Wilderspool Causeway

If you research ‘Punctuality in Merseyside’, you will discover a range of factors which occasionally prevent Liverpudlians, Bebingtonians and other Merseysiders from arriving at their destination in a timely fashion; these include ‘poor road layout’, ‘slow crew changeovers’ and ‘problems avoided for years.’

If you’re Bootle bound, there are so many variables – swing bridges, the hypermarket on Wilderspool Causeway, the knock-on effect of commercial shipping – that you would be well advised to cut down on the variables in your own life in order to mitigate the impact of the unpredictable external world.

‘When we get out of the car, it’s going to feel rushed and a bit stressful; but I just want you to know that I’m not angry with you.’ I had adopted a new motivational strategy with Evan: a non-interventionist one. No more advice, instructions, background tension. Minimal human interference would clutter the emerging mind. He could set the agenda for topics of conversation, and have my full attention: thus questions like ‘What’s your favourite type of owl?’ (barn) from Evan replaced the usual ‘Why can’t you just get your effing shoes on?’ subtext from me. So we arrived at the ground much later than normal, and in a calm rush.

The Berkshire Youth Development League official was waiting in reception like a hospitable brazier. He had graduated magna cum laude with a degree in Genially Lingering in Foyers from Binfield Tertiary Learning Centre and was now studying for a distance learning masters in Lobby Clogging from the Niger State College of Freshwater Fisheries (look it up.) He did a fantastically obstructive job: wanting to converse, wanting to gesture, wanting to show us a timetable.

Didn’t he realise we were dropping out of language? This new rule extended to the touchline. I would stay quiet, offering no instruction whatsoever, and only the most generalised and non-judgmental of encouragements. It will all blow up at some stage, I’m sure. But for now, the result of Evan not having to take on board too many good ideas was what the good ideas were designed to provoke in the first place: happiness and freedom on the pitch (he was drugged up on asthma meds too, of course, which might have been the real liberation).

For the first time in a few weeks, he played with a smile on his face; he was vocal with others and began to take a leading role. From a deep position, he threaded balls all over the pitch, elegantly exposing gaps in their defence with a series of well-timed passes. He set up the first goal, skilfully taking the ball past a defender before nudging it across the goal. When he was removed from the fray after 10 minutes, the score was 2-0.

Problems arose – regarding the scoreline rather than overall development – because the team are managed by spreadsheet. I could tell you the minute at which Evan will be substituted next week. A tactical change has never been made, apart from when Andrew and I took charge for a game, dispensed with the spreadsheet and promptly lost 20-1. The coaches equip the players with a repertoire of skills and approaches which sometimes border on the eccentric. Amelia has clattered into the fence while imitating Maradona circa 1986 on more occasions than she’s played a simple pass.

It can be astounding. Ciara won the skills wristband by successfully executing a ‘double touch’, whereby you stand on the ball with one foot before kicking it away in the next instant with the other, retaining control of the ball so as to fool the opponent as to your speed and direction. These skills are remote islands of inconsequential elegance; Coach Michael is firm in his conviction that if you make the difficult skills second nature, you can learn the basics later. He’s seen it happen.

As to whether it would be a better plan to change the tactics during the game, well George Whitefield would call that an ‘argument from Tiverton’: hypothetical and therefore of little weight. Despite the second half capitulation, the coaching has opened up immediate choices and possibilities for the players. It’s never prescriptive and it’s never designed to cause the players to win a game for the sake of it; Peter is pleased when Connor scores, but would more pleased if he lifted up his head and passed, or if he made a mistake and was able to identify what it was.