“Come on son, give me a decent pass.”
“Shut up dad, it’s not my fault.”
“Speak to me like that again and we’re going
home.”
Welcome to father and son football, Bavarian-style – where
expert coaches put British guests through their paces and the fear
of losing to the Germans (again) means you’re quite prepared
to kick your offspring all over the pitch if that’s what it
takes to win.
Germany plays host to next year’s FIFA World Cup and, in
an effort to capitalise on the outbreak of football fever the event
is bound to inspire, the German National Tourist Office is
promoting the destination as the ideal place to learn new
skills.
Unfortunately, FIFA has given 40% of tickets to sponsors and
held on to the rest so there are none available for tour operators
to package up and sell via the trade.
But the tourist office is hoping interest in the competition
will give the type of boost to tourism typically associated with
hosting the Olympic Games. Agents can cash in with families keen to
hone their skills against the stunning backdrop of the Bavarian
mountains.
As well as the parent and child coaching option, there are
kids-only programmes where parents drop their budding Beckhams off
in the morning, leaving the day free for traditional Bavarian
activities – like drinking beer for breakfast.
Our training session took place near Lake Chiemsee, in the
Chiemgau region, about an hour’s drive from Munich. After
some warm-up exercises, we were told to get into pairs and despite
my best efforts to team up with the Swiss kid juggling the ball on
one knee, I was instructed to play with my own son instead.
Now my boy is many things I’m not – artistic,
sensitive, tall – but one thing we do have in common is a
determination not to show ourselves up in public. So his horror at
practising his skills in front of the rest of the group was matched
only by mine at having to watch.
As the coach explained the five exercises we were to complete
were open to girls as well as boys – I began to wish
I’d read the invitation more closely. My four-year-old
daughter would’ve loved the competition, but if you call your
son Donovan you can’t really complain when he turns out to be
a bit of a hippy.
“Calm down Dad, it’s only a game,” he reminded me as I
barked instructions from the sidelines. Easy for him to say, but I
was the one keeping score and I knew we were lagging behind the
others after round one – which involved dribbling the ball
between cones while your dad shouts at you.
We didn’t fare much better at juggling, passing and
penalties and as we handed in our scorecard I prayed I wasn’t
the only dad tearing his hair out at the inability of his offspring
to master the basics of ball control.
In the match that followed, I managed to salvage some pride by
scoring two goals, cheered on by my watching son. Never mind that
the goalkeeper was only seven years old – my boy was proud
and we’d beaten the Germans 2-1. Life was sweet again.
Unfortunately, anyone who follows the fortunes of the England
team will know there’s always a sting in the tail and it came
at the presentation ceremony later that night. After presenting the
three best teams with awards, the coach said something in German
which caused loud guffawing among the locals. An embarrassed
translator explained the coaches’ aim was to help players
improve so they were giving a ‘special’ prize to the
team deemed most in need of their help.
Step forward ‘team Lane’ to receive a complimentary
football amid ironic cheers from my journalist peers.
I knew I should’ve packed my ‘Germany 1 England
5’ t-shirt.
