A few weeks ago, A surprised me when he asked if he could help me coach our winter swim program. I had some serious reservations. First and foremost, I know the amount of time coaching takes up, and I was worried about how much he already had on his plate. Secondly, he seemed to be under the impression that it would be an “easy” way to get some volunteer hours. Finally, fresh off dealing with some of his famous teenage know-it-all attitude, I was reluctant to entertain a scenario where he was going to tell me I was wrong in front of 40 other little kids.

On the other hand, free help is hard to find, and since I am his ride home from the pool every night, I was guaranteed to have the upper hand at the end of the day. I also know the benefit of having a real, live varsity swimmer on deck with a bunch of young, impressionable new swimmers. Having been that swimmer back in the day, I knew that A had a real chance to be a role model for the younger kids, one that I as an old, dumpy, middle-age swim coach just couldn’t muster anymore.

Before I said yes or no, A and I sat down for a long talk, very similar to the one we had years ago when he decided that he didn’t want to swim for another coach in another program, and he wanted me to be his coach. I explained that there were boundaries between me being Mom and me being the coach in charge on deck. There was absolutely no room for him to question my authority while we were on deck in front of the team. Not that I didn’t want him to ask plenty of questions, but he needed to understand the time and the place, and how to ask the questions.

I was also curious as to why he suddenly had an interest in helping out, and if he realized how many hours a week he would need to commit. It turns out that he discovered that colleges like it when “you show them that you not only have knowledge, but you can share it.”

Yes, my sophomore in high school is already conscientious of what it’s going to take to set him apart from the rest of the pack and how to build his resume to make himself more appealing to colleges. That topic brought us back to my original concern: keeping his grades up.

All the volunteer hours in the world aren’t going to matter if his grades aren’t where they should be. A assured me that he would take advantage of his study hall time and time after school before practice to work on his homework, and ultimately, if he had too much work, he would have to take the night off coaching.

Like most things A does, he had already put a lot of thought into it and had most of the answers. It can be a little aggravating when he does that and he turns out to be right. I still had reservations, but I was willing to give him a chance.

As expected, he left his first practice proclaiming that he was never, ever, ever having kids. I laughed and laughed and laughed. I had fully expected that response, as every single new coach I’ve ever worked with has walked out of their first practice saying the same thing. I always enjoyed sending congratulations when, years later, they welcomed their first child. I reminded A that I’d said the same thing, and look at him, and his brother and sister, now.

The first night of any kid sports practice is guaranteed to test the patience of even the most seasoned of coaches and volunteers. Since this was our first full-fledged return to the pool since the spring of 2020, it was absolutely bananas. I was thrilled that so many of our old swimmers came back with enthusiastic attitudes, ready to get back to doing their thing, and I was also thrilled that we had so many new recruits.

A was not expecting the chaos. He was also a little confounded when despite his explicit directions, kids didn’t always listen to him. Oh, how I wish I had had the time to sit back and enjoy those interactions! Sweet, sweet, sweet revenge!

He showed up the next night, not only full of enthusiasm, now that he knew to expect controlled chaos, but determined to remember everyone’s name, and with a few ideas of his own for how to run practice. Twenty-four hours does not a swim coach make, so I had a little fun, and moved the kids into different lanes, and mixed things up a bit.

A was also introduced to the world of highly fashionable swimmers, who wear a different matching cap and suit to practice every night. His plan of remembering the kid with the blue suit and the green cap went down the drain.

One thing I love about having kids coach is that it helps their own understanding of the mechanics of swimming immensely. If you can understand something well enough to break it down so a 5-year-old can understand it, you can probably do it pretty well yourself. As I’ve watched A’s confidence grow, I’ve also seen his attention to things like his own hand placement and body position increase.

I’ve impressed upon him the importance of demonstrating things properly. If he shows the kids how to do something with bad form, it’s Murphy’s Law that that will be the single thing that they pay attention to and incorporate into their own strokes.

Sharing something you love with someone you love is a great way to rekindle your own passion for an activity, and after three weeks of practices, A hasn’t decided to quit yet. I’m not quite ready to call his coaching career a success, but I think it’s safe to say that he’s going to stick around for the rest of the season.

He still has a lot of skills to develop, like the ability to have eyes in the back of his head and being able to correct three kids at the same time while fixing a pair of goggles, and answering a parent’s questions about suit sizes, but he’s getting there.

As one of the little cherubs was leaving practice the other night, he yelled out, “Bye, Coach A!” A tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help but crack a giant smile. It was the first time he had been singled out as “Coach.” As he sauntered over to me, he smirked and said, “I guess I’m official now.” Coach Liz wanted to lecture him about what it means to earn that title, but Mom Liz shut her up and just let him enjoy his moment. Seems like Coach A isn’t the only one learning things on deck.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.