Hubert was my coach, mentor, and life-long friend. I met him for the first time in 1981 at a soccer camp in Chico, California. He asked me at the end of the camp if I wanted to attend his new 3-week academy on the East Coast. I eagerly said “yes,” thinking that he meant the next summer. He meant the next week. So, off I went on my first airplane flight with this strange man from Austria. I said goodbye to my parents and felt my stomach tighten in terror.
I participated in Hubert’s soccer camps for 6 to 7 weeks every summer from 1981 to 1987. I went to Europe, Brazil, and China on his soccer tours, where I met notable players such as Pele and Johan Cruyff. Because of my technical ability, I was often used to demonstrate skills. Hubert demanded absolute silence during these moments, in part so campers would pay close attention but more importantly, so you could hear the difference between a good and a bad touch. Still today, I know without looking if a trap, shot, or even dribble is done correctly. The sound of the touch does not lie. What Hubert called the “sweet spot” for the perfect instep also made a “sweet thud,” which we recognized.
Hubert came from a lineage of technical masters. He trained under the Austrian Hugo Meisl, a student of the great Jimmy Hogan. Hubert attended the first U.S. Soccer Federation coaching licensing course emphasizing skill development. Skill development has mostly fallen off the radar in today’s coaching courses, which made Hubert’s camps so important in comparison.
Hubert was demanding and blunt. He did not coddle players. However, despite his intense pressure for perfection, I never felt demeaned. I knew the criticism on the field was serving the purpose of making me a better player and better person. He would shake his fist at me on the field when I appeared lazy or unfocused, but later, we chummed around and joked. Although soccer coaching was his lifeblood, he believed that human connection was still important. When I lived in his hometown of La Jolla, CA, for a year as a senior in high school, we boogie-boarded in the ocean and played pick-up soccer together on weekends. He went to my high school soccer games and watched from the corner. He did not need to speak about what he saw, since by then I could also hear the meaning of his gaze. Hubert taught me several lessons. For example, he would scold me to “get out of your comfort zone” anytime I seemed confident in a skill. This message was deeply internalized! Throughout my life, I have continually sought new challenges and new skills to learn. Another teaching centered on repeating that “the one-eyed man is a king among the blind.” He said this anytime he intuited that I felt better than the players around me. I learned to keep my head down and not compare myself with others, but always seek improvement regardless of my success.
In my last visit with Hubert in 2016, he shared how his mother had twice put him in foster care and that he went to his first professional soccer tryout barefoot. This rough upbringing explained why he never accepted excuses. Life gave us variables, sometimes tough ones, but nothing was insurmountable. Once, while walking back to the dorms with a swollen knee from a recent surgery, Hubert drove past me in his golf cart and remarked that I should not be limping since I had not played well in the evening game. When I was still in middle school, my mother questioned Hubert if my flying alone from one coast to the other through large airports was wise. He bluntly said, “He speaks English, doesn’t he?” meaning I could ask for help if needed. Not allowing room for excuses in myself or others is another Hubert lesson—one that has seen me through many challenging situations, like developing a top premier soccer club on an island in northern Maine.
My last contact with Hubert was related to my coaching book, which included new methods to perfect skills. He said he couldn’t put it down.
Comments