In the fall of 1984, I discovered the Odeum Sports Complex in Villa Park. The Odeum had two professional-style indoor soccer fields. The fields were surrounded with boards made of fiberglass and plexiglas dashers. The fields had been used by MISL and NASL teams at one time and were probably picked up at fire-sale prices. The Odeum was also considerably less expensive than Arlington for their eight-game sessions. The whole operation was run by former pro Tony Dallas (the MISL Kansas City Comets, among others). I had instant respect for Tony and his knowledge of the game and for his integrity. He said that he watched all the teams very closely and made it a point to ensure fair and equitable competition. In the time that we played at the Odeum, there were instances when Tony denied some teams access even to the weakest league because their level of play was so poor. Sure, the Odeum would make their buck, but soccer was Tony's first priority.
The Byki began training for the new indoor season in September of 1984. Three newcomers entered the squad: Rich Hass, Chris Zadlo and Greg Bujwid. Gone were Greg Taraszkiewicz, Les Jankiewicz and Mark Klonowski. Chris, then a student at Holy Cross H.S., managed to convince the school administration that renting their gym to the Byki at a cut-rate price would be good idea. This gave us an opportunity to practice during the winter on a flat surface, which would resemble indoor conditions. Our first match was scheduled for November.
At this time, I regained full control of the operation of the team. I did not relish the role of player- coach, but it was the best solution for all concerned. I very much looked forward to the new club, though. The additions of Chris and Greg improved our level of play almost immediately. I felt that Bujwid, our new keeper, had much better physical tools than either of his predecessors. I set very high hopes for him.
The specialized training worked wonders for us. By formally practicing nearly every Sunday morning, it was easy to gauge our progress. I made it a point to work hard on reaching peak fitness. Our teamwork also improved greatly during this time. With a little bit of experience, albeit negative, under our belts, I allowed myself to feel somewhat confident going into the season.
Our early results showed that putting one's nose to the grindstone never hurt anyone. At the end of the regular season, our record stood at 5-2, good for second place in our division of the D League. Our playoff game would contest third place, and would be against the Warriors, who finished in second place in the League's other division.
We had played terrific soccer and I was pleased that we were in the position to win the club's first trophy. Having seen the Warriors play, I knew they would give us all we could handle in the playoff match. I was also confident that we had the talent to beat them. Our performance in the playoff game, however, was very frustrating. We went away from the kind of play that earned that 5-2 record. Passes went astray, players stood around watching the ball. In short, it was as if some impostors had shown up at the Odeum pretending to be the Byki. We lost the game 3-1, but it wasn't even that close. We played most of the game backpedaling, and too many of us were stuck in reverse mentally as well. The result was a bitter ending to an otherwise successful session. It was very tough going up to the Odeum bar after that match and seeing the Warriors celebrating. Their revelry centered around the third-place trophy, a trophy that just as easily could have been ours. That night's lesson stayed imprinted on my memory: you have to lose a big game in order to learn how to win one.
We registered for the very next session at the Odeum. We felt that we had a good thing going and it only made sense to keep right on playing. This session started in early 1985 and ended that April. We made no roster changes for the new session.
We ended up with a record of 5-2-1, but finished the regular season out of playoff contention. The competition got tougher for this session and our two regular-season losses were good enough only for third place in our division. Only the top two teams in each division were eligible for trophy competition. This was sad because I thought we played better in the second session than we had in the first. Because we finished the season out of the running for a trophy, it was hard to measure the depth of our improvement. This session also presented me with my first major discipline problem. Four of the lads had their hearts set on seeing a U2 concert in early March. The concert fell on a Thursday, our regular game night. The four (Ed, Henry, Rich and Greg) informed me of the conflict the week before the concert and said that they were not sure if they could play that night. Since we had a 7:30 pm kickoff for the night in question, I asked them if it was possible to do both. The concert was due to start at 8:30. Because there was a warm-up band scheduled and because no concert ever starts on time, it didn't seem unreasonable for them to play soccer and then go to the concert afterwards. The response of the four to this compromise was, "We'll see."
My team rule concerning absences was simple: If you can't make practice or a game, you are required to call me in advance. Messages delivered second-hand were not acceptable. The excuse of "I couldn't get a hold of you" didn't hold water because I provided all players with both my home and work phone numbers. In all the time I have coached the Byki, I have never questioned the validity of any excused absence. All a player has to do is call. The policy was so simple, in fact, that I never even bothered to think of a punishment in the event that the rule was broken.
The situation was complicated by the fact that several players were out of the lineup already. Mark Sokolowski, George Twardowski and Andy Wojtkowski were nursing injuries and John Starkowski was vacationing in Europe. I did not relish having to lose four more players, including my starting and backup goalkeepers. As luck would have it, our opponent for that game was none other than our new-found nemesis, the Warriors. As game day approached, all was silent from the concertgoers and I assumed that they accepted my suggestion and would be at the game. After all, they were well aware of our personnel situation and knew what the team would be left with in their absence. It was not until the night before the game that I learned from a third party that all four were blowing off the match. I was shocked to think that they could leave their teammates high and dry. Finding out on such short notice made it virtually impossible to get replacements, even if I did know enough soccer players to fill the vacant spots.
Instead, I began devising new tactics with the players I had. Our lineup against the Warriors looked like this: Stef, Chops, Paul Grajnert, Chris, Mark Rys, Chuck Dzieciol (whom I activated for this emergency) and myself. This would leave us with exactly one substitute for the entire match. I decided to play as conservatively as possible. My goal for us was to play for a tie. I wanted the time to run off the clock as quickly as possible. A 0-0 scoreline would have been perfect, though unlikely in the high-flying indoor game. Because it would be just the seven of us, it was easy to get each individual player to understand what was going on. I wanted us to do whatever it would take to slow the tempo down to a crawl. I would worry about my tactics for the four deserters until after the match.
It was a listless night of sleep before this game. I was just hoping that we could avoid total embarrassment. As we took the field, I had a distinct feeling that my head was about to be handed to me. The guys, however, had faith in my game plan and were confident that it would work. Things didn't look any better when I saw the Warriors take the field. They brought their full complement and then some. They apparently remembered the last match and prepared themselves for a tough game.
Chris volunteered to start the game in goal. I didn't want to do this because Chris was one of our best field players. On the other hand, I didn't have much to choose from when it came to a goalie, so Chris wound up talking me into it. Once the game started, things moved along a lot better than I had anticipated. I stole a pass at the Warrior red line and spotted the keeper well off of his line. I sent a left-footed looper over his head which found its way into the net. With only five minutes gone, we already had one more goal than I thought we would get. With a 1-0 lead, my conservative strategy turned ultra-conservative. A draw in this match would have been great, but now we had a goal we could sit on.
We advanced the ball ponderously up the field and then back-passed at the first hint of trouble. Chris screamed his head off calling for the ball and every pass that went back to him ticked off a few more precious seconds. At one point, Chris put the ball down in front of him in his own penalty area and just stood there, waiting for something to happen. The Warriors complained to the referee for delay of game, but the ball was on the ground, free for any player to come after it. At one point, Chris stood fully for 20 seconds before an opponent approached him. We got to the end of the first period clinging to our one-goal lead.
Fate intervened at this point when a spectator, seeing that we were short of players, came up to me and asked me if I had an extra shirt for him. We had seen him watching some of our games in the past. A Polish fellow, he apparently was drawn to us when he saw "Stare Byki" written on our uniforms. He was known to us only as Andrzej. I quickly gave him Chuck's shirt and was grateful for any help I could get. Andrzej was not on our roster and I was risking a forfeit by letting him play. But I figured there really was nothing to lose, with the team in such dire straits. There was a good chance that the Warriors wouldn't even bother to check the roster since this wasn't a playoff game.
Andrzej was just the spark we needed. He turned out to be an excellent player. His presence allowed everybody to get a little breather. The Warriors, however, were on to our game and stepped up their attack. Before long, they knocked in three goals to take a 3-1 lead into the third period. Andrzej got one back early in the third to make it 3-2. I then changed places with Chris, figuring that his fresh legs could make the difference. How right I was; he set up Andrzej for the equalizer with only minutes left in regulation. Andrzej scored the game-winner in the first minute of sudden-death overtime.
We were delirious with excitement following this great victory. Not only had we avoided a slaughter, but we came from behind to steal two points for this win. It really was a steal, too. I found out after the game that Andrzej was more than just an interested Polish spectator; he was a player for the Outlanders, one of the teams in our league. His participation in our match was highly illegal, but fortunately for us, highly unnoticed. With all of the trophies and championships that the team has won, this match still stands out for me as Stare Byki FC's greatest win ever. Considering the conditions and the players involved, the result was absolutely phenomenal. The players executed my tactics just as I dictated. Their strict adherence to the game plan made me very proud of each player and his effort. I would not have felt any differently had we lost. Even though it took a player from the outside to do it, this result showed that there is no replacement for hard work and execution. My coaching philosophy has always been, play your very best and the winning and losing take care of themselves. This night was one where every player did indeed play his very best.
Once the euphoria had died down, I had to get to the matter of the four players who had gone AWOL. It turned out that not one of them called to tell me that they weren't coming to play. I was incensed first by their lack of common courtesy and second by their lack of regard for their teammates. They didn't help themselves any further by blowing off the following Sunday's practice. I had expected an explanation by that time, but none came. I was mad enough before the fateful game, but their continued insolence was pushing me to my limit. After some contemplation, I concluded that I wanted only players whom I could rely on and that the actions of these four were an example of extreme unreliability as well as a slap in the face of their teammates. Even though three of them were essential to the team's success, I felt I had no other choice but to give all of them the heave-ho. No player could be bigger than the team.
Naturally, the other players were not pleased with the four vagabonds, but still wanted to maintain the competitive level we had worked so hard to achieve. After a long discussion at practice, the rest of the team convinced me to let the four remain on the club. The team also decided that each player would be suspended for one game. So as not to leave the team shorthanded again, the players would sit out one at a time. The punishment was fair and did not undermine the integrity of the club for the remainder of the season.
When the four players were finally faced with explaining their behavior, they made vague claims about having definitely informed me of their absence the week before the concert. This didn't wash, because they "informed" me in the locker room, in front of the rest of the team. No one else on the club seemed to remember them saying that they definitely were going to miss the game. The foursome were relieved to still be a part of the team.
I found out later why none of those boobs bothered to call me about their being absent. They apparently were afraid I might get mad at them and so they were too chicken to pick up the telephone. I had to wonder what was going through their cobwebbed brains. Sure, their absence would have made me mad. But if I had known ahead of time that they weren't going to be there, I might have made other arrangements. Having no notice made that impossible. Did they really think I would be less angry if they blew the team off without calling? Although there were some private grumblings from the infamous quartet concerning the suspensions, the incident was an experience of maturation for the players involved, their teammates and their coach. It took me a while to look past my anger and outrage, but I was at least eventually able to forgive, if not forget.