I would love to see the trends spelled out as to where soccer players go to play college soccer. If you kick out the obvious, like community colleges tend to draw in-state students,  and regional factors (how many Alabamans survive more than one season in Massachusetts?), I wonder if certain coaches have bias for and/or against local kids.

If I could bottle this knowledge I’d make a fortune selling it to parents of 11-graders. (“No, Junior, I will NOT drive you to look at the University of Nine-States-Away.  You KNOW that coach never recruits from our region.”)

I could market my knowledge thusly: “Save on Hotels and Gas! Learn which college trips are a waste of your time!”

The women’s soccer coach at Colorado University made headlines because his incoming class is composed of — gasp!— all Colorado players!

C’mon, Doyle, get Mom that calculator before the X-Box self-destructs!

Maybe it’s a good thing that I only drove Holmes in our plain ole car (rather than the shiny red Odyssey I covet) on our recent college visits.

* Do not underestimate the soccer played at junior colleges in the United States. The rosters are filled with international players/recent immigrants and they are GOOD.

Cynical College Coaches?

Here is part I of a two-parter written by a couple of longtime Junior College Coaches–very successful coaches, I might add.  I laughed out loud at some of these, nodded knowingly at others, and was VERY glad that my webcam was turned off so as not to capture my red face for a few.

Yep, the all-knowing Watsons goofed a few times while shopping our boys.  Minor ones, I think. Like point #14:

The player looks like he is 12 years old in the photo. Sure, no problem going one on one against a 26-year-old international player.

I hope you enjoy the mildly cynical comments that accompany this list. Forewarned is forearmed!

Reactions in the Watson household:
17-year-old: That was an accident.
13-year-old: Why didn’t the keeper get it?

What say YOUR kids?

In the middle school years, teammates  parents of teammates of Sherlock and Holmes bragged about how hard their kids worked at Ralph Lundy Camp, or complained about having to drive to Duke Camp, etc. I smiled sympathetically while smugly calculating how much money they must have spent on these “investments in little Pele’s future soccer career”.

We did spend equal, if not higher, amounts of money-we-did-not-have to let the boys go to sleepaway summer camps. Camps with lakes were preferred, ideally with boating, but at least with the Blob. Ropes courses, nature hikes, backpacking, bike riding, campfires, and some kind of Indian names and secret handshakes were what Mr. Watson and I thought would a nice change from the eleven and a half months of soccer they were used to.

When the boys entered high school, their summers were filled with club soccer tournaments, even Regionals. The high school coach required the whole team to attend an “elite” camp at a college. So we saw no need nor time to attend any other camps.

Now that Holmes, our junior, seriously wants to play college soccer, coaches are strongly encouraging him to attend their camps this summer. One coach even responded to a recent email with a form letter that said, “. . . due to our success, there is higher interest than ever in our program. When you come to our camp we can evaluate you among your peers . . .”

In other words, save your personal best DVDs and local newspaper clippings. Sign up for $495 and let us decide if you should even breathe our air.

Ahhhh, air. Reminds me of Camp Lotsa-Bugs-and-Far-From-Homa.