Coach Brian Warman gives a halftime talk to Jessica's team.

"If you can ever find us, please do," he said.

It's all part and parcel with club soccer: different families needing different things being offered by different coaches, often in different towns with starkly different uniforms.

So I was thinking if I was going to write about a particular soccer family, maybe I'd hit up the Warmans — an Anaheim family whose patriarch, Brian Warman, is the president of Canyon PSA. I asked Brian's wife, Tracy, if I could chat with the family sometime.

"Absolutely," she said, "We'll all be at Villa Park High School Sunday at nine.”

And on Sunday, there they were: Nine-year-old Jessica was playing in a Spring League game for her PSA team. Sister Megan, 13, who didn't have a game to play with her G96 PSA squad Sunday, was sitting on the team bench in support.

Tracy — a veteran team manager now in charge of the club’s spirit wear — was on the sideline with her palms cupped around her face in constant motherly fashion.

Brian, the club president and field coordinator, was coaching the game.

Grandfather, John, was in on the act, too: stalking the sideline as his son’s assistant coach.

And, yes, the Warmans do have a child who doesn't play soccer. Son, Tyler, 15. He referees soccer.

This was a typical Sunday for the Warmans — who were all accounted for at the Villa Park pitch, save Tyler, who got called in for a seven-game, weekend-long refereeing spree.

Brian, Megan and Tracy (back row) celebrate with Jessica (first row, second from right) and her team.

Soccer is the ultimate conduit for this family that does just about everything together. Tracy estimates the game encompasses about 80 percent of their life, and happily so. When not in their spirit gear, Brian teaches sixth grade and Tracy runs a family bar code printing business called Accugraphix.

Brian’s father John helped kick off the family’s soccer mania by playing the game in high school, which by his own admission was a bit unusual in those days.

“Now it’s a carry-on of this family’s tradition, multiplied by three or four or five,” John said.

Tracy and Brian both grew up on soccer, and the subject wound up saving the day as the conversation topic when the two first met years ago. Besides growing a soccer-loving family, not too much has changed since then, either.

They do remember “one Sunday” when they didn’t have any soccer plans. Brian and Tracy grabbed some coffee and headed to Riverdale Elementary to check on the PSA-run field. They wound up staying all day watching games.

The Warmans have been with the mid-sized Canyon PSA club for five years, Brian going into his second year as president. Splitting up the family into different clubs — a not unpopular move in club soccer — has never occurred to them.

“It’s just not happening,” said Tracy, who noted that Megan has seen opportunities from other clubs come her way. “Then you’re not doing the same stuff together. It’s so much easier when everyone’s in the same place and on the same page.”

The close-knit environment Canyon PSA endorses is a big reason why the Warmans are always together — be it in the family living room or the sideline of Jessica’s game.

PSA Director of Coaching Eddie Carrillo, also the head coach of the Chapman University men’s team, and others have created a family atmosphere at the club that includes club-wide banquets, picnics and even a soccer-thon: an annual all-night/wee-small-hours-of-the-morning indoor tournament held inside the Chapman gymnasium.

Those micro and macro senses of family can help loosen any tug coming from another club.

Megan whispers on to Tyler while watching a game.

“If you have families that are connected, it’s more likely that team will stay together,” says Tracy. “We look at it as these are our life-long friends. And these are the kids our kids are going to have memories of.”

So Canyon PSA looks to get all of its parents involved.

“It’s like a long-term family,” Brian said. “That’s the way we want to keep it.”

The club suits Megan and Jessica just fine, too. Both love where they play and wouldn’t dream of going elsewhere, though Jessica does entertain thoughts of jumping ship for another team.

“I’d like to play in the pro league with Marta,” she admits.

Megan, meanwhile, is staying put.

“I wouldn’t want to go to another club,” she said. “[PSA] is not too big and not too small. We’re all good friends here and we all know each other.”

Being together at home, as well as on the fields, appeals greatly to the Warman kids, even though sometimes ‘together’ takes on a whole new meaning.

Tyler, who’s been reffing since he and grandpa John both got certified when he was 12, has been charged with blowing the whistle during Jessica’s games on more than one occasion.

“Sometimes my brother causes chaos,” said Jessica about Tyler, who wasn’t on hand Sunday to defend himself.

Tyler gives Jessica a little talk on the field.

“He doesn’t need any help,” Megan said.

While Tyler also helps run PSA’s soccer camps and events, reffing suits him well, as he seems to have an enviable talent for not hearing voices on the sidelines.

“He got practice by not listening to his mom,” Tracy joked.

Like his sisters, Tyler thrives in the Warman soccer environment, believing the game and the family's involvement with PSA gives them one valuable thing in common. And while he also helps run PSA’s soccer camps and events, reffing suits him well, as he seems to have an enviable talent for not hearing voices on
the sidelines.

"Loud sisters kind of train me to drown out the sound on the field and not be able to hear the coaches or the spectators," said Tyler later in a telephone interview.

"It's also given me a real good perspective on how to look at the game," he said. "Usually the only way a person sees the game is on the sideline, as a coach, parent or player. Refereeing is a whole different experience."

So what happens out there when big brother’s got the whistle and a fistful of yellow cards?

“It’s sort of fun,” Jessica recalls with a 9-year-old grin you have to adore but can't completely trust. “I can say whatever I want to. But he’ll tell my parents.”