Organizing a scrimmage soccer match might seem straightforward—just get some players, a ball, and a field, right? But as a coach with over a decade of experience working with youth and amateur teams, I’ve learned that a well-structured scrimmage is an art form. It’s the single most powerful tool in your training arsenal, far more impactful than endless drills if done correctly. The goal isn’t just to run the players ragged for 90 minutes; it’s to create a focused, competitive environment that translates directly to match-day performance. I always recall a sentiment I once heard from a seasoned player, which perfectly captures the mindset we want to foster: “Kahit namang sino nandu’n, lahat naman may masasabi. Ako, maglalaro lang ako para sa team ko para matulungan sila at para maka-angat kami.” It translates to, “Whoever is there, everyone will have something to say. I will just play for my team to help them and so we can rise up.” That’s the spirit. My job as a coach is to construct the framework where that team-first, growth-oriented mentality can thrive, blocking out the noise and focusing on collective improvement.
First, you need absolute clarity on the why. Is this scrimmage about evaluating new players in a 4-3-3 system? Is it about practicing a high-press trigger for the first 25 minutes after a goal? Or is it simply about building fitness and chemistry? I never organize a scrimmage without a primary and a secondary objective. Let’s say my main focus is defensive shape in transition. I’ll brief both teams on that specific theme for a solid 10 minutes before kickoff. I might even start the game with a condition: any time the defending team wins the ball cleanly in their own final third and completes five consecutive passes, they get an automatic goal. It sounds quirky, but it works wonders. Suddenly, players aren’t just booting it clear; they’re thinking, communicating, and executing under pressure—which is the whole point. I’m a big believer in using constraints to guide behavior rather than just shouting instructions from the sideline. For a typical U16 or adult amateur squad, I’ve found that dedicating about 65% of a 2-hour training session to a themed scrimmage yields the best retention of tactical concepts.
Logistics are where many good intentions fall apart. You need the right numbers. An 11v11 on a full pitch is great for realism, but if you only have 18 players, the intensity drops. My personal preference, and what I consider the gold standard for training, is to create multiple small-sided games. A 7v7 on a shortened, widened pitch forces more touches, quicker decisions, and relentless transition—it’s brutally effective for fitness and technique. If I have 24 players, I’ll set up two simultaneous 6v6 games on adjacent fields, maybe with a floating player or two. This keeps engagement high and waiting time at zero. Always, always have a surplus of balls around the perimeter. There’s nothing that kills momentum faster than a 45-second walk to retrieve a single ball. I aim for at least one ball every 3-4 players on the sidelines. And don’t forget the simple things: clearly marked boundaries (cones are your best friend), proper goals (portable ones are fine), and a distinct color system for bibs. I’ve seen a promising session derailed by “Is he on our team?” confusion. It’s a basic fix that speaks to professional preparation.
The role of the coach during the scrimmage is subtle. It’s a balancing act. You’re not the center referee; in fact, I often let minor fouls go to keep the flow, unless player safety is at risk. My position is rarely static. I move along the touchline, observing specific players or units based on our pre-set objective. I might freeze play three or four times in a half to make a quick, pointed correction. “Stop! Look at our spacing here. John, you’re isolated because our midfield line is 15 yards too deep. Let’s reset from this position.” It’s immediate, contextual feedback. But here’s my controversial take: I talk much less than many coaches. I want the players to solve problems. That quote about playing for the team to rise up? It only happens if they communicate with each other, not just listen to me. I’ll interject to guide, but the dialogue must be primarily between them. Sometimes, I’ll even assign a captain on each team to be the main communicator for that session.
Finally, the debrief is non-negotiable. The learning is cemented not in the exhaustion of the final whistle, but in the 5-10 minute conversation that follows. Gather them in, while they’re still breathing heavily, and connect the dots. “Remember our theme was defensive transition? Let’s watch this 30-second clip from my phone. See how we won it here and immediately found the forward pass? That’s exactly what we want. And contrast it with this moment where we won it but gave it right back.” Use positive reinforcement first, then an area for growth. Ask them questions. “What did you feel was working when we maintained possession?” This turns the scrimmage from a game into a deliberate practice session. I’ll often send a brief summary via our team app later, maybe with a stat like “We forced 12 turnovers in their attacking half today, up from an average of 7 last month,” to show tangible progress.
In the end, a scrimmage is a microcosm of your team’s culture. If it’s chaotic and unfocused, that’s what you’ll get on Saturday. If it’s structured, competitive, and geared towards a collective “rise,” as that player’s philosophy so eloquently put it, then you’re building something far greater than just match fitness. You’re building a team that understands the why behind the what, a group that can block out the external noise—because everyone will have something to say—and focus on the only opinions that truly matter: those of the teammates they are working to help. That’s the ultimate win, long before any official match begins.