moving abroad

12 years ago, at the ripe old age of 18, i packed up my stuff and i moved to the US to play college soccer. now i'm 30 and i've decided to move to the UK to play football. so what's changed? and what have i learnt?

when i was 18, i was at a very different stage of my life. i had just finished school, i had a job i was only working at for 15 hours a week, funding for australian camps had just been cut, and the sasi system was about to be removed. moving abroad made sense. college was a way to get a free education whilst playing the sport i loved in a professional environment. i was excited about the move - i had nothing keeping me in adelaide and i was yearning for life experiences. everything was set up before i left australia - i had a team, i had teammates, i had accommodation, and most importantly, i had my parents accompany me for the first two weeks of the move. the importance of this cannot be understated - they were a constant. a support. they knew what i needed before i knew i needed it. they were the familiar in the unfamiliar. when they left, i was set. i had a US bank account, a US sim, and 9 months later, i would have a car that my Dad helped me find and buy.

fast forward 12 years and i find myself going through a similar process, but everything seems different. everything feels harder. and i'd be lying if i said i'm glad i moved.

so what's been so much harder about this move? the unknowns. i don't have a team. and until i find a team, i can't find a job. i can't look for accommodation. and i don't have my family here to drive me wherever i need to go. i'm beyond fortunate to be set up at my partner's cousin's place, but despite the connection to my partner, they’re essentially strangers in the same way i am to them (although they’re becoming more familiar the more time we spend together). they've got a life, they've got work, and their priority is not getting me set up in the same way my parents did 12 years ago (*just to clarify, by no means do i expect or think i should be a priority to them). so everything i plan, i have to plan around hiring a car or public transport. which as you might imagine, can be extremely limiting and costly.

the first day i got here i sent emails out to 40 different clubs. and i've heard back from a few at various times, but some of their replies have sent me into a spiral because they've asked questions i quickly learnt i was unequipped to answer. apparently in order to play professionally in the UK, you need to apply for an international sports visa. but the only way to get an international sports visa is to have a club apply for one on their behalf. they also need to be certified to sponsor you and if not, they need to apply to become certified. a lot of work for a club that knows nothing about you. not only this, but you also must qualify with enough GBE points. and the only way to qualify for GBE points? is to have played a-league. no one who has played WNPL in Australia, regardless of their ability, can then come to the UK and sign a professional contract. why does this matter? well it limits who you can play for. most tier 2 clubs are professional clubs meaning i can't play for them. everything seems to come back to this unrelenting fact that i haven't played a-league. i came here in attempt to make something of myself, despite the fact i haven't played a-league, and it appears i'm still being limited based on that fact. it's like i've got this big black cloud, this big black fuck off fact that i haven't played a-league, following me everywhere, limiting not just soccer experiences, but work experiences in australia too. i wanted to become a public speaker for pickstar - couldn't. hadn't played a high enough level (despite growing up in young matildas squads). i wanted to get the pfa to cover my c license. couldn't. despite being on a professional contract at inter, i wasn't considered a 'professional' (because i haven't played a-league [despite being signed in 2017 as an injury replacement]). it's like when you try to apply for your first job - bosses want you to have experience. but how do you get experience if no one gives you a chance? i often wonder the player i could have been had i been afforded an opportunity 6 years ago when i moved back to australia. or even 15 years ago when adelaide united first started up again.what did they have that i didn't? an opportunity and a coach that gave them a chance, at the right time. i'm still waiting for that opportunity. but my time is running out.

the other reality i'm finding is that all of these clubs are in the middle of their season - they have a squad, they have a team, they're not necessarily going to prioritise an international player coming in. so i'm finding the process to be rather slow. but i get it - this is a priority to me, but it's not to a club. i thought being in this country might make it easier, especially with my willingness to trial and get there however i can, but it's not as simple as that. i also thought that with my passion, my eagerness to learn, and my desire to be involved in coaching at a club, it would make me an ideal candidate for anyone to sign me. but again, my experiences have yet to bring these beliefs to fruition. in one way, not having a name gives you a fresh start, but in another, it means no one knows your character. they don't know your value. so you have to show them - which can be difficult during a finite trialling period.

so i don't have soccer yet. but it's more than just not having soccer. i don't have coaching. i don't have teammates. i don't have boxing. i don't have that support network that comes from immediately meeting new people. i also don't have a job. i don't have my family. i don't have my partner. and i don't have my cats. i know this seems like a minor fact, but my cats have been the biggest constant in my life for the past 11 years. my cats were there for me in the US when i had nothing else. they were there during my darkest days. they have literally saved my life. and not having them, even just something to look forward to when coming home, is hard. some people keep telling me to relish in the freedom, but this isn't freedom. this is isolation. i look at this week and i'm stressed because i have nothing to do during the day. there's only so long you can keep yourself self-stimulated for. and i wonder how long humans can last without having any form of purpose before they start going mad and getting depressed. i've written often about connection being the antidote to depression, but what happens when you don't have connection? hope is what motivates you to alter your situation, but how long until the hope well runs dry?

i guess at times when i question, what the fuck have i done? or have i made the right decision? i have to remind myself of everything i felt back in adelaide. i can't go back. not yet. not until i've learnt something. not until i've experienced what i've wanted to experience here. living in adelaide makes me angry. i'm resentful about my experiences. and i know that if i go back too soon, that bitterness will continue to dominate my experiences - as both a player and a coach. and i don't want that. i need to broaden my experiences which is the reason i moved to the UK. living in adelaide is insular - it's a small town. even living in australia is limiting. we're so far behind the rest of the world with the standards of coaching and resources. i have to keep reminding myself that this is an investment into my wellbeing. it's an investment into my future as both a player, coach, and eventual parent. it's hard now, but most things that are challenging end up being rewarding. the lessons i've learnt already will no doubt assist me in offering advice to other players wanting to move abroad. my advice to them based on my experiences so far? bring someone with you. whether that's a partner, a family member, or a friend, having a familiar in a world of unfamiliar makes the world of difference.

Coaching Philosophy 3.0

This season I played a more active role in coaching. After a one-year hiatus, I took upon the role of coaching the U17s team at Salisbury Inter. Despite coaching these girls two years ago, this year was different – I was the sole head coach. And admittedly I had more time than I did in 2021. What was the result? Coaching consumed me this year – I found that in my spare time I’d be reading threads on Twitter or LinkedIn, anything that challenged or inspired the way I coached. I also took more of an active role within my WNPL side – constantly analysing training sessions and games, wondering how I could improve sessions or what I thought the team needed to work on. I feel like I’m in a golden era because I’m able to both play and coach – so everything I do I’m analysing from both perspectives. As a player, how do I find this? As a coach, how would I address this? The beauty too of playing and coaching is that I still have the connections with my teammates as they see me as their captain rather than coach. I think when you officially transition into the latter, a barrier often arises which hinders your learnings of their feelings.

So why am I revisiting my philosophy now? Although I still firmly believe in everything I wrote back in 2020 (which forms the basis of my coaching philosophy), I wanted to shift my attention to more soccer principles. This year has been pivotal in cementing my desire to coach at a higher level. I have thoroughly enjoyed coaching juniors, and there’ll always be a large part of me that enjoys connecting and mentoring these young girls. But as an individual, I thrive on learning. And that’s where I’m at – I want to learn. I’m still a very young coach in the sense that I don’t know a lot about soccer. But I want to learn. I want to learn from others who do the things I can’t. From coaches who know things I don’t. Especially with regards to technical and tactical knowledge of the game. Sure, I could go through the process of getting my coaching licenses (which I inevitably will do), but I think we can learn so much more from experts around us. From coaches who have had ‘success’ – not with their results, but with their connections and retention of players.

How do you define success as a coach? Most people probably look at a coach’s coaching history and evaluate their ability based on the trophies they’ve won – but is that all there is to coaching? One thing that I find really hard to do is to distinguish whether a team is successful because they’re a great team or because they had a great coach. The reality is, there’s no way to know the influence a coach has had on a team. There’s no way to know whether a coach has truly helped a player develop, or whether they’re developing naturally because of exposure and increased playing time. For example, I look at the players I coached this year and all of them have improved from where they were two seasons ago. But that’s not because of me. Some of these girls are doing things I’ve never taught them to do. So I can’t take credit for their development – that’s all them. All I have done though, is create an environment which has seemingly been conducive for their development. So how then, can you determine if a coach is a decent coach? My litmus test is threefold – do players learn and improve, individually and collectively? (Development). Are players motivated to do more; are they engaged? (Motivation). And do players want to play for the same coach again? (Retention).

I know as a coach I don’t have the technical knowledge, yet, to really help players improve technically. What I can do though, is create a safe environment. An environment in which these individuals feel comfortable trying new things without the fear of being yelled at. That comes to the core of my philosophy – safety. Without safety, no one can reach their excellence. Without safety, people are focusing on surviving rather than thriving. Players know when they’ve made a mistake. The worst thing you can do as a coach is yell at that player for it. If a player repeatedly makes the same mistake, over and over, I believe it’s then the coach’s duty to coach that player. They’re not making a mistake because they want to, but because they lack the knowledge or the skill to do otherwise. As a coach, you need to look at where are they making the mistake? What part of the field? When are they making the mistake – under pressure or no pressure? What is happening before they make this mistake? Are they aware of what’s around them (an information issue)? Or are they simply choosing the wrong pass / making the wrong decision? If the latter, why? What have I been communicating to my players?

When giving feedback, quite often coaches give generic phrases, “You turn the ball over too much,” without considering the environment. When does this happen, and why does this happen? Is it possible the player doesn’t have other options? Is it possible that in a coach communicating “play directly” that that is contributing to a higher turn over rate? As a coach, the first thing you must do is look inward. What role have I played in this individual’s mistake? What role have I played in this team’s performance? What can I do to ensure this doesn’t happen again? What can I do to get the best out of this individual player? Self-awareness then, is a core quality that I value. So too an openness for being wrong.

All coaches are human. And part of being human means making mistakes. There have been multiple times already in my coaching career where I have admitted that I was wrong. Whether it was the approach I took with the team, tactical decisions I made on game day, or overlooking a player for a team in which she should have been selected for. The beauty of admitting your mistakes is that it humanises you. And by humanising yourself, you build trust. You build rapport. You build connection. But you also defuse the situation. It’s very hard to be angry at someone who admits they fucked up. But again, this all requires individuals to be introspective.

As mentioned in my previous coaching philosophy, my coaching style is very much a Q&A style. At the end of the day, I don’t know everything. And there’s a high chance players are able to see something on the field that I can’t. By asking them questions, they’re then engaged. They’re contributing to the team and the solution. They’re also then developing their own critical thinking skills. I ask questions like, “where are we vulnerable?” or “how does the opposition look like they’re going to score?” Then I might ask, “how do we prevent that? What do we need to do?”. My role as a coach isn’t being a dictator, it’s being a facilitator. Creating an environment in which individuals solve their own problems. The more engaged players are, the more empowered they feel, and the more connected they are to playing for each other (see Patrick Lencioni’s Five Dysfunctions of a Team).

For most of my life I’ve been overlooked for teams based on what I can’t do – on the fact that my GPS data doesn’t show a maximum speed of 28km/h or higher. For that reason, I refuse to be a narrow-minded coach. I will select players for what they can do. If a player doesn’t have speed, I guarantee they’re probably smarter than a player who does have speed. I don’t care for GPS data. I don’t care for fitness tests. I don’t care about anything other than a player’s effectiveness on the field. What I mean by this is (e.g. for a centre back), how often is this player beaten? How often does the opposition play through our defence? How many goals are we conceding? Assessing a player’s ability based on arbitrary data that few people can actually change is limiting and narrow-minded. Lionel Messi ran the least distance out of any player at the men’s world cup but guess what? He was still the best player. Speed, distance, high speed running, none of that guarantees an effective, influential player.

In regards to fitness testing, the reason I don’t care for them is because what do coaches even use them for anyway? As a player, never has a coach used fitness tests as a reason not to play me. Nor have they tailored my conditioning based on the results. I find testing to be an unnecessary anxiety-provoking element of the game, yet few have questioned its relevance. If a player has an excellent running style, I guarantee they’ll excel in testing. But how does that correlate to their effectiveness on the field? How does that relate to their ability to run out 90mins? How does that relate to this concept of being fit for football? What this means is their ability to make the same quality decision in the 90th minute as they were able to in the first minute. How does running a beep test or yo-yo test translate to making better decisions? It doesn’t. The best way to get fit for football is to actually play football. Not lifting weights in the gym, not running 1km time trials, no, the best and only way to get conditioned to play a game of football is to just play.

Another aspect of my coaching style that I want to challenge for others is this concept of ‘pretty football’. Many coaches have an obsession with wanting to keep possession because they claim it’s ‘nice to watch’. Japan vs Spain in the Women’s World Cup – Spain had 77% possession but lost 4-0. Possession doesn’t guarantee results. Yes, you need the ball to score. But why do you need to make 20 passes before you can score? What isn’t pretty about playing a well-weighted ball over the top to a striker? I again argue the effectiveness of the former. As a coach, I’m looking at playing in a way that creates the most opportunities to score and the least opportunities to concede – however that looks, I don’t care.

Games are invariably won and lost by a team’s ability to convert their chances. In regards to training, how much time do you devote to shooting? Quite often coaches will probably say less than 20%. If soccer is all about scoring, why then do we devote such little time to practicing that? For that reason, almost all of the drills I design will have an element of shooting and scoring. Keeping possession, again, means nothing if players can’t convert their chances.

As a coach, what I’m looking for in a player is intelligence. How are they able to maximise their strengths, whilst minimising the exposure of their weaknesses. Better yet, how are they able to exploit the weaknesses of an opposition? What are they doing when every other player has mentally ‘switched off’. Are they looking for the quick throw in? The short corner? Intelligence will win you games you potentially ‘shouldn’t’ win. The other qualities I look for in a player relate to my three non-negotiables: work ethic, attitude, and body language. These are three qualities players are always in control over. Players can’t control the mistakes they make, but they can control their reaction. Do they work hard to win the ball back, or are they taken out of their game because of negative body language? The best player to me is not the player who scores the most goals, but the player who makes all other players better. That’s the type of player I want playing for me. The player who sacrifices personal glory for the team. And sometimes these players don’t step a foot on the field. Quite often your most important players are actually your bench players. Why? Because they determine the culture of the team. Are they pushing the starting players to be better by challenging for their positions? Are they positive on the bench? Or are they resentful, bitter, negative? How a coach manages the players who don’t play communicates a lot about their ability to coach. How are they keeping these players engaged and motivated? What conversations are they having? Are they being honest and transparent, or selling lies because they want to avoid a difficult conversation? I read somewhere that the success of your life is directly proportional to your willingness to have difficult conversations. Are they uncomfortable? Absolutely. But they’re necessary. And again, they make you human.

I know I don’t know everything there is to know about coaching, but I am willing to learn. I also admit that many of the statements I’ve claimed here have the potential to change – and that’s okay too. As humans, we’re constantly evolving. Which is why I believe it’s important to intentionally revisit the things we believe to ensure that is still what we believe. That is what I have tried to do here. If you’re interested in reading just how much my philosophy has evolved, please read my former posts; Coaching Philosophy 2.0 and Challenging Coaching.

hey, how are you?

how many times do you think you say this phrase throughout a day? i say phrase rather than question because i'm really not sure we're ever actually genuinely asking, how are you? it's more of a nicety, a social norm. you don't just say "hey" or "hello" (or in my case, "howdy") but it's always followed by a "how's it going" "how are you today". on the surface, this is a nice thing to do, right? but is it possible this unconscious conditioning is actually harmful to our wellbeing?

i was prompted to think about this upon meeting two Germans at the cafe i work at. in attempt to display my limited knowledge of German i said, "Guten tag, wie geht's dir?" (which translates to "hello, how are you?"). these ladies were very quick to tell me not to use that phrase in Germany. curious, i asked them why. "because we don't ask that question unless we genuinely want to know how someone is. here, in Australia, we get asked it all the time. but no one actually cares for the answer."

i've often thought this too. how many times have you been asked, how are you? and felt that the asker is genuinely interested in your answer? not to mention, how do you answer that question? am i the only one who ever feels overwhelmed by what seems like a simple question? how am i - in this moment? how am i - today? how am i - mentally? physically? emotionally? how am i - doing in life in general? because the truth is, how we are changes moment to moment. and the answer can rarely be succinctly wrapped up in a quick reply.

i think what i'm trying to get at with this post is that we've lost the ability to check in with others. we've become so addicted to superficiality, to convenience, that we have forgotten to stop and check in with those around us. and admittedly, i've fallen victim to this too. i can't remember the last time i caught up with a friend and i asked them how they're doing, in general. our phones have made us more accessible, but less connected. we feel content going months without seeing friends and only communicating through a screen. but a screen is so impersonal. and i don't know about others, but i'm horrible at replying. i don't want to talk about my life through digital characters. i want to articulate my thoughts, in person, where i know i have the other person's full attention.

maybe all of this comes down to the lost art of friendship. numerous studies have shown that the number of people we feel we can depend on in a crisis has steadily declined over the past 10-20 years. it used to be 5, now most people feel like they don't even have one person they could call upon - why is that? when was the last time you felt truly seen or heard by a friend? now let's flip that, when was the last time you truly heard and saw a friend? texting doesn't suffice. and it's killing our connections with others.

i've found that being in a relationship is both the best and worst thing to happen to people and friendships. best thing, because invariably individuals become a better version of themselves - they feel more secure, settled, fulfilled. worse though, because often people become less intentional. their needs are being met by their partner, so why venture out and communicate with friends? when someone is single, their friendships are their livelihood - they're a necessity. but when people get into relationships, friendships almost feel like an inconvenience. they take effort. and in a world that is becoming increasingly more dependent on convenience and instant gratification, it's no wonder that our friendships are being neglected. but at what cost?

i for one know that i'm lonely. i'm in a very loving and supporting relationship, which fulfills almost all of my needs, but i still find myself missing my friends. i miss our thought-provoking chats. i miss the learning of others' lives. i miss the connections. i think as we get older, it becomes too easy to forget about our friends and too hard to make effort. but we need to. humans need friends. we're social creatures and we can't rely upon one person to fulfill all of our needs. i've had many friendships over the years dissipate into nothingness and i'm still, to this date, at a loss for how it happened. i've found losing a friend hurts more than losing a partner. often with a partner we can rationalise that we weren't compatible, but for a friend? it's a lot harder to understand. especially because there's often no closure - people terminate friendships not intentionally, but by conveniently ignoring communications i.e. ghosting them.

the more that technology continues to dominate society, the more that we need to be intentional with those in our lives. sending a message 'checking in' doesn't suffice. people need people. the only way to feel truly connected to others is by spending time with them and asking the hard questions. but more importantly, listening to their answers. connections are born in vulnerability. but the only way for others to be vulnerable is to be intentional about creating an environment where others share their humanness. we need to get back to the basics. we need to learn how to be better friends again.