The 10 Most Unforgettable LSFC Moments
I was amused at some of the things I placed there; and would like to share this list which was not really known before outside of my football team.
Please bear in mind that this piece was written in 2004, updated here and there:
Twenty-nine years of coaching gave me a whole cache of memories; some of them pleasant, some totally forgettable. In this list, I enumerate the moments which stand out in my mind, an opportunity to let down some of the guard all who played under me associate me with. All that guard, as everyone will discover, was just a veneer of seeming strength expected of a coach.
So young, with a whole life ahead of him... 20 years on, the feeling of loss has not waned one bit. If one singular moment changed my outlook on life in general and football in particular, it was the moment Joel Alcala (Ariel’s team-mate) called me from a meeting to say that Ariel had been run over by an errant bus. I was never the same since; and what the game – and results – meant to me took on a totally different perspective.
Coaching, particularly at youth level, can be a thankless job; but that brief moment when an expert from one of the world’s best footballing nations gave his thumbs up to the brand of football that I have always subscribed to made the hours upon hours spent on the football field seem not such a waste of precious time, after all...
Those days, I would normally turn livid when a player defied my instructions; but how could I have been so when my captain ran till his face turned blue because of sheer desire to win the game and the tournament? I don’t believe any other LSFC player ran so much for me and for his team than Lutay did that December day.
The feeling of pride I had in a team was never more immense than that moment, when a team which played its heart out but could not win on account of an opponent which refused to play football felt so completely shamed by the unexpected turn of events. No tongue-lashing was forthcoming; instead the highest praise I could deliver to a team which had made subsequent squads look pale in comparison.
Finally arriving at the quarters when competitions were already under way, I was surprised to hear, during my first evening coaches’ meeting, the delegation head castigate the other coaches for the slackness of their discipline... In comparison, he pointed out, to the football team, whose captain alone was enough to keep all the players in line. Indeed, winning is NOT all that matters...
I was seriously thinking of quitting the game, barely able as I was to deal emotionally with the turn of events. Sid Villegas’s mother Lily, fortunately, made the three-hour drive to see her son; and it was to her that I confided that I was thinking of giving up coaching altogether. Her reply made a world of difference, pointing out to me as she did that, in the first place, neither of the two accidents happened on the football field. She probably does not even remember THAT conversation; nor does she know how much she had to do with my decision to stay on.,,
I remember my knees just simply turned to jelly; and I sank straight onto the sofa, having gone colourless, something cold shooting up my spine... I had already started to get dressed to visit the wake, which I was sure would be at the family home inside the Base, when common sense prevailed and urged me to verify.
I called up Pao Puertollano and then Rommel Cabrera. The latter was initially shocked; but then paused to think and remembered having seen John during the graduation just the night before, when John was supposed to already have been dead. So off went Rommel to investigate; and a good thing he called back before Reyan and I had left for the wake because John’s death, as it turned out, was somebody’s idea of a sick joke!
What was unforgettable were the moments in the seminar room with the facilitator, Dettmar Kramer, formerly of Bayern München and the German national team. Everyone was entranced when the football “guru” spiced up each lesson with first-hand stories about bringing up the likes of Franz Beckenbauer and Gerd Müller. It was only then that I fully appreciated how Moses must have felt talking to the Almighty!
So simple; so rapier-like in its incisiveness; so vintage LSFC; so vintage Liverpool. A goal that stands out above the hundreds scored by LSFC players because of how it symbolized my belief in how the game ought to be played... Simple but quick...
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