Training U8–U11 Football: A Life and Business Philosophy

Life’s a bit like a muddy football pitch—full of stumbles, surprises, and the occasional glorious goal. For the past few months, I’ve been lacing up my boots to coach U8–U11 kids in football, and let me tell you, it’s not just a side gig—it’s a masterclass in life, business, and keeping the spark alive. Picture this: a gaggle of 8- to 11-year-olds, half of them tripping over their own feet, all of them buzzing with energy, and me, a former corporate warrior now running my own AI agency, trying to teach them how to pass a ball while secretly learning how to navigate my entrepreneurial dreams. It’s chaotic, it’s hilarious, and it’s downright inspiring. Stick with me, because this weekly journey is about to get you hooked. Every session, I’m out there on the grass, showing these pint-sized players how to kick, pass, and dart into open space. But let’s be real—it’s not just about football. These drills? They’re life lessons in disguise. Watching a kid freeze before a new move, eyes wide with that “what if I mess up?” look, hits me right in the gut. It’s the same flutter I get pitching a bold idea to a client or staring down a blank business plan. Failure feels scary, whether you’re 8 or 38. But here’s the magic: these kids try anyway. They shank a shot, giggle, and go again. That’s the entrepreneurial spirit right there—grit wrapped in a grin. It’s a reminder that success doesn’t start with perfection; it starts with showing up and giving it a go. These young athletes are still figuring out their bodies—legs wobbling, balls flying everywhere but the goal. Sound familiar? Building a business is just as messy. My AI agency is my own wobbly-legged venture, full of missteps and learning curves. But like my players, I keep showing up, tweaking the game plan, and trusting that progress comes with practice. The kids don’t need to be Messi yet; they just need to keep moving forward. And neither do I—or you. Here’s where it gets fun: we make it a blast. We play silly games, high-five every wonky pass, and laugh when someone accidentally boots the ball into the next field. Joy is the secret sauce. If the kids stop loving it, they’ll stop showing up. Same goes for business. If I’m not excited about my agency, why would clients be? So, I channel that energy—celebrating small wins, keeping the vibe light, and making sure every step feels worth it. It’s not just coaching; it’s a philosophy for building anything worthwhile. Now, let’s talk challenges. I’m in the Netherlands, and my Dutch is, well, let’s say it’s a work in progress. Most of these kids don’t speak English or Spanish, my go-to languages. Yet, we make it work—through fist bumps, exaggerated gestures, and a universal language: smiles. It’s like running a business in a new market—you don’t need to know every detail to connect; you just need enthusiasm and a shared goal. It’s a humbling reminder that heart speaks louder than words. This “hobby-job,” as I call it, is more than a couple of evenings on the pitch. It’s my weekly reset, a chance to learn as much as I teach. These kids show me that progress is messy, connection transcends language, and joy fuels persistence. They’re mastering free kicks; I’m mastering the art of building a business with soul. Together, we’re chasing something bigger—one muddy, joyful step at a time. Want to know what else these mini maestros teach me about life and business? Come back next week for more—it’s going to be a riot.