One Sunday evening a few weeks ago, I received an email from one of the captains of the varsity field hockey team inviting me to be their "Coach of the Day" at their next home game, scheduled for the next Tuesday. Students don't realize how much it means to adults when they invite them to do something like this, and I was thrilled to be asked. I had no idea that the field hockey team had a practice of doing this, nor did I know what being Coach of the Day would entail, but I was going to accept the invitation even though I had an important meeting that conflicted with the game.
I played field hockey from 4th through 12th grade. In fact, when I went to boarding school in 10th grade, one of the only goals I set for myself was to make the varsity field hockey team. As I started school, it was on the field hockey field where I first felt at home. Despite that, I wasn't very good, and quite honestly, I never put in the effort necessary to improve. Senior year, I finally made the varsity–goal achieved. However, after just a few weeks, the coach–whom I loved–cut me back to JV. I was very disappointed and humiliated. This decidedly mediocre career did not exactly prepare me to coach field hockey. Moreover, the rules have changed drastically in the last 40-plus years. Add to all this that, besides helping supervise afternoon soccer during Andover Summer Session, which definitely doesn't count, I have never coached a day in my life.
I had assumed that the captains were not looking for coaching experience when extending their Coach of the Day invitation and that really all I needed to do was be a supportive presence on the sideline. Until I talked to Chris Lynch. When I told him about the field hockey team's invitation, he told me that I had to give a pep talk both before the game and at halftime. We had this conversation the day of the game, so, of course, I immediately became concerned that I wasn't prepared. I contacted Katie McEnroe, the coach, to confirm my actual responsibilities and learned that I was not required to give a pre-game pep talk, but that some inspiration at halftime might be in order, perhaps using a favorite quotation. Between meetings, I did some Googling and found a few appropriate quotations that could be used under various circumstances (were they winning? Or losing?).
The afternoon of the game, I changed into shorts, sneakers, and a Holton Athletics T-shirt and hat and headed to the field. It was a beautiful afternoon and we were ready to take on Potomac. By now, I had learned that Chris had been only teasing, so I felt fairly relaxed. I wished the girls good luck and they took the field. They played well in the beginning of the first half, dominating the field and scoring two goals. Then they started to slack off, playing with less heart. At halftime, the coaches urged them to pick up their game and warned them of the old adage that a two-goal lead is always the most dangerous. When asked by the coach if I wanted to add anything, I observed that even I had noticed the diminished energy and urged them to give it their all as they headed into the second half. I was prepared with a quotation, "Believe you can and you're halfway there" from Theodore Roosevelt, but it felt forced under the circumstances and I didn't use it. So much for Chris Lynch!
The team played better second half, but still not as well as early in the game. Nonetheless, they held on to their dangerous 2-0 lead and managed to expand it with a third goal, winning decisively. Throughout the game, I cheered enthusiastically and periodically encouraged the girls on the bench to raise their voices more loudly.
At the end of the game the team manager approached me, imploring us to do something about the mosquitoes, which, according to her, plague not only her sitting at the edge of the woods, but players and referees. I expressed sympathy, told her to send me some solutions, and promised to see what I could do. (After some research, bug spray seems like the best option.) So those were my contributions: cheering, a little encouragement, and insect management support.
As is true of most such endeavors, I gained much more than I gave. First, of all, two 25-minute halves with the clock stopping constantly (field hockey is notorious for how often the whistle blows) is a LONG time. While I watch quite a lot of games, I rarely attend from beginning to end. There were times when, quite honestly, I looked at the clock and couldn't believe how much time was left. It probably would have felt different if we were losing. Which brings me to my most important lesson: how demanding coaching is. I know firsthand how hard teaching is, but coaching felt different. Our varsity field hockey coaching staff consists of three coaches, two of whom played field hockey in college and the third of whom played soccer in college and has coached field hockey and other sports for years. They were totally focused for almost 90 minutes, constantly cheering, exhorting, and directing–"get back," "move up," etc. They observed the entire field and all 11 players, watching how they interacted with each other, how they passed and took free shots, how they commanded or didn't command space, how they covered players from the other team. They moved players around to make play more effective. They called different corner plays in an effort to outwit the opposition. They decided when to sub a player and talked with each girl about her play, both encouraging and directing her. One of the best players came off the field and, clearly frustrated, said to the head coach, "You are contradicting yourself in what you are telling me to do." The coach calmly said, "I understand why you feel that way, but I'm not contradicting myself; it depends on whether you're on defense or offense," then drew a diagram to demonstrate what she meant. During the course of the game, the coaches thought about every girl, her strengths, her weaknesses, what she could learn, and how she could contribute to the game. It seemed like directing a symphony (not that I have done that either, by the way)–far more complex and personal than teaching a class.
Early in my career, I heard Ted Sizer, the educational reformer and my high school headmaster, observe that teachers should behave like coaches. What he meant was what I saw that afternoon: the time taken with every player to reinforce good play, to provide direct, actionable, specific feedback, all at a very personal level with the goal of growing each girl into the best player she could be. Teachers certainly have that goal for their students–to help each student achieve her potential. Sizer was saying that they probably would be even more successful in reaching it if they employed the same kind of intensely personal feedback–personal to the individual and delivered in-person–that I observed the coaches providing.
Finally, I gained a deeper appreciation for my colleagues by watching them do their jobs so well up close. I also observed the girls on the team closely and got to know each of them a little better, including two of my advisees.
In the post-game talk, the coaches encouraged the girls to remember what they had done right and to hold onto the good feeling of winning. I did! I was totally pumped and reveled in the fact that, so far, I have a winning record as a coach.
