Day one of practice, my plan was simple: let my players know that I'm no longer "Drew" and now I am Coach. In other circumstances this might not be as much of a challenge. But I had just taken over as head coach of my alma mater. Some of these players who were now seniors were JV players when I was a senior. Many of them were good friends with my younger brother. Setting the tone early — that I was a serious coach here to help them get better and compete for regional titles — was imperative.
Early on I thought that showing them how skilled I was as a player was the answer. I had just graduated from the University of the Cumberlands, where I had played soccer. Admittedly, I spent more time on the bench than on the field on game day. But after four years practicing at that level, it was no problem outdoing the high schoolers now under my charge.
For the first month, we ran my favorite drills from my time as a player. Lots of touches, passes and volleys, possession drills, and small-sided games. I thought we were rolling. The first meaningful game of the season comes and we drop a 0-5 decision to our district rivals. This was devastating. We had a five-year hold on the district tournament and the expectation was that this year we would find a way to make number six happen. This early loss was a cataclysmic setback.
That first real sting of defeat as a coach hit harder than any I'd ever experienced as a player. I woke up that next morning still sick to my stomach. I looked at the practice plans I'd been scribbling on blank printer paper and clipping together. I knew it wasn't enough. Running the "best" drills over and over hadn't made us any better as a team. When I jumped in to "show them how it's done," the outcome wasn't respect as a coach — just missed opportunities for my own players. There had to be a better way.
My time at UC had taught me one thing, if nothing else: persistence. I was not a quitter, and I felt that we could get through this and become a better team. I thought back to how my college coach had talked to me about improving. I remember he always said it wasn't linear — it was like steps on a staircase. Once you clear one, you have some time to get forward momentum, but when you get to the next step, it becomes incredibly hard to get up to the next level. I needed to figure out how to push my players forward and over that next step.
The goal was clear. Take the first step.
