The impact of cars

UPDATE Nov 29: So six weeks, almost to the hour, after my brother in law was admitted to hospital, he was released. He went home last night with 20 boxes of medical supplies related to his tracheotomy and feeding tube. He’s seven surgeries in with more to come in the short and long term but he’s home and we’re all very happy. The medical attention he has had has been amazing. His friends have been just as amazing in their support for him, my sister and their kids. Seriously, you want friends like his. Both his and my sister’s employers have been models of how you hope companies react in these situations. There’s good that has come out of this but it’s come at a heavy price.

As much as I argue below for better awareness of cyclists on the road the biggest thing I will take away from this is my brother in law’s resilience and calm, measured determination to get through this and get back to a regular life. He’s not kidding himself about any of this. It’s a serious trauma he went through and is still going through but the acknowledgement of this and the willingness to confront it with a positivism that is very real, that knows the many challenges that still lay ahead, despite still being in an acute phase of recovery, is frankly stunning and very inspiring.  


This is the first MMCB article not about soccer.

My brother in law just spent his third night in an Intensive Care Unit last night. He will be there at least another week. He has had several surgeries already and has many more to come. He’s married to my sister and has two kids and a dog. He works and he has been a volunteer coach in his community in both hockey and soccer. He’s also an avid cyclist who completed the Whistler Gran Fondo in September. And as I told him a few years ago, he’s the nicest guy in our family.

He was riding his bike late afternoon on Tuesday, wearing a bright green cycling jersey and clearly had the right of way. A car, seemingly in a hurry, didn’t see him. 

He took pretty much the entire force of the collision on his face. Everything there is broken in multiple places. Everything. Plus a broken arm. He has no brain injury though. The doctors have made it clear his helmet saved his life.

My sister, niece and nephew (and many, many others) are a razor’s edge from grieving his death. My sister’s voice has never sounded like it did when she first called me. It was just so heavy with shock, detached from its normal vigour.

There are more and more cyclists on the road and even though this means fewer cars in traffic, too often they are seen as an inconvenience to drivers at best and the enemy at worst. Cyclists have an equal entitlement to the road. There is no eminent domain for car drivers when it comes to roads vis a vis cyclists.

Vancouver has built several bike lanes and instead of this being broadly embraced, too many drivers and radio hosts, who seem to feel their job is to create civic frenzy, demonize those who created them and those who use them. The derogatory caricatures I’ve heard applied to cyclists is just another example of how divisive western societies are becoming. This insistence on creating the “other” that “regular folks” can and should oppose is dangerous and leads, in this case, to drivers not believing they need to look for, see and, yes, accommodate cyclists because they are somehow less worthy of the spaces they are sharing. Cyclists are not an inconvenience to their commute, not a drain on their tax dollars, not an undesirable element in society but too many see it this way. In reality, they are very much like the rest of us. Fathers, mothers, partners, sons, daughters, commuters, coaches, volunteers and generally very nice people who live and work in your community. The message needs to become that using roads, whether in a car or on a bike, carries more responsibilities as these roads increasingly are shared with a variety of things on wheels. 

So please re-think how cyclists fit into our transportation network and start acknowledging the benefits of separated bike lanes in high traffic areas and bike friendly streets in quieter arterial routes rather than focusing on perceived negatives. As I write this I’m resisting the impulse to spew anger towards those who oppose this idea because it somehow impinges their birthright to shave a few minutes off their travel time. I really want to but that’s divisive too so I’m just asking that you recognize the very real life consequences of not respecting cyclists and how vulnerable they are on roads. I’m also asking that we all get a bit more organized and allow more time to get to where we need to go so the trip is not characterized by tension and impatience. Yes, some cyclists are assholes and reckless and yell rude things to drivers. That’s wrong but the damage they can cause is completely asymmetrical to that that a disengaged or angry driver can in their fast moving 2000 pound torpedo.

I’ve just started to teach my youngest son to drive. We’ve already covered how to look for pedestrians and cyclists. It will continue and be repeated many, many times. It starts there.

I started riding a bike again this summer. Partially motivated by my brother in law, partially by other friends. I really enjoy it but I’ve already had close calls. What I already see though is that cyclists can do their part too. Where there are bike lanes, use them instead of busy roads (I will never understand seeing bikes on Broadway when there are excellent bike routes a block away for the most part). Be courteous. Communicate your intentions with hand signals. Try to make eye contact with drivers at intersections. Wear a helmet. Wear a helmet. Wear a good fucking helmet and strap it on properly

It’s been an eye opening last few days. My brother in law has a long recovery ahead of him but he will recover. My sister’s voice will recover. Some cyclists are not so lucky. Don’t wait until it’s a cyclist you know that is badly injured or killed before you start to change your behaviour. Please.

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Going straight to the top

Ran into a former coach at our club yesterday and it reminded me of one of my favourite coach stories. Most people who read this will know what an International Transfer Clearance (ITC) is but briefly for those who do not it is a FIFA initiative designed to curb unscrupulous agents preying on young players, generally from poorer countries, who are desperate to get tryouts and contracts with professional clubs in Europe. It forces clubs to get an array of intrusive questions answered so as to ascertain that the player and his or her parents are legitimately in the country to eliminate the chance that an agent has charged them a large sum of money to arrange a trial when in fact many, in the past, have just been abandoned to the streets when they reach Europe.

So ITC’s serve a purpose but their implementation has been extended to every player between the age of ten and 17 regardless of the level of play or country. That means we get 10-20 players every year who move to Vancouver and need to fill out an ITC just to play low level recreational soccer. Clearly ITC’s were not intended to stop kids who have moved to Canada from playing recreational soccer but there are no exceptions to the policy.

In theory, once their ITC application leaves Canada and goes to the national association of the country they moved from, if it is not responded to in 30 days, the player is free to play. There are often side issues that lengthen that though.

So back to Tim, the former coach at our club. He was coaching a U16 or U17 Silver team (fourth of five levels of play) and had a new player who was keen to play. The 30 day deadline came and went but there was no clearance from our governing body. Tim asked our admin staff to look into it and the query flowed from our club to the District to the Provincial body and to the Canadian Soccer Association (CSA). And then nothing. We couldn’t get an answer. Tim was not impressed and was increasingly upset at the ridiculousness of this player new to our club not being able to play. He persisted, going through the established channels, but with every non-response he got more impatient as this dragged out over close to three months.

So, as is not too unusual on the west side of Vancouver, a very affluent part of the city, Tim decided he was done dealing with underlings. Instead he decided to go right to the top to get this sorted out. He picked up the phone and called the then new CSA President (and now FIFA Vice President) Victor Montagliani! Tim had never met or talked to Victor before so it’s not like he was leaning on him as a friend to get something. He just called him and asked, persistently, that Victor figure out what had happened and fix it.

And the best part is…Victor, to his credit and my amazement, did just that.

He took down the details, made a phone call or two and got back to Tim days later saying the problem was solved and the kid was now eligible to play.

I’m not going to hang anyone out to dry over what the problem was but it was a simple clerical error on the Canada side of things and Victor was able to get someone to look into it quickly, realize what the mistake was and rectify it.

So the next time you don’t have a ref show up to do your game or you’re not sure if a field is closed due to inclement weather, you know who to call.

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Messi’s El Clasico goal: so many coaching points

It was spectacular theatre. Thirty seconds left in injury time when the clip starts with Pique receiving the ball three yards off his end line. Eighteen seconds later the ball is in the Real Madrid goal and Barcelona have won the Clasico at the Bernabeu 3-2. How does that happen? This is how…

91’30” : Sergi Roberto plays a pass back to Gerard Pique drawing Mateo Kovacic and James Rodriguez towards the centreback. Pique audaciously lifts a pass beyond both to Sergi Busquets.

91’32” : Both Roberto and Pique are already moving forward to support the ball. Sergio Busquets does what Busquets invariably and flawlessly does. He takes a silky touch to settle the ball, drawing Kovacic back towards as well as pulling Ronaldo forward to him. His second touch breaks the press from Ronaldo and Kovacic and does two things. It is placed in Roberto’s path in such a way that he receives it in stride and so that Luca Modric is tempted to pinch in and intercept it. Roberto gets their first and in four seconds from the time Pique plays the ball, Barcelona have played two passes that have allowed Roberto to break clear of four Real Madrid players.

At this point, context is important. Beyond the score and the time remaining, keep in mind that Real Madrid have lost Sergio Ramos to a red card and did not bring on another defender because they were losing by a goal at the time of the ejection. Having had to replace the injured Bale with Marco Asensio and Casemiro with Kovacic, due to Casemiro being on a yellow and likely just one more foul from a red, Zidane opted to take Karim Benzema off and put Rodriguez on. Real Madrid were essentially playing with three at the back: Dani Carvajal, Nacho Fernandez and Marcelo. As Kovacic had pushed up, Toni Kroos had dropped off.

91’35” : If you freeze the video at 91’34” you see Marcelo move over to try to tackle Roberto. You also see Asensio on the far side. Real Madrid have six of their nine outfield players in the attacking third with less than thirty seconds left and the game tied when they are down a man. Add in the fact that Messi is on the field and this is unforgivable on their part. It’s about to get worse though. Marcelo can end this madness and preserve the draw by simply fouling Roberto for the price of a yellow card at 91’36’. One tactical foul and Roberto does not charge forward across the halfway line. Real Madrid get goal side before the free kick is taken and the game is done. This does not happen though and Roberto is into the Real Madrid half in what becomes a 6v3 at 91’37”. Note where Pique is and note that you cannot see Ronaldo at all. In fact the next time you see him is at the end of the clip complaining that others should have done more.

91’39” : Barca’s 4-3-3 utilizes width in attack and you see it here from Andre Gomes, Jordi Alba and even Ivan Rakitic to some degree. The ball to Gomes forces Carvajal to go wide and Alba, having made an amazing overlap run pulls him even further. Rakitic maintains width on the right that forces the recovering Modric to pay attention to him. Messi at this point slows as he sees Alba’s run has forced Carvajal, Kroos, and Fernandez to drop deep while Modric drifts back rather than sticking tight to him.

91’45” : If you pause here you can see the combined effect of Alba’s wide penetration and the deep runs by Pique, Suarez and Roberto. They have opened up room at the top of the box for Messi to swoop into. He holds his run until he sees the space will be there and Alba will be able to first time the ball back into it. To top it off, Suarez uses his body perfectly to ensure Fernandez will not be able to get close enough to block Messi’s shot. It’s a crucial piece of the puzzle. As the ball goes in nobody is closer to the Real Madrid goal than Pique. He started the play 18 seconds earlier a few yards from his own goal line.

You can categorize the mistakes made as felonies and misdemeanours. Here’s how I see the crimes stack up:

Real Madrid pressing so many players forward to win the ball back with 30 seconds when they are down a man and do not need to score: FELONY

Modric pinching to try to win the ball off Roberto and failing: MISDEMEANOUR

Marcelo (who had a great game otherwise) not taking Roberto down when he had a chance: FELONY

Ronaldo not chasing back: MISDEMEANOUR

Once it got beyond this point I don’t see much blame for Carvajal, Kroos and Fernandez. They were dealing with a 6v3 that incorporated Messi and Suarez. If they had denied a goal in that situation they would have deserved medals. Barca played it perfectly though and Messi lived up to his reputation as the greatest player ever to score with ten seconds remaining.

Rarely does such a high profile game end in such a spectacular manner and with a passage of play that offers us so many coaching points as coaches. You may find more. If so, feel free to mention them in the comments.

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Analyst analysis

Just sent a DM on Twitter to a group of like-minded soccer moaners and groaners. It was regarding one of the colour commentators on a Canadian broadcast of a game.

“XXXXX makes Capt Obvious look like an enigma.”

With Jason de Vos’ decision to leave TSN and take a position with the CSA, there was been a handful of suitors pushed in front of the camera in the hopes that one will bring the quality insight he was known for. The bar was raised and while it’s maybe unfair to expect the same standards of those new to the craft it’s still important that those selecting and those selected aspire to a high level of analysis rather than falling back on generic banter and passing off the obvious as expert analysis.

Current production values seem to favour candidates who were former players, have an accent relatable to the masses and/or a degree of confidence that is not aligned with their  current chops as an analyst. So far I remain underwhelmed.

Here’s a better recipe.

Take someone with a keen eye for the telling detail, with the ability to relate it economically and clearly. Viewers don’t need to be clubbed with gegenpressing details for three minutes amid a digital swirl of lines and circles on a monitor. They need relevance delivered coherently with the occasional bit of humour that oscillates between cutting and self deprecating.

Focus on specifically why goals were either created or conceded without incessant cliches. Simply regurgitating what the play by play guy has said with no embellishment beyond whiter teeth and a hipper haircut does not pass for analysis.

Yes, there will always be the realities of TV production values and the concomitant necessity of putting someone in front of the camera that can string words together smoothly while not being physically repulsive. But really it has to be both function and form and when in doubt favour the former over the latter.


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How you really keep girls playing soccer

This will rub some people the wrong way.

There’s another round, in what seems like a long series, of empowerment, ‘follow your dream’ types of programs and products coming our way. There are celebratory t-shirts for you to buy and a chance to interact with idols. This we are told will help keep girls playing soccer. This will motivate them to start playing if they aren’t already.

The Canadian women’s national team won the bronze medal at the 2012 Olympics. Vancouver hosted the CONCACAF qualifying tournament the year before.  We hosted the U20 Women’s World Cup in 2014 and the full on Women’s World Cup in 2015 with the final being here in Vancouver. We then repeated as bronze medalists at the Rio Olympics this past summer. These were all exciting events. I bought tickets for the Women’s World Cup and also went to most of the Olympic qualifying tournament games. Those five years from 2011 to now have seen a tremendous rise in interest in the Canadian Women’s National Team as well as the U20’s.

And in every one of those years since 2011, enrolment in girls’ soccer in Vancouver has gone down.

But how can that be? They have role models. They flock to see their idols play in full stadiums against the best teams in the world. They buy jerseys and go to autograph sessions.

Here’s why. There’s a huge difference between sustenance and the occasional treat. Women’s soccer events, on and off the field, are treats. They make you feel good for a short period of time and you look forward to them but they do not sustain you. Sustenance requires a steady flow of the food necessary to make you stronger and smarter. The occasional snack for someone who is otherwise getting what they need nutritionally is totally fine and can be motivating but it does not keep them going long term.

You know what keeps girls playing soccer long term, what sustains them? Their parents and their coaches.

Parents who facilitate their play by providing time, money and an emotional investment in girls soccer. Parents who find the right club by asking the right questions of the right people. They register them, get them to training and games, encourage them to keep playing through periods of doubt, buy the necessary equipment, tell them that they really enjoy watching them play and show that they value team sports and what can be learned from them. They advocate for their daughter when necessary, help breed confidence in them by telling them its okay to take some chances and have them not work out all the time. They celebrate their victories and tell them that losing a game is just something you use to learn from and that teamwork is about respecting both the strengths and weaknesses of your teammates and being able to work with both. They put the same resources into their daughters’ sports needs as they do for their sons.

Some kids need more of this support than others regardless of whether they are a girl or a boy but at some point they will need the guidance of a parent to calm doubts and keep them playing. Those moments are crucial. They have to be recognized quickly and acted upon deftly.

As parents facilitate and support, coaches engender trust and respect in the pursuit of helping players get better at the game.

All players need to trust that their coach wants the best for them and respects them as a person as well as their ability to contribute to the team’s efforts regardless of the level of play. And once that bond is established, players hope their coach is committed to be with their team long term. Coaches who take players from their first years right through to U18 are absolute gems of people. To spend ten plus years working with a group of girls, showing them that you want to be part of their soccer experience from the time they enter grade school to the time they leave it, that you enjoy it and will stick it out through years of training sessions on wet, windswept fields; that you won’t walk away from them after 7-0 losses and won’t make the experience more about your ego than their enjoyment. These are the people keep girls playing soccer. These people provide the lifeblood that keeps girls playing. To suggest that the occasional sugary treat does is insulting to so many men and women I know that have worked within an age group that starts with helping to tie their shoelaces and ends with tears and hugs when the last U18 game is played.

I have no issue with the elite level women’s players generating products that provide little hits of excitement. They are more than entitled to leverage their abilities and success on the field to pursue options that I’m sure they genuinely feel are beneficial to young players. The issue is that we need parents, primarily, but also coaches, to recognize that this does not replace the long term efforts needed of them to keep girls playing the game.

The hits keep coming but, as already stated, the numbers keep dropping. The key is to get more parents to facilitate and more coaches to commit.

Parents have to get them to the field and coaches have to keep the field engaging. It’s a symbiotic relationship between parents and coaches. They either strengthen or weaken each other. Involved, supportive parents motivate coaches. Those coaches in turn resolve to create better team environments and the result is that a higher percentage of girls keep playing.

Conversely, parents who don’t support their daughters’ soccer and who abide by or are the cause of poor attendance at training and games make it easy for coaches to lose interest and walk away. Coaches who run poor sessions and create a culture of nonchalance despite the best efforts of parents on the team also cause attrition.

Everybody likes the simple solution. Everybody wants to believe that the latest fad diet that lets them eat their favourite foods all the time is going to make them lose weight and/or be healthier overall. The quick, easy fix will always have the ear of the public with their regularly crossed fingers and willing credit cards.

Keeping girls playing soccer does not have a simple solution. How could keeping young people engaged in a pursuit from age six to eighteen not require the care and cultivation of many motivated people throughout those twelve years? It’s a long term project. It needs as much dedication and resilience from parents and coaches as we ask of the players themselves.

You want your daughter to keep playing soccer? Focus on sustaining them with what they need over many years rather than placating them with what looks good short term.

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Coaching the competitive recreational team

I’ve always bristled at the idea that teams are either elite/high performance or recreational/grassroots. I think there’s a substantial group of teams that don’t tidily fit into these two categories. I’d call them competitive recreational teams and they fit closer to elite/HP than purely grassroots.

The parameters

So what do these teams look like? What distinguishes them from the other two categories? Let’s start with this:

  • Players are not playing at the highest level available either by selection or choice
  • Generally training twice per week; sometimes three times
  • Players accommodated when it comes to playing other sports as long as soccer remains at least on par with other sport(s)
  • Liberal playing time policy, usually mandated by club but where not, the coach adopts this

In addition to being the Technical Director for a large Vancouver youth club I also coach my son’s team. They recently started the U15 season. They play at the third level of play. It’s called Gold and follows after BCSPL (BC Soccer Premier League; 8 teams in the province, six of which are in the Metro Vancouver area) and the MSL (Metro Selects League; usually 10 to 16 teams depending on the age group; all teams in Metro Vancouver). I should note that our club, despite being one of the largest is not allowed to put teams in MSL unlike almost all other clubs in Metro Vancouver. This is down to the fact our District, gatekeepers for determine how MSL will function among its clubs, has opted to put one, ostensibly, District run team in to represent it. We are in the process of challenging this and requesting to be given the option to put teams into this second tier of play. BC Soccer has stated that the only High Performance levels in the province are Whitecaps Residency programs and BCSPL. All others are grassroots.

That sets up where our club fits in and helps explain why we created a program called Gold Plus for our U11 and up Gold teams. Sometimes players don’t end up at the level they want and want to stay within touching distance of that through a program that provides extra club based support. This is what Gold Plus does. It’s perfect for the competitive recreational teams at our club.

The last things I’ll make clear are…

1. I have gone out of my way to proactively contact coaches at both MSL and BCSPL about players on my team that I think are capable of playing at those levels of play. I’m on my third kid and my 17th season coaching kids professionally. I’m over the vanity kick that sees coaches horde players to win titles at lower levels of play. Besides, it’s my professional responsibility to move players on to higher levels and I take that seriously.

2. Because I have coached professionally a long time, have played at a high level for many years before that and have a life that is thoroughly immersed in the game, my teams should do well, should win leagues and do well in Cup play. Again this is not intended as anything other than a road map to the many other coaches with similar level teams that might not have coached as long or have the background in the game I’ve been fortunate enough to have. I have motivated players, many of whom could and/or should be playing higher but choose not to. Im making no claims to being a coaching genius. I’m aware of the inherent advantages I have in terms of relative experience as a coach and relative pick of players.

The approach

Here’s what I’m trying to do with my 2002 boys.

1) Our focus

At this level you are doing well if you can count on getting a quarter turf field twice per week. If you’re lucky there’s three of you on the field at the same time and you can rotate getting a half field every third session. That is huge and should be planned for.

Last year we were that team that trained twice per week on a quarter field. About half the team (I carry 15) opted for a third Academy session through the club. Median attendance was about 12-13. The year before when we were U13 we were able to rotate through a half field with two other teams both nights we trained. As the players were new to 11 a side at U13 that and the fact that we were able to play a lot of games in the spring helped us tremendously.

Our sessions were either in 75 minute slots or 90 minute slots. Ball rolling time is paramount and a near obsession for me. I want to wring as much out of those minutes as possible. Water breaks are 30 seconds tops and they get just one, maybe two. As much as possible, sessions are planned, accounting for the space we have, to flow from one element to the next with a minimum of set up between them. As much set up as possible is done before the players start.

Here are the key aspects that we have focused on:

Initially at U13:

  • Spacing and general roles and responsibilities in a 4-3-3
  • Confidence on the ball and encouragement to maintain possession and play through opponents’ pressure as much as possible
  • Early decisions on and off the ball (recognizing situations and acting on them)
  • Quick ball movement

Then on top of that at U14:

  • Adaptability to other formations
  • Breaking lines with passes (in all thirds)
  • Deception in passing
  • More sophisticated movement in attacking third

Now at U15:

  • Engaging training sessions that create game-like scenarios via SSG’s
  • Creating a strong team identity
  • Giving them the confidence to dictate how games are played

Playing out from the back as a first option is so heavily engrained in them that when we were playing a Coastal Cup quarter final game against one of the top MSL teams and protecting a 1-0 lead with ten men (we need to work on the coach’s son avoiding stupid red cards) our CB’s were still splitting wide and our keeper was throwing to them despite a four to five man press at the top of our box. I won’t lie. I told him to “mix it up” after a few of those (while wildly gesticulating to pump it over their press). We ended up winning 2-0 but in retrospect it was a defining moment for them. Despite playing against one of the better teams from a league above them they showed the composure in a difficult situation to play through pressure. Lumping the ball down the field had become such a foreign concept to them that it didn’t dawn on them to fall back on it.

Players who had been with me in the past had already been subjected to my thoughts on teaching positional play (link) and I had purposefully favoured intelligent players over physical players as I knew I would be expecting them to develop confidence in possession and that comes primarily from soccer specific intelligence, even before technique. We have players that still, mainly through physical growth issues, have a touch that would suggest they play down a level, yet are very effective on a team that has the won the league both the years they’ve played 11 a side because they have an understanding of the game that is beyond the average player they play against both at their own level and when they play MSL teams in tournaments and Cup play.

2) Fitness (is a waste of time)

Literally. I had my players in training for 2.5 hrs per week last season. Dedicating time to fitness exercises without a ball is counter-productive. If I felt it was important to improve them substantially in terms of aerobic fitness, I’d really need to commit at least 20 minutes of each practice to that. A bit less for anaerobic but it would still be a chunk of time given the rest periods between work. My experience is that it’s a waste of time.

These players have never run a lap under my watch. They’ve never done doggies/suicides/shuttles. There’s no time or need for that at this level. They get their fitness, game fitness, from the small sided games and the insistence that the tempo stays high with few breaks. When we play SSG’s, there are always balls within easy reach. My asst coach and I fetch them if necessary so the players can keep playing. We keep spares in our hands and throw them in to keep play moving. Again, we carried fifteen players both seasons. We played many games with one or two subs. We won the league by 19 points in a 16 game season. That may suggest we are clearly at the wrong level but the reality is that we only won three games by more than one goal. We lost one and tied one. The games were competitive but we consistently rallied and/or hung on to get wins and out of shape teams don’t do that.

That 20 minutes spent playing 3v3 with a two touch restriction is giving them similar fitness plus touches on the ball, combination play, physical strength from 50-50 balls and shielding and hundreds, not exaggerating, hundreds of opportunities to sense, calculate, consider, decide and act.

3) Very little time on set pieces

Almost all work on set pieces was based on playing out from the back on goal kicks. Next was short corners. Direct free kicks were either direct shots at goal or keeping possession with a short pass if we were out of shooting range. Wide free kicks were played in for headers (which very rarely materialized).

I’d guess two thirds of our corners were played short. We scored three times last season off of short corners. We didn’t score once on long corners.

Direct free kick don’t need much in the way of contrivances. The keepers at these ages are still very small relative to the full size goals they protect. Identify players who can strike a ball well, know their range and have them hit for goal when they’re within that range. Nothing fancy.

4) Don’t create divisions

I touched on this in another thing I wrote here. I don’t pick team captains and I don’t pick MVP’s after games or after the season. They’re peers. They’re teammates. They’re teenagers. It’s hard enough being a teenager these days. They don’t need a hierarchy imposed on them by adults to maintain a competitive edge in training. They don’t need an adult telling them one or two are special and are the ‘captain’;  particularly when it’s really just a ceremonial title and serves little function. It just serves to divide and categorize them. Even if you let the players pick the captain themselves. I  italicized let because you’re actually telling them they have to vote for a captain. They are not choosing to do so and by turn you are forcing them to pick some over others and create the division between them themselves.

5) Check in with them

They’re playing at a competitive recreational level but it doesn’t mean that’s what will always work for them. Some of them may be ready to try to make an elite level teams. Some may want to drop down to more grassroots level. Your job is to discuss this with them and their parents and, if a move up or down is plausible, to try to facilitate it. We don’t own players. They are not chattel. We coach to serve them and their needs.

6) Miscellaneous

  • Nothing in training should involve standing in a line for more than ten seconds. This follows on the idea of treating training time as being very important and maximizing what you can get done in that done.
  • Keep your phone in your pocket. You want them to focus? You have to set the example if you want buy in.
  • FIFA 11+. I’ve been doing it as an injury prevention warmup for the last 7-8 years. I have found it really effective and I have insisted that our U11 to U18 teams at our club do it as well. You never know, with certainty, in the end what factor is responsible for injuries occurring or not occurring but I definitely feel this has been a contributing factor to very low injury rates on my teams. I don’t have them do any stretching unless they have been told to do so by a physio to aid recovery from an injury.
  • Small Sided Games (SSG). There is nothing that will get you as much bang for your buck as well chosen, conditioned SSG’s that bring out the elements of play that you are targeting. At U13 and up, learning principles of play, positional roles and responsibilities, fitness, tactical awareness and technical refinement can all be done most effectively and organically through SSG’s. Possession games fall into this category as far as I’m concerned even though most aren’t necessarily directional (ie attacking a goal, defending another goal).
  • Be demanding. Tell them the truth. Both the good and bad. It’s far more important that your players trust you rather than they are your pals. They need to know you are on their side when it comes to helping them improve as a player. When they see that your critiques are honest but delivered empathetically, they will concomitantly take praise to hear more rather than seeing it as just meaningless platitudes. I had a parent tell me the players were tired of a coach who relentlessly praised everything the kids regardless of whether it was right, wrong, good or bad ‘to boost their confidence’. They just ended up tuning him out. They were old enough that it just felt patronizing after awhile.
  • Have a session plan. On paper and on you during practice. Have variations you can quickly go to if you end up with fewer players than you were expecting (sadly more common than ending up with more players than you were expecting). Make quick notes on how to improve or add to what you’re doing based on how its going. Being adaptable is necessary at this level. Your commitment level isn’t as high as it is for elite level teams so you need to be able to adjust if the numbers don’t match what you need for your plan.


If you’re coaching a competitive recreational team you probably have multi sport athletes that see soccer as either one of two or three priorities or that its a secondary priority for them. Your job is to respect this and try to make it work for the individual while they have to respect that they are part of a team. Issues around commitment are most common manifested around playing time. This is where I find a smaller squad is handy. Finding appropriate playing time for those that are at every practice is much easier. If you’re operating within club policies on playing time (ours is half a game minimum every game in the absence of discipline problems and unexplained absences from training) then its much easier to do this with fewer players. With 15 on the squad, I average 13-14 each game. Two to three subs is very manageable. I generally just roll them through every 15 minutes or so. It lets me keep some players on the whole game if necessary while ensuring everyone else is getting two thirds to three quarters of the game. And when you do end up playing the odd game, or half a game if some get injured during a game, its not a big deal for 11 of them to play the whole game with no subs. They’re already close to doing that .

If you’re aware of the environment you’re coaching in and attuned to what’s realistic for your players you will win the battle to keep them playing. If your training sessions are appropriate for the age and level, progressive in terms of equipping them with confidence and ability  you will win the majority of the battles on the field. Note that they are related. If you can retain players who have been following a plan you have laid out you will have success on the field and that success will tie the players to the team and also help reduce attrition.

Get them to U18 and if they’re confident, capable players who want to continue into adult soccer,  pat yourself on the back. You’ve done a good job.

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The Euro…avec famille

This is way longer than it should be. I did a TL;DR (Too long, didn’t read) summary at the bottom

  • The cast: Myself, my wife (aka L), my 20 year old daughter (C) and 14 year old son (T)
  • The locations: Marseille, Port Grimaud, Nice, Lyon, Saint Etienne, Aix-en-Provence and a few other spots in Provence.



Only been on the plane an hour when the iPad scrabble came out and I came out guns a blazing with this beauty

We leave Vancouver on the Friday night and are overnight into London before connecting to Marseille. We’re supposed to arrive three hours before the England v Russia game that we have tickets for. We’re also meeting our daughter who’s been away for six months studying in Lyon and then travelling the past seven weeks with friends around Europe. One of her parting remarks to me was, “You’re getting fat. Seriously, you better lose some weight and get in better shape.” Nice kid. The plane arrives an hour late and for the first time ever in the 200+ flights I’ve been on, our luggage has been lost by BA. Another delay.

After a quick bus/metro combo from the airport, we emerge within 5oom of the stadium to a throng of people hawking tickets for the game. Dozens of them. The crowds along Avenue du Prado leading to the Stade Velodrome are a mix of tense people trying to navigate through to the stadium and bellicose drunks both Russian and English. I recall telling L that the safest place to be would be inside the stadium as the security will be stifling. I’d resolved that I would quietly ensure that we avoided crowds and minimized time in airports and train stations. You find yourself in helter skelter crowds heading to games though and you realize whatever plans you have do not jibe well with reality on the ground and you just go with the flow.

We’d fortunately found a place to stay for that night in a hotel that was all but touching the stadium. Couldn’t have been closer so after our brief, joyous reunion with C where it was clear that the 25lbs I had lost since last seeing her had somehow found its way onto her in the form on Pain de Raison, croissants, souvlaki and booze. I couldn’t help but laugh.

Security was as expected but still not quite as overwhelming in terms of its presence as the World Cup in Brazil was. Ill say this though. The police and military that were working….were working. They were focused on their job and taking it very seriously. Into the stadium 45 minutes before kick off and England fans are everywhere. We have great seats 20 yards from the touchline and 11 rows up. The designated area in one end zone for the Russian fans is full as is England’s but the English have got at least two thirds of all the other seats in the stadium and dominate by colour and volume. It really is something to see England play in international tournaments. Especially in their first game when there’s still all that unwarranted optimism competing with alcohol in the bloodstream of the hordes from Albion, Hull, Croydon, etc.


ENG v RUS; just before kickoff and 90 minutes before it really kicked off in the stadium.

We had a great view of Dier’s goal for England.

We were very fortunate to be at the other end of the stadium post-game when Russian ‘fans’ charged into what was ostensibly an area for neutrals but had a large percentage of England fans. This was nasty and flew in the face of my repeated statements to L that the stadiums themselves would be safe and secure. I kept repeating “I’ve never seen this happen at a game I’ve been at.” What you can’t quite see in the video below is that as people were rushing to the right to escape Russians there was a high retaining wall and while it was possible to get over people were getting crushed against it for a minute or so before security got ahold of the situation. In the end, from a ‘my family’ point of view,the only thing that took a hit was my credibility.

Planning this trip had been an exercise in negotiating various agenda. My wife’s interest in soccer approaches zero if her kid isn’t playing but she stuck on a smile and joined in on the “Allez les Bleues” chants. She was tolerating the games as interruptions to the various Provence excursions she had planned but definitely came away glad to have experienced them. I’m still not sure if her repeatedly calling it the ‘World Cup’ was a passive aggressive piss take or not. She actually copped to briefly falling asleep, standing up, at the England-Russia game. Jet lag? I have my doubts.

T’s agenda was simple. See as many games as possible and return home with a pair of the newly released Nike Hypervenoms that he was sure wouldn’t arrive in Canada for another six months. I’d researched likely places we could buy them and really wanted it out of the way early so it didn’t become a source of tension. This is a kid who knows which players wear which boots, when they’re released and what the YouTube reviews for all new boots say. He knew exactly what boot he wanted and was fine with the fact that getting them would mean stacking what I’d normally spend on boots for him on top of the full weight of what would generally be spent on his birthday present.

So while L & C had a sleep in after the England v Russia game we were up early to get into Marseille to go to JD Sports. Plan was to take the Metro, get the boots, pick up the rental car on the way back, pick up L & C and then head out of Marseille. I looked up the JD Sports map for their Marseille store and we headed off. For some hilarious reason, the map shows the location as being 5km from where it actually is.


Hypervenom Pursuit Fail #1

We asked four or five locals where it was when we were standing right where the map showed and they couldn’t figure it out. We sought wi-fi and eventually figured out the problem. A short metro ride later we triumphantly arrived to find that it was closed on Sundays despite the website saying it would be open.

Fortunately, picking up the car rental was smooth. I was worried that two speeding tickets I picked up in Portugal and Spain in 2011 (both sent to me in Vancouver by registered mail; both ignored) might pop up on the Europcar computer as I used them back then as well. Nope. Got a spanking new Renault Kadjar SUV and was feeling pretty stoked as T and I got in. Then I remembered it was manual and the last time I’d driven anything but automatic was that time in Europe five years previous. Naturally, my re-introduction to 5 speed transmissions was a quick right across the sidewalk from where it was parked followed by an immediate left onto Marseille’s busiest road. We were twenty seconds and two lurches into the trip before T pronounced, “We’re totally gonna die.”

I’m pleased to say that in the course of driving that car about 1200km, I only stalled once and disappointed my family many times in the process of not stalling and lurching far more than that thus negating their opportunity to ridicule me.

Our base for the next week was Port Grimaud near St Tropez. You’ve heard of St Tropez but likely not Port Grimaud or the neighbouring town of Grimaud. Simply put, don’t go to St Tropez unless you have an obsession with high end brand boutique stores, staring slack jawed at $50m yachts and/or a desire to bump into Russian oligarchs while sipping your $6 bottle of Coke.

Instead go to Grimaud and Port Grimaud. So much less crowded and other worldly. You still get a beautiful beach and I’ll take the town of Grimaud in terms of beauty over St Tropez every time.

We were hooked up with AM Sport Tours through local soccer mastermind, Chris Murphy, for accommodation in Port Grimaud. They had teams coming through two weeks at a time for all inclusive trips during the Euro that included playing games, seeing Euro games as well as accommodation, meals and transport. These guys totally know what they’re doing and the place in Port Grimaud was a perfect choice. We were very happy to glom on for the accommodation side of things.

Left: C & L at the beach in Port Grimaud. Top right: Us at the castle in Grimaud. Bottom right:  From the electric boat you can inexpensively rent to tour the canals at Port Grimaud and where L’s hat flew off her head and into the water just as we were docking causing considerable screaming and panicking as she tried to back the boat up to get it only to see a larger tour boat run right over it, sinking it pronto. 

Port Grimaud was a great place to relax and have some beach time but the reality was that we had a packed itinerary and we were on the road a lot. First on the list was a day trip to Iles d’Hyeres. Short, fast ferry took you from the mainland to laid back island with travel brochure water.


IMG_2978Beach at Iles d’Hyeres

Great afternoon then back to the car. France, by the way, has a parking lot system I haven’t seen before. Get your ticket when you come in then put it in the slot as you leave. Machine tell you what you owe and you put your credit card in the same slot to pay. Gate rises and you’re gone. All done in ten seconds. No attendant. First time I saw this was where we parked to go to Iles d’Hyeres I was so impressed it overwhelmed my urge to vomit at how much I’d just paid to park.

So now it was time for our second game: France v Albania back at the Stade Velodrome in Marseille. When I got the tickets in the mail and saw we’d be in Row 72 I was worried about us falling off the back of the stadium. No need to be concerned. There were at least another 25 rows behind. Cool perspective too if you’re a coach. We were almost on the halfway line. T’s second demand after getting me to buy him the ugliest, most expensive boots on the planet was to ensure that we got to the stadium at least an hour before kick off. Bad weather worked to T’s favour on this day as a plan to visit Cassis and then hike the famous calanques around there was abridged to just Cassis leaving more pre-game time. It also meant we’d have more time to get to JD Sports again before it closed.

The Albanians were in full throttle party mode in the port area of Marseille. Where the English and Russian supporters had staged full on battles four days previous the scene was now French and Albanians together trying to out sing each other.

Hung around for a bit there and then off to the (open!) JD Sports who had a DJ playing at the front door and freestylers doing their thing on the pedestrian mall out front. Awesome! Where’s your boots? “We only sell football boots online. Not in the store.”  To offset the sting of not getting the boots, again, we went by an Olympic Marseille store and picked up a ball (T gets the equivalent of the DT’s if he has to go more than a few days without a ball at his feet). Cool looking OM ball and picked up an even cooler t-shirt for myself.

Top: My Bielsa t-shirt. Guy at the France v Albania game in front of us rocking no less than three cameras. Middle: View of France v Albania from row 72. Bottom: 90 minutes before kick off and there’s already about 12-15000 Albania fans in the stadium. T and the OM ball that would last less than 24 hours. Yes, that’s a CANmnt hoodie.

Got to see late, quality goals by Griezmann and Payet and then it was back to the car. My fingers were quietly crossed as we made our way back (by the way, full kudos to the French for the efficient way they got crowds in and out of the stadium and on their way; 68 000 at this game and we waited maybe 10 minutes to get on a Metro). After we’d bought the ball and t-shirt, T and I walked back to the huge parkade we’d parked in nearby. On our way in, we heard an Albanian family, gathered at the intercom, loudly telling whoever was at the other end that their car had been broken into and all their stuff had been taken. Naturally this was the one day I’d had to bring my laptop with me as C was scheduled to register for her courses at UBC after the game and couldn’t miss her time slot. Crossed my fingers and told T to just keep that to ourselves so we could just enjoy the game.

By the way it was truly a Jetsons moment on the drive home. Zooming down the excellent French highways while my daughters iPhone streamed songs on Apple Music via Bluetooth through the car speakers while she simultaneously used her hot spot to connect my laptop to the UBC course registration page. I reminded everyone that when I did my big round the world back packing trip, I had to send a telegram when we got to Nepal as it was the only way to communicate with our families back home. Meanwhile C paid just 20 Euros/ month for her French phone package and got unlimited calling and texting (including to Canada) and 50GB of data.

Highlight of the next day was kicking around our new Olympique Marseille ball. Smiles all around until I tried to chip it over a stout palm tree and it got stuck 20 feet up. No problem. We found some rocks and pelted it until it looked like it had to fall. I knew there may be a problem when it clearly looked an ornament hanging from a Christmas tree. It was defying gravity. One more solid hit with a rock and it fell to the grass. Totally deflated. A very sharp palm frond had pierced it as if a very large hypodermic had been jammed into it. Done. T made it clear I owed him a new ball.

Writing about going to Nice is difficult now given the light tone of this and how it just doesn’t fit at all with the tragic attack on innocent people celebrating Bastille Day on the very road we drove along.  I’d worried, like most, about some sort of attack while we were there and L’s sisters were none too pleased about us going but we talked about it and came to the conclusion that the odds were very low, that we would take precautions to avoid crowds and that, in the end, you just can’t live your life hiding under a rock waiting for doom to descend on your life.

Spain v Turkey was the only game that I wasn’t able to get via directly so I went through Louie, a local ticket broker who worked all the high profile events world wide. We got one of our Brazil World Cup games through him so I knew the deal. 50% deposit up front and then the rest in Nice where he would give me the tickets. Unfortunately, one of the first texts I got when we arrived was from my friend Dale who let me know that Louie had been tossed in jail for selling tickets at the France v Romania opener the night before. I had no idea how that was going to affect getting the tickets but it got sorted out in time and one of Louie’s associates got the tickets to us when we got to Nice. That ended up being the lesser of our logistical challenges for that game.

After a fruitless third and fourth attempt to get T’s Hypervenoms at stores in Nice, we touristed about Nice and then met up with Dale and his family to watch the rest of the Italy v Sweden game. We had a vague plan for a fifth quest for the new boots but I’d got a taste of Nice traffic on the way in and decided it was best to just give us lots of time to get to the stadium as it meant getting from the waterfront up to the north east of the city. Only 10km away and the stadium only held 35000 but better safe than sorry. We left at 6pm. The pain began at 6:10pm once we got off Promenade des Anglaises. Our parkade exited to it and it had been closed to traffic in advance of the game in anticipation of crowds coming down to the fan zone area to watch the game. Once off our private road we hit the very definition of gridlock. If I’d known how bad it was going to be from there on in, I’d have parked the car and walked the 10km. There were 20 minute stretches where we moved two car lengths. It seemed our strategy to head a bit east and then north to the highway before going west to the stadium to avoid cutting through the central part of the city was not my most original  thought. While it lightened up once we got to the highway it was still two hours plus before the stadium came into view. Now picture cars arriving from various directions and all trying to park. Europe doesn’t do stadium parking the way most North American cities do. In the end I had to go tap into my inner action movie star and pull out of the crawling traffic being heavily guided by police and take advantage of the SUV’s high clearance to muscle up onto a sidewalk taking a hard right between people walking to the stadium through a just wide enough pedestrian entry to a small gravel parking lot that seemed to be for staff or VIP’s as its regular entrance was closed off and patrolled. At this point I had no idea if there was any space to even park but we found literally the only real estate big enough to fit in and then to our joy, realized we were just 400m from the stadium entrance.

There must have been anywhere between 4-8 police who saw all this but they were not concerned. The traffic cops were in ‘no harm, no foul’ mode and the security cops had bigger fish to fry.

Got to the stadium with 30-40 minutes to spare. Even had time to pick up something from the souvenir stand. Patiently waited behind a Turkish guy with his son who was impatiently waiting for an older guy who was clearly trying to re-enact a Monty Python skit with his purchase. He took at least ten minutes from the time I joined the line and the Turkish guy accelerated from fuming to full on yelling, “This is not normal! You have been here 30 minutes! This is not normal!”  So now a manager comes over to calm him down. As they start talking, Michael Palin shuffles off after changing his order eight times and having two credit cards not work. I seize the space at the counter, “Large Spain shirt, please.” and hand over exact change. Out of their in seconds while the Turkish guy is still being told he’ll have to calm down or they won’t serve him.

Left: The Nice waterfront. Right: T and I playing soccer table tennis in the fan zone on the Promenade des Anglaises and action from the Spain v Turkey game.

Got to watch the Spain game in the Spanish supporters section behind the goal which was pretty cool. Got a text from another friend, Fred, once the game had started, asking if we’d made it in. I knew he was going to this game too. I let him know we’d made it. He let me know he was still on the highway, moving at a crawl. I felt terrible for him. In the end they made it in before half time and he had to pull his own version of ‘how to creatively park you car’.

Two days later, as scheduled, we met up with Fred and his family at the 17th century farmhouse they had rented in Aix-en-Provence. Set on four acres with a gorgeous swimming pool it gave us a nice change of pace and a chance for the kids to hang out, kick a ball around (yes, I bought a T a replacement ball in Nice) and pretty much wander about agog knowing we were in a house that was built the same year the first white man laid eyes on Lake Erie. 

It was everything you want in a stay in Provence. I pictured two idyllic days watching games on TV, drinking local wine, lounging around the pool and having some laughs. Then someone with a seriously maladjusted sense of adventure and/or humour suggested we all ‘hike’ Montagne Sainte Victoire. See in the pictures below how happy we are as we start? That was the only picture where we look like that. Naturally we started the festivities around 3pm to take advantage of the full brunt of the summer sun. It was nearly 30 degrees celsius and your best chance of shade was to hope some kind of flying insect shadowed you as you went up.

Take the Grouse Grind, double the length, remove any and all semblance of shade, add long patches of scrabbly rock and then mock people with signs that tell you you’ve gone the ‘easy’ (facile) route. That’s the approach trail makers took here. We bumped into a group of Americans who had tried the ‘difficile’ route and turned back. “There was ropes and shit. Part of it you had to free climb.” Thanks for the comprehensive warning sign, mes amis!

I moan and wish I could say I jest but it was really, really hard. Nine of us set out. L, C, Fred’s wife and youngest turned back about halfway through due to a combination of heat, lack of water and common sense. Fred, who had summited before on a previous trip, then back tracked to make sure they got back to the bottom all right. That left me, T and Fred’s two eldest sons, aged 14 and 17.

None of us had enough water and their ages combined were still 5 years shy of mine. I powered through using mumbled obscenities as fuel. The summit is marked by a huge concrete and steel cross. Upon reaching it, my attitude changed entirely and we took pictures of what is now clearly my favourite non-soccer memory of the trip.

Top left: Nine enthusiastic, smiling people near the base. Top right: Two signs. One understated, one underestimating.  Essentially two lies. Bottom (L-R). At the summit. Don’t care what your sign says. The boys heading back down. Para-sailers mocking our efforts with their grace.

What saved us in the end was the well located within the deserted chapel 200m from the top. The sign said the water wasn’t drinkable but we saw a French guy drinking it and asked him if it was safe. He shrugged and gave it the old, “Je ne sais pas mais c’est froid!” That was enough for us. After about a litre each of cold, not entirely clear water we had enough to clear and cool our heads and happily make our way down. Ordered loads of pizza on the way back. As per French custom in the region, it came with a free bottle of rosé wine.

Clockwise from top left: Pool chez Fred in Aix-en-Provence, the house Fred’s family had while there, the massive-est fireplace you’ve ever seen, fantastic vinyl vendor at the outdoor Monday market in Aix-en-P, me and L in Aix-en-P (with replacement hat).

Our time in Aix-en-Provence wrapped up at what Fred’s wife said was the best public market in Provence. They were previously in Aix for a year so she knew and was right. L & C went early with her while Fred and I joined later on. It was great weather and it really was impressive. Could’ve gone nuts at the vinyl vendor’s stall but that stuff doesn’t pack well.

I’d booked every night’s accommodation before we left except for the one following Aix-en-P as I’d wanted to keep open the option of getting Sweden v Belgium tickets and selling our Portugal v Hungary ones in Lyon. The price never wavered on the SWE v BEL game though and there was no market for selling my POR v HUN ones so we opted to head north a bit, find a place to stay in the Vaucluse region at the north end of Provence and then get to Lyon the day after in time to see our game. I was left to book a place with instructions from L to get something nice with a pool. I almost cheaped out and got a room at an Ibis by the highway but instead we got a place as close to what we’d enjoyed chez Fred as was possible. Seriously, if you want an authentic Provence experience try to spend a day or two at Hotel L’Hermitage just north of Pernes Les Fontaines. The rooms are decent enough but the grounds and the setting for breakfast are what make it special.

Hotel  l’Hermitage; clockwise from top left: Breakfast outside, beers by the pool, the view of the hotel grounds we woke up to from our window in the morning, hotel patio.

We were into the final days now. A quick sprint up to Lyon, check in at a blah business hotel halfway between downtown and the stadium (Lyon’s new stadium looks great but is way out in the sticks and not serviced by the Metro). This was where C had spent the winter semester studying here as part of UBC’s Go Global program and had really enjoyed her time here. She wanted to show us around and we were happy to have a knowledgeable guide with rock solid French. She’d already seen the Olympique Lyonnaise v Olympique Marseille game there, the second ever league game played there so the stadium wasn’t new to her.

Portugal v Hungary was a game I picked up in the UEFA lottery before the draw. Having seen Portugal twice in the World Cup I wasn’t too jazzed and had been hoping to dump the tickets and get in to see Zlatan against Belgium but it wasn’t to be. Our expectations were low and we’d already seen three really entertaining games so we were probably due a dud.

In qualifying, Portugal managed to score 11 goals in their 8 games. That got them first place and automatic qualification while Hungary’s 11 goals in 10 games meant they had to go through a back door home and away with Norway. So, no, we didn’t see a 3-3 thriller coming. It stagnated a bit when Austria tied it up against Iceland in the group’s other tilt. Portugal realized the 3-3 draw would carry them through to the second round and Hungary realized it would win them the group. But what a first 65 minutes. Every game had seen great support for both teams but this one brought out the noise from both sets of fans more than any other. Those that say going to a 24 team tournament bloated it and the minnows diminished the quality really needed to be in the stadium to see the excitement that we saw from Albanian and Hungarian fans and how bringing four of six third place teams into the second round made every final round robin game meaningful.

C had advised us to get a place in Presqu’île so our last three days were there and it really was the place to be. Beautiful downtown area. Huge chunks in and around Lyon have been declared UNESCO Heritage sites including all of Presqu’île. Many refer to it as a more liveable version of Paris and I’d find it hard to argue against that. It’s also considered the culinary capital of Lyon, as C’s new circumference can attest to. Yes, if you get a chance to go to France you really have to see Paris at some point but get down to Lyon if you can. It’s excellent. Nice has the ocean and a great little area in behind but if I was going back, Lyon’s the first city I’d return to.

Once we were into our new digs in Presqu’île we had business to attend to. We were in our last major city and still had Hypervenoms to find. SO Foot looked like our best chance and it was less than a ten minute walk from the hotel. The four of us set off. Again, you have to appreciate that T’s favourite landmark in London was The Boot Room. In Barcelona, after the Camp Nou, it was FutbolMania. This is not at all an exaggeration. For this trip, when pressed, it’s quite likely that his favourite landmark in all of France may be SO Foot.

 Top: finally! Middle: Boots in the bag. Trip is officially a success. Bottom: not staged.

It was a pretty great store for fanatics like us. Not only did they have all the stuff you’d expect, they had more French national team kit than anyone else and large sales racks for adidas (50% off), Nike and Puma (40% off each). I almost bought some French sweat pants that would have cost more than any pair of dress pants I’ve ever owned. C agreed they were top notch but I didn’t pull the trigger.

Our last game was the second rounder between Poland and the Swiss. While we’d been hoping France and Germany would stumble in their round robin games and come second so we’d get to see them play, the odds were always low and being fresh off the surprise six goal thriller we happily hopped on the train from Lyon to Saint Etienne and figured anything could happen.

Of course what did happen was the goal of the tournament. Shaqiri’s acrobatic side volley to tie it up happened almost right in front of us. We were thirty yards out and 13 rows up both on the side and end that he struck it from. It was a perfect end to the five games for us.

I caught the fan reaction right after the goal including T’s stunned face.

Clockwise from top left: Ticket to the Sociology of Football exhibit at a museum in Lyon, beers in Old Lyon with freiends, action from Switzerland v Poland, just a couple of Poland fans sitting behind us in Saint Etienne…

So post-game we made our way back by Metro and train, grabbed a quick dinner and set about packing for the trip home. The last of the Irish fans were making their way to Lyon as well ahead of their second round game against France the next day. You were more likely to hear the Irish fans before you saw them. They were there for a good time and given they were up against the French probably knew it wasn’t going to be for a long time. We were in the heart of the bars and restaurants of Presqu’île and despite being eight floors up the noise from the fans below boomed up towards us. We had to be up before 6am to get on our way to the airport to catch our flight so we passed on going down and joining what were awesome festivities. I almost jumped out of bed around 1am when I heard what sounded like every French and Irish fan down below joining in on a extended version of the Yaya/Kolo Toure song but figured by the time I got dressed and got down it would be over.

Here’s a quick video shot from our room of the French singing their national anthem to give you some idea of what it was like.

And that was it. A very long layover in Heathrow let us catch most of the Ireland v France game and even the first bit of the Germany v Slovakia match. Then it was homeward bound. In tact, smiles on our faces and very fortunate to have seen five entertaining games and had some great day trips. To tie in with being to spend time with friends over there made it even more memorable. Unlikely a trip like this will happen again for us unless of course Canada qualify for the 2018 World Cup.

Two days later T discovered that his boots were available at Sport Chek…

All pictures and video copyright Gregor Young


TL;DR version


  • Go to Provence with your family. It’s a pretty easy trip and the people are hospitable
  • Buy tickets for games and not worry if it’s two teams you’re not excited to see
  • Stay at Hotel l’Hermitage in Pernes des Fontaines
  • Go to Lyon and stay in Presqu’île
  • Leave for the stadium three hours early for big games in Nice
  • Climb Montagne Sainte Victoire



  • Go to St Tropez
  • Expect to find good beer anywhere in France
  • Believe that violence never happens inside the stadium anymore
  • Kick soccer balls into palm trees
  • Pay attention to how much you’re paying for parking and road tolls
  • Climb Montagne Sainte Victoire




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