Written in February 2016
The coach stopped me at the edge of the pitch.
He said my son was a problem. Out of thirty boys, Karta was the one they were close to letting go.
I asked why nobody had spoken to me before. He dodged the question.
My stomach turned. It was a warning.
I rely on instinct now. I learned the hard way. At twenty-five, I stopped listening to my gut, and I fell apart.
I lost years to that breakdown. My memory is still full of holes. I let the wrong people in. I made bad choices.
It took a good friend to keep me grounded. Later, my wife taught me to trust myself again.
That trust is ringing alarm bells now.
It was hard to find a club. Most want players who are already good. This place promised to teach him.
He has gone every week since September. He has never played a match.
I watch him from the sidelines. I do not see a troublemaker. I see a boy trying to learn.
My head says to be patient. It says to see if things improve.
My gut says to take him and leave.
I think I know which voice to listen to.