Game Time

I’m spending this Fall coaching boys soccer this Fall, and it's complete chaos. Second grade boys are insane. They throw dirt clods at and tackle each other, ask me if I want to trade Pokemon cards with them during scrimmages. They do an amazing number of things during practice, very little of which I could favorably call soccer. I'm amazed no one else wanted to coach.

Don't get me wrong though, I'd rather be on the field than the sidelines. I actually like the low-stakes chaos, it's a nice wind down from work. And the animal trainer in me loves having a whistle as an aversive stimulus during unsanctioned wrestling matches.

I wish my stethoscope had a built-in whistle. I might have used it last week when a client repeatedly asked me for a dose of turmeric for her dog's back pain. No amount of explanation seemed to convince her of the impossibility of a science-based answer to that question. I'd have called a timeout if I could have.

I thought hers was the wildest imagination I'd experience for a while, but then during a soccer scrimmage a few days later, a kid strutted onto the field squawking like a chicken and clutching his plush axolotl under one arm (wing). 

Hmm, who actually is further from reality?

Honestly, it’s a toss up. Both Turmeric Lady and Chicken Boy were in separate branches of the multiverse. I was in the one that I think is reality, but only because I believe in things like science-based medicine and rules of the game and things like that. If the chicken had been in the vet clinic, well that would have made more sense.

But how was I gonna help Mrs. “What’s Wrong Exactly and Can We Fix it with Brightly Colored Spices”? Maybe she really was just from a different planet. But the very, very weird thing is that I was lucky enough to remember the same strategy in both cases.

And it worked.

See, coaching youth/poultry soccer is not so dissimilar to working in a vet clinic. I don’t mean that kids need to be muzzled or that clients need to be bribed with Pokemon cards for participation, or anything. I mean that they're both team sports.

The smartest thing I did in both cases was throw out my pre-conceived notion of how things were supposed to go. Just because I know the rules doesn't mean that everyone else does. If I were just a ref, or just a vet, and all I cared about was executing my part as well as possible, then I guess the overall outcome wouldn't really matter. I could wash my hands of the end result.

But that's not what I want. I want us all to win. For the kids, that might mean everyone feels invited and enthusiastic about a game. At times, it just means everyone's shoelaces stay tied for more than a minute. And in the vet clinic, winning is a plan that both my client and I are happy with. It doesn't have to be gold standard medicine and flawless clinical skills every time.

So I make sure they feel invited in. I find out what they want, and I non-judgmentally understand myself enough to know how I'm willing to work with them.

Works most of the time. Sometimes somebody’s just gonna keep impersonating a hen in left field and there's not much you can do about it.

But fortunately the standards for second-grade soccer coaches are absurdly minimal. I only need a third-grade knowledge of soccer to spot “deficiencies” and work to fill them in. With veterinary clients too, it doesn't take much. We already have evidence showing communication strategies can help our clients win at a game called “Be Happy With My Vet”.¹

I’m here to help get us through it. I don’t mind being the coach, or the veterinarian. It’s what I chose to do (or didn’t think too hard about my future headaches before committing to). 

It’s my job to know the rules and make sure that everyone enjoys the experience as much as possible. If they keep playing, they'll get better.

Chicken Boy with his stuffed salamander and Turmeric Lady recounting the myriad qualities of the over-the-counter-orange-powder² may not realize they're playing a game, but that’s okay. I’m the one with the stethoscope or the whistle around my neck. I’ll happily nudge the kid in a more “soccer-like” direction, and happily explain to the woman why turmeric is a medically faulty treatment recommendation.

If they feel like they’re my teammate, they’ll probably want to play too. 

1. Shared decision-making is evidence-based, and combines veterinary expertise with client preferences, fostering trust and collaboration, which leads to higher client satisfaction by promoting understanding, empowerment, and mutual agreement on care. See (Ito Y, Ishikawa H, Suzuki A, Kato M. The relationship between evaluation of shared decision-making by pet owners and veterinarians and satisfaction with veterinary consultations. BMC Veterinary Research. 2022 Aug 2;18(1):296.)
2. Disclaimer: If you're a turmeric enthusiast, no offense intended! While turmeric has its place in the spice rack and some wellness trends, it’s not a cure-all—especially for your pet’s medical issues. Always consult your veterinarian before swapping meds for herbs. And as for the language, it’s all in good humor!