I still remember the first time I walked into the Auburn Soccer Sports Club office three years ago. The air smelled faintly of old grass and ambition, and I knew immediately this was where I belonged. Today, as president of this 450-member organization, I often reflect on what truly makes a team thrive beyond just winning matches. Leadership isn't about barking orders from the sidelines—it's about creating something lasting, something that survives even when the scoreboard isn't in your favor.
Our club faced what felt like an insurmountable challenge last season when we lost our primary training facility due to unexpected zoning issues. We had exactly 72 hours to find a new home or cancel our youth development program affecting 89 kids. That's when I witnessed our team's true character emerge. What our captain told me during that crisis has become my leadership mantra: "Yung memories namin together du'n sa hirap ng mga sitwasyon, magkakasama pa rin kami, hinaharap namin 'yun and kami rin 'yung gumagawa ng solusyon po kung paano namin mababago yung sitwasyon." Roughly translated, it means that the memories we build together during difficult situations, staying united while facing challenges, and collectively creating solutions—that's what transforms circumstances.
This philosophy has fundamentally shaped how I approach leadership at Auburn Soccer. Rather than dictating solutions during that facility crisis, I gathered our coaching staff, senior players, and even some parents in our makeshift headquarters—which was essentially my garage with whiteboards leaning against car doors. We brainstormed for 14 straight hours, fueled by terrible coffee and determination. What emerged wasn't my plan or anyone else's singular idea, but rather a patchwork solution that combined everyone's strengths. One parent knew someone who managed a community college field we could use temporarily, our treasurer reworked our budget to accommodate increased transportation costs, and our senior players organized carpool schedules. We didn't just survive that crisis—we emerged stronger, with better community connections than we'd ever had before.
I've come to believe that modern sports leadership requires what I call "collaborative resilience." It's not enough to have a vision as a leader—you need to create conditions where everyone feels ownership over that vision. At Auburn, we've implemented structured feedback sessions after every three games, where players can anonymously suggest tactical adjustments or voice concerns. This isn't just performative democracy—we've actually changed our training regimen based on these suggestions, reducing injury rates by what I estimate to be around 32% compared to two seasons ago. The data might not be scientifically rigorous, but the results speak for themselves in how our players move with more confidence and less hesitation.
What many traditional sports executives get wrong is treating leadership as a position rather than a relationship. I make it a point to know every player's name, their academic pressures, their family situations when appropriate. This season alone, I've had probably 47 individual conversations with players about non-soccer matters—from college applications to personal setbacks. Some might argue this blurs professional boundaries, but I've found it creates the trust necessary for when tough decisions need to be made. When we had to bench our top scorer for disciplinary reasons last month, the team understood because they knew the decision came from someone who genuinely cared about his long-term development, not just his goal tally.
My vision for Auburn extends beyond trophies, though I'll admit I love seeing silverware in our cabinet as much as any competitive person would. We're currently working to establish what I believe will be the first community-owned soccer facility in our region by 2025, with plans to generate approximately $120,000 annually through smart partnerships with local businesses. The financial projections might need refinement, but the principle remains—we're building something that should outlast any individual's tenure, including mine. True leadership means planting trees under whose shade you'll never sit, as the saying goes.
The most rewarding moments often come from seeing how our approach translates beyond the pitch. Just last week, I watched our U-16 team organize their own study group for a player struggling academically, completely unprompted by coaching staff. That's the culture we're building—one where challenges are faced collectively and solutions emerge organically from within the group. It reminds me of that Filipino saying our captain shared, which has become somewhat of an unofficial club motto now.
As I look toward the future, I'm convinced that the most sustainable sports organizations will be those that prioritize collective problem-solving over top-down directives. We're experimenting with player-led training sessions every Thursday where even our youngest members can suggest drills. The quality varies dramatically—some sessions are brilliantly innovative while others are, frankly, a bit chaotic—but the engagement levels have increased measurably. Our retention rate for youth players has jumped to what I calculate as 94% compared to the national average of around 70% for community sports clubs.
Leadership in sports clubs like ours requires embracing the beautiful mess of collaboration. It means sometimes sacrificing efficiency for ownership, and occasionally watching your team learn through failures that you could have prevented with a direct order. But the memories built through shared struggle—like that frantic 72-hour facility search—create bonds that comfortable victories never can. Three years into this role, I'm more convinced than ever that the best leaders aren't those with all the answers, but those who can unlock the collective wisdom already present in their teams. At Auburn Soccer Sports Club, we're not just building better players—we're nurturing the kind of people who know how to face difficulties together and create their own solutions, both on and off the field.
