Chapter 7
If I were an average child, I would need clarification. After all, who says that to a six-year-old? Being the adult-minded person I am, this is probably headed toward a recommendation for something.
"Kid, I want to recommend you to a travel team. They go for longer in the season since we only play eight games, and they can play up to 30. The problem is that an MLS team sponsors the team I would like to recommend you for, so you would need a recommendation to pass tryouts. Getting in is more challenging, but the training is at the next level. Please let me know what your thoughts are.
Taking a second to pretend to think about it, I nod in agreement.
"If it means I can train more and get more experience, I would be all for it, Coach."
Coach Smith smiles back at me and then turns to Coach Jonson, "Call Mr. Tate, tell him I would like to talk to him about a promising recruit."
Coach Johnson nods, leaving the office while pulling out his flip phone.
"Now, we have a daunting task ahead of us. We need to convince your parents to pay for it," Coach Smith says with a furrowed brow.
"How much is it," I question.
"About 1600 dollars."
"A month!?!" I exclaim.
"Hahaha. No, A season," he chuckles humorously.
"Oh, Thank God," I sigh in relief.
"You shouldn't use the Lord's name in vain, Kid," he says with mock seriousness.
"Sorry, it just kind of slipped out," I rubbed my head sheepishly.
Hearing a commotion outside, we both turn to the door as Coach Johnson cracks it to peek inside. Seeing we are looking at him, he smiles awkwardly and enters.
"I have Mr. Tate on the phone, Coach Smith," he says while holding out the opened flip phone.
Nodding in appreciation, Coach Smith takes the phone and presses the button to put it on speaker.
"Jordan, it's a pleasure to speak to you again. I've got you on speaker here with a promising recruit I found for you."
A deep baritone voice comes through the speaker from the other side. "David, long time my brother. How is coaching the little kids going?"
"Oh, well. They are occasionally interesting, especially when I meet hidden gems like our Mr. Jones here."
"Mr. Jones, eh? How are you doing, kid? This old fart ain't giving you a hard time, is he?"
I step toward the desk and lean slightly to be heard more clearly. Trying to project, I answer with firmness.
"Not at all, Mr. Tate. I came to join Coach Smith's team today as I heard he was the best coach in the State of Florida," I praise while winking at Coach Smith, who smirked and shook his head.
"That old coot is the best in the state, well I'll be. Hahaha."
After getting his laughter under control, Mr. Tate clears his throat. "So, you are slick one, Mr. Jones. What can you tell me about him, Coach?"
"Quick on his feet, good dribbling, excellent passing, especially for a six-year-old."
"High praise from you. Do you know where to play him?"
It does feel weird to be talked about while standing inches from the conversation, but I held my tongue because, at this point, I was still a kid, and when adults talk, kids should listen the best they can.
"I think he would be excellent as an 8 (Box-to-box midfielder) or a 10 {attacking midfielder). His defending was also god, but we don't emphasize testing or training that much since.. well, you know."
"Little kids, right? If he caught your eye, I would be a fool not to try him out. Can you ask his parents if they can come here on Tuesday?"
"Ah, well. I have yet to talk to his parents about this. Chris (Coach Johnson) can leave a message for you. Who knew you would answer?
"I answer my phone.. sometimes. Anyway, could you talk to them and get back to me? However, if he can come on Tuesday, that would be best because we are starting the season on Saturday."
"Well, tomorrow is short notice, but I'll see what I can do. Alright, thanks for your time, Jordan. We should get a meal together sometime."
"I'm down, David. Let me know."
And with that, Coach Smith ended the call and handed Coach Johnson back his phone.
"Now, let's devise a plan to convince your parents before they get here."