Scouting for boys

It is two days before match day and already the tension is building, my husband has heard through his place on the League Committee (Yawn yawn! he feels I should show him a bit more respect for this hugely important position that he holds) that there will be scouts from a Championship team in the area this weekend. My response, that I thought it a little cold to be out camping, and shouldn’t they be doing some form of indoor whittling, was met with another withering look. So,it is lots of practice, kicking balls all over the garden when it’s dry and around the living room when it’s wet. The correct food will have to be produced at the correct time; carbs must be loaded at the appropriate hour. The amount of sleep gained over the next two nights will be measured to the nearest nano second, indoor humidity and air temperature will be closely monitored, along with any sign that would signify bad luck. We must all sit in the same places while watching the TV, as we did the night before they last won a game. All family members must wear the same pants, socks and vest. Our black cat will not know which way to turn, as my husband and son keep walking in front of her, and any shoes placed anywhere near the table top will attract cries of anguish from my husband and son, who will instantly start juggling Voodoo Stones and Juju Wood, in an attempt to break the curse that may cause them to lose a game of football that Baden Powel’s grandson may happen along to watch!
To be perfectly honest I fail to see what can be gleaned from watching a group of eight year olds charging around en-masse in their efforts to kick a ball. I am told, by “his committeeness” that all the best players stand out when they are young, and that the clubs like to get their hands on them as early as possible. Apparently if you haven’t made it by the age of ten, you are over the hill.
Myself, I think a quiet word with the mum or carer of the player in question would prove to be far more enlightening than watching them chug around in the mud. Revealing questions like, “what is he like in the bathroom?” speak volumes. My husband’s exhortations while taking our young son to the toilet come to mind: “ Oh come on lets hit the target!” he would shout as number one son gaily sprinkled all over his suede loafers. Several damp areas around the loo over the following weeks confirmed to me that this boy was never going to make a striker. My husband continues to encourage him to “hit the target” and play up front on the football field despite this early indication of wayward shooting.
A close friend of ours had a dear little boy who unfortunately had a vague and vacant expression on his face for much of the day and consistently dropped anything you gave him. He currently plays in goal for an under ten team that is in danger of conceding over a hundred goals in a season, his father convinced that somewhere inside his son lurks a goalkeeper on the basis that he has big hands.
Another friend also has a relatively unsuccessful junior goalkeeper in the family. From memory, I recall that as a toddler, when excited, he would run round in circles clapping his hands; behaviour he still exhibits on match day when faced with an opposition corner.
A quiet word in the ear of the mum would prove to be far more revealing than standing in the rain watching a clumsy kickabout, or engaging in prolonged conversation with an over ambitious Dad.
Mums could be encouraged to look out for particular signs.
For the aspiring striker, the aforementioned bathroom trick of wee-ing in the toilet and not on the floor is a good start. Holding onto things that they are given, and a reasonable level of concentration, good signs for a future goalkeeper. Children who show a propensity to hold hands and walk well in lines, would obviously cope well in defence with the off side trap, and the child who refuses to leave his friend’s side for hours on end would cope well with the man marking role. Children who endlessly run around in large circles were born for a role in midfield, while the lad who mixes sitting down a lot with brief periods of intense activity is obviously born to be substitute. To the female eye, the signs are apparent from the infant years. An awful lot of standing around in the rain assessing the merits of a particular boy could be avoided if the mum was consulted at the earliest opportunity.