to know myself in these last few months. I realize who I want to be and how I want to be. I realize what I need to stay sane around a bunch of middle school boys when sometimes it seems like their life goal is to make me go insane. I realize that while I'm off doing what I'm doing, home is always going to be there, and I'm making lots and lots of different homes, too. I think up until recently, I've had a massive fear of missing out. I miss my friends at home like crazy. I miss my parents and my sister. I was holding back from getting attached to this place. I think coaching and my motorcycle showed me that this place is somewhere I can get used to.
When I left, although I was ready to go abroad and wanted to, in a way, it felt like I was running from something. I didn't get my dream job; I went through a break up; I felt like I had no direction. I don't really believe in some higher power dictating my life, but I do think I'm meant to be here. I'm in a really good place overall, and I think I'd like to come back for a second year if the school offers me a promotion. It's decision time in the next few weeks!
Hey, thanks for reading. It's six weeks until I'm home and get to see so many people that I'm missing so much. Hope you're having as good of a week as I am.
-Ryan
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