I sit here after a training session that ended not with tired satisfaction, but with a heavy heart and a knot of disappointment. Kingkong, soon to step onto the demanding pitch of academy football, and I, trying desperately to prepare him, hit a wall. And the impact left cracks.
It should have been one of those crisp early sessions where growth and joy meet on the grass. Instead, it ended with frustration and silence.
We were working on a specific skill — the trivela pass. Not as a trick for showreels, but as a real, usable weapon in modern football. The kind that separates the casual from the academy-level thinker. On TV, it’s effortless magic. This morning, it was… not that. When I pointed this out, the response was —:
“I’ve always done it like this, and I’m sure I’m doing it right.”
That phrase, echoing in the cooling morning air, hit harder than any misplaced pass. It wasn’t just about the technique; it was a dismissal of growth, And there it was — the wall I’ve hit before. Not in the feet, but in the mind-set. A dangerous resistance to correction. A quiet rejection of growth. It echoed lessons I’ve written about before: the fragile pride we must be careful not to feed too early. Because as we learned in Those Who Live in Glass Houses, pride without accountability invites cracks.
This Is Bigger Than One Drill
I had picked up his teammate early that morning for the session. Hoping, maybe, that peer presence would spark a bit of fire. His mate got it — embraced the discipline, moved with urgency, followed the three-touch rule, executed the pass. Kingkong? The instructions seemed to slide off him. Feet static when they should dance, an extra touch here, a hesitation there. Then came the sulking. Visible frustration, a withdrawal right there in front of his teammate – a fellow squad member.
I paused everything. Not to shout. But to try — again — to reach him. away from prying eyes, a desperate attempt to bridge the growing gap.
Because this isn’t about a trivela.
This is about a dream — academy football. A system built for those who listen first, execute next, and question later — respectfully. A system that will not wait for anyone to catch up emotionally. It will simply replace.
The Tale of Two Talents.
Later that evening, I spoke to Uncle Smart — someone who walked the professional football path. His words? Hard, unfiltered truth, echoing my deepest fear
“Do you remember Islam Feruz?” “I knew him personally”
Feruz had it all — speed, skill, spotlight. A Celtic wonderkid, once mentioned in the same breathe as Wayne Rooney and Romario. He played in the same youth setup as Andy Robertson — now a Champions League winner under Jurgen Klopp’s Liverpool.
Feruz signed early with Chelsea. Meanwhile, Robertson was released by Celtic “for being too small and scrawny”. But while Feruz fell into off-field distractions, Robertson kept his head down, played at Queen’s Park, and slowly built a career of substance. So while Feruz was being benched at League One, Swindon Town ( and out of football by age 24). Robertson was lifting the Premier League trophy at Anfield!
Same starting point. Completely different paths.
What made the difference? Not talent.
Mindset. Coachability. Discipline. Respect.
Parenting Beyond Performance
I’ve written before in Parenting Beyond Performance that our job isn’t to raise performers; it’s to raise people with values that last beyond the pitch.
This morning, it felt like a test of that mission. It felt like a warning sign: that maybe the discipline we’re trying to instil isn’t sinking in the way it should. That his growing confidence may be turning into something more fragile — a confidence that doesn’t allow room for correction.
KingKong, Consider This Your tipping point!
You don’t yet understand how rare this opportunity is — academy football isn’t Sunday league with a badge. It’s a high-performance space where only the hungry, humble, and highly coachable survive.
Your manager won’t stop to explain three times. He’ll move on. There are other talented kids vying for attention and spots and as explained by your Uncle, Smart “there are better players who did not make it ”! Listening isn’t optional; it’s survival!
Your sulking won’t be tolerated. It will simply cost you the spot! A player who doesn’t absorb coaching, who argues technique instead of refining it, who sulks when challenged? That player soon finds himself on the bench, watching the game pass them by
You must realise that following instructions precisely is about understanding systems, tactics, and earning trust. I won’t always be able to step in…
The academy will decide. Based on what you show them!
This Isn’t A Punishment — It’s An Invitation
I’ve considered whether time with family in Africa might provide the reflection you need, not as a punishment — but as a reset– as a potential catalyst for perspective. In the coming days, we shall take a trip to my birthplace, why? To reconnect with the values you sometimes take for granted: Discipline, Respect and Hardwork! To understand that nothing is owed, and every opportunity must be earned.
The challenges you present aren’t confined to football; they ripple into school life too, as previous posts have hinted. Every day feels like a battle against complacency!
But you, Kingkong are talented. Phenomenally so and that’s only the beginning.
If you don’t change your mind-set, you’ll watch others pass you by — players with less flair but more focus. You’ll become the cautionary tale, not the success story. You’ll be Islam Feruz when you could have been Andy Robertson.
The world of professional sport is brutally unforgiving. It devours those with flawed character or poor attitude, no matter how gifted. Technical brilliance can open doors, but character and professionalism keep you in the room and on the pitch
What Path Will You Choose?
I’ll always be in your corner. I’ll keep turning up, but the real fight? That’s yours. It demands more than you’re currently giving. It demands respect for the process, respect for the coach (even when you privately disagree).
I believe in you. I see the incredible player you can become. But that player needs to emerge now. He needs to embrace the grind, the discipline, and the humility to learn and be corrected. He needs to understand that the manager, within the context of the team and the system, is the authority on that pitch.
So here it is, KingKong:
- Listen more than you talk.
- Do not complain but appreciate the privilege to play the game you love.
- Execute first, discuss later, Respectfully!
- Respect your coach. Respect your teammates. Respect the game by giving 100% focus
- Respect yourself by pushing your limits
The bench or the pitch?
The path of Feruz or Robertson?
The past you, or the better you?
It starts tomorrow. Open your ears, be teachable and show everyone – especially yourself – the champion mindset that matches your talent. This could be your last set of opportunity, not because I’m giving up, but because the academy system will make its choices. They’ll invest their time in players who listen, who adapt, who fight for every ball and every instruction with equal intensity
I’ll be watching. Still believing. Still hoping.
But from here on out, the next step is yours.
