By JOE DANA
Rumor has it head coach Chris Watkins has a little plywood house nestled in a tree at South Field where his Cougars met and played club soccer this season.
There his boys huddled after school, threw down their backpacks, and kicked the ball around. Weekly dues were collected in a shoebox. The club members had nicknames like “The Mexican Connection” and “Cobra”. They even had a motto: Play together or go to the U. They also played rival clubs from down the street, like bully Weber State. And they also won the whole thing.
That’s the rumor, at least.
And so came and went another men’s club soccer season, known to a core 1,000 or so faithful fans but oblivious to the rest of the BYU community.
O.K. so perhaps the men’s club soccer team isn’t completely oblivious — it had more attendance than most sanctioned NCAA teams, but they certaintly are misunderstood. This is something few realize.
It has won five championships in six seasons — a baffling feat in any sports arena. But there is a reason that the Cougar can kickers don’t get more respect.
They’re only a club.
The word is mumbled under the breath, and it curses the team every time they have more success.
And that’s a lot of cursing.
Simply put, being a club team means no money from the university, less attention from the BYU powers that be, and less respect than the NCAA sanctioned teams.
“After you win four championships it just gets more frustrating because you know what you could be accomplishing on the Divsion-I level,” coach Watkins said.
The players don’t show it though. They’re just happy to be playing soccer.
As a club, they really did meet after school everyday, and they really did get dirty like a bunch of squirmy field rats. And dues? The players paid them. During the ’99 season Watkins’ shoebox was filled with sweat, smelly sprained ankle tape, and even blood — all for the cause of BYU.
There is an admiration naturally felt by anyone that followed this under-rated, self-financed, grass roots group. One can call them a club, with negative connotations, if they want. But it many ways it suggests even more respect, not less. Over half of the players could have played on the Division I level with scholarships. But instead they decided to go to BYU and join the club.
That decision reflects a simple love for the game and a love for the school and what it represents. You will find no more pure motives for playing on a BYU team than for those on the BYU club soccer team. While players from other teams on BYU campus are stocked with warmups, paraphanelia, and a nice full ride scholarship, the BYU soccer team does everything but mow the stadium lawn.
The team also promoted its own games. Though the sanctioned teams at BYU have an athletic relations department, the soccer team spent their time passing out coupons between classes to advertise themselves. Nothing is handed over to these guys.
Even the championship plaques, the ones they won just last weekend, will cost each player money if they want to have one. Didn’t know a national title costed $49.99 did you? Well actually it costed a lot more than that.
And so is the life of a non-sanctioned team on BYU campus. They’ll continue winning championship after championship, and they’ll continue paying their dues.
