This Is Unfair...Said No True Athlete Ever

   It's rough. It's competitive. It's cut-throat. But it's fair. The idea that sports are unfair is about as wrong as it gets. Sports are inherently fair. In fact, sports may be the most fair thing in all of our lives.
    Each sport has a governing body at every level. From the pros to little league, there's a structure. Much of it is bureaucratic, especially at the youth level, but there's a structure. And generally, the more you put into the organization, the more you get out of it. That's fair.
   Almost every sporting event is officiated. True, some refs are bad. But the event is officiated. And the officials are responsible for overseeing all parties involved. They're actively looking for cheaters and punishing those who cheat. They don't catch everything, but they're looking. That's fair.
   Many teams have tryouts and cuts. The players who are more prepared than others and have greater potential stick around. Those who are less prepared and are less likely to help the team go bye-bye. That might not sound fair to the little kid with the big heart, but I bet your boss wishes she had that structure. And, in many cases, coaches keep less talented players because they add the right attitude to the mix. Sounds fair to me.
   Teams are not selected by seniority, or social status, or level of education. They're selected, in most cases, by productivity and potential. New talent comes along constantly, and roster decisions are made accordingly. It might not benefit all of you, but it's fair.
   Sports have a finite scoring system. Save for a few events that fall into the tend to fall in the "sports" category that have an objective scoring system like gymnastics or synchronized swimming, sports have a very specific and defined way of scoring points and preventing others from scoring points. Those rules are clearly defined and drilled into the heads of all the competitors. That sound to me to be the definition of fair. No points for size, or style. There's no convincing somebody that what happened has a greater value. A 15-foot jumper is worth 2 points if it goes in and zero points if it does not. Fair.
    Sports are meritocracies. Success and potential are rewarded with points, pay and opportunities. Failure and lack of potential usually finds a player on the bench or off the roster. Stinks for the bad players, but it's fair.
    Now, I know what some of you are thinking. "What about the people who are born with natural talent, or size, or quickness. That's not fair." I couldn't disagree more. Here's why.
    We are all born into environments and communities and bodies that are more geared for success in different areas. The son of the accountant who has outstanding match educators at the elementary level and a mathematical brain is probably more likely to end up with a solid start in the financial field than the kid who's parents who were employed in the sanitation field and spent his formative years as the class clown. That's fair.You might now want to believe that, but environment, preparation and the body you were born into help shape your life and your career choices. That's fair.
   But I hear it recently from a young tennis player and her parents. Separate conversations, but the same message came from kid and adult alike. "It's not fair. I/my daughter, had to play against a girl who was way better than me. I/my daughter had no chance.
   Don't be that parent. That girl had every chance in the world to win that tennis match. I watched a match in which nearly 100 points were played. Each one could have been won by either player. They were the same age, in the same grade, at the same event. The better player who was more prepared and more focused won about two-thirds of the points, and ultimately won the match 6-1, 6-1. I didn't see a bad line call. I didn't see any cheating. I saw a fair match. The better player won. 
   Parents fall into the belief that sports are not fair because a given sport will not be the life's work of their child, regardless of how much money they spend of private lessons and travel teams. That line of thinking sounds absurd to me. Every profession requires a skill-set, a mindset, a work ethic, and some luck. They're all different. Some are easier in which to be successful for the skills an individual possesses. Some are more difficult. Some are more desirable. Some are less desirable. But in every field, it takes what it takes to be successful.
    And let's not be mistaken about the fairness of sports. We always hear coaches saying that hard work and dedication to a sport leads to success. It can. It can also lead to disappointment.
   Not every guitar player will lead an exciting life of touring and end up in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Some will be music teachers. Some will give lessons on the side and work a day job. Some will give up the guitar all together. But I've never heard a parent tell me that the guitar is unfair.
    Sports are about fun, growth any healthy competition. Every kid had the chance to compete at some level, and many kids get the chance to compete in and grow through multiple sports at multiple levels. The kids who play on high-dollar travel teams and the kids who play on blacktops all get to have fun, learn and grow. They also have the option to not keep score and just play for fun.
      If you know of anything else more fair than that, hit me up. But there's a good chance that I'm not going to buy what you're selling.

6'10" on 8-foot rims? It's not crazy. He's 12.

The video has gone viral. A 6’10” Canadian boy is playing hoops on 8-foot rims. I saw at least 3-different sports blog sites saying that this is crazy. I mean, he’s 6’10”. He doesn’t even have to jump to dunk. Here's the link.

https://twitter.com/BleacherReport/status/1007252609625939968

                Here’s why it’s not crazy.

                He’s 12 years old. So are the other boys on the court. Some are 11. And if I know anything about how some organizations put teams together, I’d bet a few of the kids in the league are 10-year-olds.

                Athletic fundamentals rarely change. A good batting stance has been the same for a hundred years. A solid wrist shot in hockey has looked the same since I saw Ron Dugay and Don Maloney playing for the New York Rangers in the early 80’s. The same is true with a jump shot. But as parents and coaches, we often accept poor fundamentals in an effort to rush kids into playing against better competitors who happen to be older.

                Here’s the cautionary tale of a young athlete I had the chance to work with a few moons ago. For the sake of story, we will call him “Mike.”

                At 10 years old, Mike loved basketball. He was a better dribbler than almost everyone in his small town, and he was as fast as most of the boys 2 and 3 years his senior. Mike and his family decided to have Mike try out of for a team made up of primarily 13 and 14 year olds. Mike made the team!

                One small problem though. Mike couldn’t reach the rim. After all, he was small for a 10-year-old. These kids played on the same sized court at the local HS kids… with 10-foot rims. So, to be productive, Mike adjusted his jump shot. Instead of shooting from his shoulder, Mike dropped the ball down to his hip when he shot so he could reach the rim. And it worked.

                In fact, Mike got pretty god at shooting from his hip. He became one of the better scorers on that team of much older boys. The coach loved it. Mike loved it. Everyone was happy. Everyone but the local high school coaches who cringed when they saw Mike’s release point. They knew just how easy that would be to defend at the high school level. Just stick your hand out and you’ll block that shot.

                Mike stuck with that release because it was working for him. He was able to get open enough that other kids that didn’t have the skillset of a high school player couldn’t block his shot. He put up huge number as a middle schooler, thanks in part to his unique jump shot.

He lived in a densely-populated area with multiple options for high school. He chose to attend the high school where he could start at point guard as a freshman. He made a major impact at his high school basketball team right away. Another coach in another program might was helped Mike fix his jump shot for long-term success, but this coach was elated to have success he had not seen at that school.

                Fast forward four years, and Mike is the all-time leading scorer in school history. He’s also the school’s all-time leader in steals. Mike’s family was thinking scholarship, but college coaches saw Kryptonite. That release was enough to turn off the recruiting video and move on to the next kid.

                Mike eventually ended up of a division III roster. He never made it into a game. After one season, he was cut from the team.

                A few years later, I had the chance to work with the college coach who cut Mike. He told me that if Mike worked to fix that release, or never fell into that bad habit in the first place, he could have been a good college player, possibly even a scholarship player at a higher level.

                For Mike, short-term gain was a major long-term loss.

                So, for the 6’10” kid playing on 8-foot rims, it’s not as crazy as it looks. He’s probably the only kid in the league taller than 5’7” or so. He’s the exception, not the rule. He’s 12. And, when shooting jump shots, his right hand starts above his shoulder.

Now, let’s think of  the 9 other kids on the court. They get to learn two tremendous lessons.

1.       They won’t have a release like Mike.

2.       Sometimes, somebody else is bigger, faster, stronger or just plain better. They’re learning to come to terms with that and find a way to be successful with the skills they have.

Their jump shot may never matter in life. But that second lesson will likely stick with them for the rest of their lives.

What's an athlete's best ability? Dependability

                When a young athlete makes a mistake, the parents of the kid who was not playing that position often chip in with their two cents. “My kid could have made that play.” And in many cases, they’re right. A different player attempting to make the same play in the same situation could have yielded a different result on that particular play. But it’s the parents of the other kid who have made a much bigger error.

                Every athlete makes mistakes. Most make too many to count. Some even make mistakes that neither they nor their coach is aware of because they haven’t gotten to that point in their understanding of the game yet. But it’s not avoiding an occasional mistake that good coaches are looking for when assigning roles to athletes. What they’re looking for is who they can count on most frequently to fulfill the most important roles. They want dependable players.

                Some kids are capable of making unbelievable plays, but the routine play is not-so-routine for them.  From a coaches’ perspective, this kid is terrifying. With this athlete, the coach sees three possibilities. First, they see exactly what the player was asked to do. They’re hopeful to see that phenomenal play they’ve seen that player make once or twice. But in the back of their mind, they see the third possibility: Disaster.

                The possibility of disaster is why undisciplined players often lose their job at the professional level to more polished role players who fit a system and do what they’re asked.  Recently, we saw it with the Redskins settling on Kirk Cousins after giving up on Robert Griffin III, who was a world class athlete.

                Disasters are coaches’ worst nightmares. It makes them look bad. It costs them games. In some cases, it costs them their jobs. “Everything was going according to plan, then we make one huge mistake and the game is over. We can’t afford to lose games that way.” I’ve heard coaches say that a million times. They want the most dependable players in control of the ball most often and they want the unpredictable playmakers to get chances to make wonderful plays once in a while, preferably when it would hurt the team the least if they fail.

                As athletes get older, every player is capable of making plays. On a good high school basketball team, every player can catch a pass and put the ball in the basket.  That coach still has to choose a starting point guard. Chances are the player who turns the ball over the least and facilitates the offense the best will get the nod at point.

                So, what makes a player “Dependable” in the eyes of a coach? Here are a few big factors

1.       Know the Role. A good coach has laid out clear expectations for each position. Know those expectations and be able to teach the teammates who can’t remember.

2.       Make Routine Plays Routinely. Every sport has fundamentals. Dependable players don’t need to be reminded of what they are and how they’re done. Coaches don’t wonder whether dependable players will do the little things. They already know.

3.       Take ownership of your mistakes and work diligently to fix them. One of the best college tennis players I ever coached double-faulted on match point once as a freshman. For the next three-and-a-half years, his practice routine ended with 100 2^nd serves. I considered that problem fixed, and I consider that athlete among the most dependable I’ve ever worked with.

4.        Take Practice Seriously. If your team’s most dependable player is regularly late to practice or doesn’t practice hard, your team has serious issues. There may not be a scoreboard at practice, but coach is keeping score in his head. I promise.

5.       Get it done. Even at the youth level, results speak for themselves. Trying doesn’t make you a good player. Trying makes you a good person. Results make you a good player. Coaches depend on players who get the job done.

                 

Train Athletic to be Athletic

       Walk into any commercial gym and you'll see it. There's no shortage of huge, musclebound men that are not the least bit athletic. But when we hear youth and high school coaches talking about kids getting started with strength and conditioning, the first two points of emphasis are "getting stronger" and "bulking up." It's not that strength and size are inherently bad for athletes, but they're not nearly as big of factors as balance, power, quickness, endurance and healthy movement patterns.
       Strength is just not all that important. Strength is the ability to move mass. Speed and efficiency don't factor in to strength. It's just moving mass.
     Now, let's consider how infrequently an athlete, especially at the youth level, has to move another object with significant mass without any regard to how quickly that event needs to happen. I think most coaches would rather have the athlete in position quickly with the ability to maintain balance and leverage so that an opponent doesn't gain an advantage.
       One of the most common examples of athletes needing to moving mass is what we used to see more frequently in popular gap-scheme football offensive line blocking assignments. But, gap-scheme-based offenses are less popular these days, having given way to zone schemes, run-pass-options and three-step or even one-step passing offenses. The translation to all that jargon is that, even in football, it's less important to be able to move large objects and more important to be able to move yourself.
      In many other sports, athletes never make contact with an opponent. so, they don't ever need to move another significant mass. The only mass they need to move is their own body. And still in other sports, like gymnastics, swimming, and running, your ability to move yourself efficiently and effectively is the foremost athletic emphasis.
    This is not to say that weight training is not important. It is one factor in the grand scope of strength and conditioning for athletes. When a young athlete starts on a strength and conditioning program, here are a three other aspects of training that need to be included for the program to help the athlete accomplish their goals.

1. Movement pattern correction/reinforcement - Proper functional movement patterns help ensure that athletes are using the energy and skills they possess efficiently, and also helps reduce the risk of injury. There are many functional movement screenings available out there. Find one. Make sure your athlete is improving his/her movement patterns.
2. Explosive movements - Exercises like power jumps, Olympic lifts and ground-based plyometrics are generally viewed as more effective for athletes than standard strength training movements.
3. Balance-related exercises Athletes are training to be effective on their feet. Laying on a bench doesn't do much to help that. One-legged exercises and exercises incorporating Swiss balls and BoSU balls help athletes maintain their balance while also moving weight. These are not the only balance aids, but they're pretty easy to find and most trainers/strength coaches know how to use them.

     Strength training is good. For some people, it's great. But for a young athlete, "strength" is rarely the aspect of strength and conditioning that they need most.

     As for that muscle-bound guy at the gym: There's a very good chance that either he is no longer a competitive athlete, or never was an athlete to begin with. He may look impressive, but lets not confuse looks with athleticism. Moving efficiently, having great balance, changing direction without hesitation, and having healthy movement pattern; now that's athletic!


 

Size Doesn't Matter

                Size doesn’t matter; at least not in amateur sports. Yet, on almost a daily basis, I hear parents and coaches telling kids that they’re not the right size to play a certain position or a certain sport.

                From parents, it unnecessary discouragement, and from coaches, it’s a copout. Parents at their best when they’re encouraging kids to compete for what they want, and coaches are at their best when they’re explaining to kids what’s expected and helping them cultivate the necessary tools to get where they want to go.

                The truth is there are no specific size requirements for any position or role in sports; certainly not at the youth level. A touchdown is worth 6 points. Not 4 for short kids and 8 for tall kids. A goal in field hockey is worth 1 point. No asterisk for a girl who scores that happens to be five inches taller than the rest of the girls.

                But to fully embrace this concept that there are no specific sizes to play specific positions or sports, we have to embrace two facts.

1.       Sports at the amateur level and sports at the professional level are, at best, somewhat similar.

2.       Your kid is not preparing for the game you see on television when he’s 13 years old.

What is more accurate and more applicable to amateur sports is that positions or roles on a team require the display of a skillset that gives a coach confidence in the kid to perform during the game and a result during the game that backs up the coaches opinion of the kid’s skillset.

                Imagine a group of adults looking at another adult and saying, “She should be a school superintendent. She owns a great pair of reading glasses, and I know a superintendent who has that same blouse.” Ridiculous, right? But those same adults would likely not hesitate to look at a tall kid and say, “Wow, I bet she’d make a good basketball player.”

                So, as a parent, how do you chose what sport is right for your kid. It’s simple. You don’t.

                Instead, take a look at what’s offered where you are. Of those organizations, which ones have your kid showed an interest in? Next, look into the organizations. What do those organizations offer that will benefit your kid’s recreationally and developmentally?

Of course, if your child doesn’t show an interest in any sport and it’s important to you for your kid to exercise and compete regularly, you can help steer the decision a little. But forcing a kid to play a sport they don’t like is a quick way to give a kid a lasting negative memory about you. Don’t believe me? Ask any kid who was forced to play a sport because their dad loved it. I don’t care if that person is 100 years old. Somewhere in their mind, there’s still a little resentment toward their dad about it.

I’ve even heard coaches telling kids that they’re “wasting their size” by playing or not playing certain sports. What’s wrong with being a 6’3” violin player who collects comic books? Nothing, if the kid likes the violin and comics. But I guarantee there’s a coach at that kid’s high school that has considered that kid a “waste.” And, if that kid is devoted to his music and not particularly interested in sports, why did that coach think he would help his team?

When a kid loves participating in an activity, encourage it. Activity is good. When you notice a kid possesses a skill that helps with that activity, recognize it. Praise is good. If you see that the kid has a deficiency that can be improved upon in that activity, challenge them and give them the skills to improve. Personal growth is also good.

Size does not factor in to any of this.

Arguing Gets You Nowhere

          I can’t grasp the concept of arguing with officials in youth sports. Unless you’re talking about a rule that’s not being properly observed, coaches who argue with officials at the youth level are wasting their time, and wasting coachable moments.

         Let’s establish one thing. Most youth sports officials, regardless of sport, are not very good. They usually fall into one (or more than one) of four categories.

1.       1. They’re now to officiating that sport and have to pay their dues reffing little kids before they can move up.

2.      2.  They’re making a few extra buck on the side because while the day job may pay most of the bills, they could use a little spending money.

3.       3. They’re at the tail end of their officiating career and have come back down to youth games after officiating high school or college.

4.       4. They’ve be officiating forever, they’ve never been good at it, and they’re stuck with kids.

It doesn’t really matter which of these four categories they fit in. Suffice to say it’s not their full time gig.

        Every once in a while, you see a great official at the youth level. They’re consistent, they’re fair, they’re just the right amount of serious, they're helping the kids without interfering with the coaches, and they get all the calls right. When you get that ump or referee, every parent and coach says the same thing. “Why can’t we have this guy every game?”

The reason you can’t get that ref consistently is simple. Everyone wants them and they can pick and choose their assignments. And if you’re a thorn in their side, they’re picking a different assignment.

So, what good does arguing do? Most officials have a quick trigger with coaches who consistently argue every call. I’ve umped enough games and been around enough officials to know that pain-in-the-butt coaches don’t get the calls that the sensible coach gets. It doesn’t matter if it’s fair. It’s true.

Moreover, spending your energy arguing a call sends the wrong message. Usually, if a play was close, the kid you’re coaching could have done something better to make it not-so-close. Hustling out of the batter’s box could have made the bang-bang play at first an easy infield single. The holding call by your right tackle on the outside run might not have been called if the kid took a better first step and established leverage.

Remember, as youth coaches, we are coaching all the time. The coach who shows up to practice and wastes the first 15 minutes of practice is teaching his players that it’s OK to be unprepared. The coach who leaves the field and immediately grabs a cigarette is teaching his players that it’s OK to smoke. And the coach that argues every call is telling the kids on the team that it’s OK to blame somebody else for their own failure.

How about the basketball official who calls a blocking foul every time down the court whenever a girl drives the lane? The perpetual arguing coach gets on the ref. Maybe the coach should be emphasizing denying the pass to the wing or defending more closely on the perimeter so her girls don’t get in the situation to get called for a block.

I’ve heard coach after coach say, “Ref, you’ve made that same call four times.” Insanity is doing the same thing the same way and expecting a different result, right? Expect the same result. Change the message to your team. That’s coaching.

Of course, this is not to say that it's not right to speak to an official about their calls. Those friendly conversations can go a long way with that official. Ans sometimes, the call is so bad that it's almost impossible to keep your mouth shut. Trust me. The official knows that they missed that call.  

                When I recruit high school athletes, I try to stay away from the kids who blame officials for losses. For many athletes, the officials are a non-factor. They’re the athletes I want to coach. Judge early in the game how the game is being officiated and adjust. The team that does that more effectively will likely have an easier time with the officials late in the game. And the team that blames the officials for a loss are the ones that are missing out on opportunities to improve.

Three Goals of Every Coach

 Championships. Scholarships. Records.

 Those are the three things I hear every season from youth coaches. Unfortunately, they're the three things that matter the least. And, if you coach without the real "Big Three" goals in mind, they're unlikely to happen.

Here are the "Big Three" that every coach should concern themselves with:

1. A smile - If your athletes are smiling, you're providing the right environment. Not all the time, of course. If they're never challenged, they're not improving. But when the thought of your team enters their minds, they should smile. There are a million ways to get to that smile, one of which is on-field success. But, if you're cultivating an environment that evokes smiles, you're accomplishing Job 1.

2. A registration - Kids have a million options for their free time. It's my firm belief that every kid should sweat and compete, but not every parent agrees. Kids are also at their best when they're well rounded, So, the piano, the paint brush and the library card can also play a huge role in their development. And let's not ignore the power of the remote control and the video game controller.
      If your coaching style, practice structure, and general team environment brought the kid back for another season of that sport, you've accomplished Job 2.

3. A referral - There's no better compliment as a college coach than when another respected coach or a former player tells a prospective student-athlete that their best option would be to play on your team. It's not much different with kids. The kid who didn't play for your team last year and does this year is likely not by mistake. Somebody probably told that kid about their experience and convinced them to play. If your smiling little-leaguer tells you about a friend who is going to play next season, you've accomplished Job 3.

   If you talk to a youth sports coach about their season and the first thing they mention is their team's record, they're going about this all wrong. It often makes me wonder what's missing in that coaches life that a championship for a team of small children is so important to them.

  But don't mistake the message. Competition is good. It's healthy. It's right. Participating is a hotly-contested game or match is good for everyone involved. The goal is balance. Compete as much as you smile.

   Success in coaching is not measured in final scores. It's measured in smiles, registrations and referrals. Most likely not coincidentally, I'm finding more and more that the coaches who's players smile, sign up again next year, and bring a friend with them are also the ones who win consistently.

Reward "Off-The-Ball" First

It doesn’t show up on the scoreboard. Kids don’t call grandpa and grandma and tell them about it. The newspapers won’t write about it. And that’s why as parents and coaches, it’s our job to reward it.

                The “it” is what young athletes do when they are not in control of the ball.

                In team sports, there’s only one object that matter in the final score. It’s the ball (or puck). Where it goes and how it gets there determines the score. Because of that, so many kids grow up believing that if the ball is not involved, it’s not important. And those kids could not be more wrong.

                Kids with exceptional natural ball skills and developed hand-eye or foot-eye coordination will appear to be better players, or better athletes, at a younger age. They tend to score more goals, get more base hits, catch more passes and make more baskets. It’s easy for Suzy to call grandpa and say “I scored 3 goals in my soccer game today.” Good for Suzy. I hope she feels great about herself. That’s a big day for a little girl.

                What about Rebecca? She didn’t score any goals. What’s she going to tell grandpa? Hopefully, Rebecca can tell grandpa that she had a great time and she ran around like crazy.

                If Rebecca’s coach emphasizes the right things, she’ll notice that Rebecca was always in the right place on the defensive end of the field. Rebecca also took away a passing lane that could have resulted in a scoring opportunity for the other team. Rebecca also chased down an opponent from behind and forced her to change her direction and move away from the goal.

                My team only needs 1 Suzy. But we need a dozen Rebecca’s. Suzy is luck. She has an advanced skillset for her age and she’s got a knack for butting the ball in the back of the goal. You can’t win unless you score more goals than the other team. Simple facts. But only rewarding Suzy for her goals is a problem that I see in youth sports all the time.

                Winning requires scoring and stopping other teams from scoring. But winning habits are more than that. Hustle is a winning habit. Effort is a winning habit. Attention to detail is a winning habit. Doing what’s asked of you is a winning habit. Being a responsible teammate is a winning habit. None of that stuff requires the ball in your possession.

                Our youth baseball league has implemented a rewards system for our young players. We package up some old baseball cards donated by our coaches in envelopes; ten to a pack. When the kids do something of note, we give them an envelope of cards. It’s a simple, cheap rewards system that reinforces the game of baseball that day and in the future.

                One of our youth coaches has decided to give a pack of cards each game to the player who does the best job backing up throws. Not making throws. Not catching throws. Backing up throws.

                I love that idea. Every player is capable of backing up throws. Very few kids are excited to call grandma and tell her that you backed up third like a champ today. But that coach is well aware and has found a way to reward that winning habit.

                Make no mistake. The ball is the most important thing. If all we cared about was backing up bases, nobody would get anybody out. But backing up bases is ALSO important. It’s a big part of the game, especially at the youth level when fewer players are capable of making accurate throws and catching well-thrown balls.

                I don’t know if that coach’s team is any good. I have no idea what their win-loss record it. Frankly, I don’t care. I know that his team has embraced a winning habit that will help eliminate costly mistakes and will help each player feel as though they’ve contributed regardless of what they did when they were in control of the ball.

                Often, we hear about these winning habit on TV as “the little things.” At the youth level, these are “THE BIG THINGS.”

                What you’ll find if you routinely reward the “off the ball” movement and responsibilities is that your team plays are cleaner, more complete game. You’ll also find that fewer players leave your sport because of boredom or lack of talent. You’ll find high school and college coaches seeking out players who played for you because the “play the game the right way.”

                Most importantly, you’ll find kids who want to play for you and parents who want their children to play for your team. Let the scoreboard, social media and the local newspaper tell everyone who hit the game-winning shot. Reward your team for what happens away from the ball.

Who's the Coach?

                There’s a difference between being a parent and a coach. There’s also a difference between being A coach and being THE coach.

                I recently attended a youth baseball game between 11-13 year-olds at which many coaches were in the stands. Some coaches were private instructors. Some were head coaches of other teams in the same league. One was the local high school coach. It was wonderful to see so many people who love baseball at the game. Here’s what wasn’t wonderful.

                Players from both teams left the dugout on multiple occasions to talk to their mom or dad, their club coach, their private instructor, or somebody else. Plain and simple, this is wrong.

                Players belong in the dugout, on the field, in the locker room, on the sidelines or with the people who have been charged with the task of managing the game. I understand that some fields have a blurred line of what is the participants’ area and what is the spectators’ area, but it’s the job of everyone involved to try to stick to their area. It makes for a healthier, safer environment.

                Significantly more importantly, I need to address the coaching issue. I don’t care if you’ve got a plaque in Cooperstown. If you haven’t been asked by the team’s organizers to help coach that team, it’s wrong for you to coach during that game. It’s disrespectful to the coaches who are coaching the game, it could send mixed messages to the players, and it probably makes you look like a fool.

                As a college head coach, one of the things that bothers me the most is to see one of my players being counselled by somebody outside of our program during a match. I want to say, “We had practice all week. Where were you?” We’ve got nearly three-dozen influences in our program from administrators, to coaches, to trainers, to teammates to trusted alumni. They all play in integral part in developing our team and our players. If you’re not involved in the day-to-day aspect of team development, you’ve only got two possible roles on match day:

1.       A spectator

2.       A distraction

It’s no different in youth sports. While the quality of coaching varies from team to team and organization to organization, the roles must be clear cut and defined. Players play. Coaches coach. Officials officiate. Support staff fills the role assigned to them. Everyone else needs to be a spectator.

I know what some of you are thinking. You’ve got your resume ready to show me your list of accomplishments. Or maybe you’re ready with a list of all the things that your coach does incorrectly.

Here are a few things to remember before you puff up tour chest and tell me how wonderful you are.

1.       There’s more to coaching than game management. Schedule management, uniforms, practice schedules, travel arrangements, paying officials, field preparation, concessions… The list goes on. If you’re not ready for all of that, coaching isn’t for you.

2.       If you’re a coach of another team, would you want another coach influencing your sidelines without your permission?

3.       Every youth organization I’ve ever seen is understaffed and looking for more volunteers. If it’s important to you, volunteer. You’ll be glad you did.

4.       If you notice something that you’d like to help your kid/private client/player with during a game being coached by somebody else, make time for that conversation on your time, not another person’s time.

5.       If you’re the parent that consistently tries to coach from the sidelines, there’s a good chance that not only will you not be asked to coach, but that your kid will be excluded in the future because of your mouth. I know that doesn’t sound fair to the kid, but it happens in every town in America.

6.       In sports as in life, nobody cares how much you know until they know how much you care.   

Coaching from the last point of success

Coaching from the last point of success

                Every athlete brings unique tools to the table. But they can all improve in a myriad of ways. All of them. One way to ensure that you’re encouraging improvement for each athlete is to attempt to help each athlete to grow from their most recent success.

                Before we get there, let’s make sure you’re recognizing success properly. I’m not talking about a successful result. Anyone can recognize that the ball going in the basket is good. If you can’t tell that when Jane crosses the finish line first, she successfully won the race, maybe you shouldn’t be the track coach.

                We’re talking about process here.

                We’re talking about an imaginiary boy named Connor. We’ve all seen Connor. He’s the 9-year-old kid in right field who gets a ball hit to him and has no idea what to do. He’s scared. He’s nervous, and the screaming and shouting of the parents who probably couldn’t make the play themselves doesn’t help him.

                Let’s face facts. If Connor is routinely playing right field at 9-years-old he’s in one of 3 situations.

A.      He’s not destined for Major League stardom

B.      His team is very good and he’s fulfilling a subordinate roll

C.      His coach does a pretty good job of rating players around so they all get to play multiple positions

Regardless of which category little Connor fits in, we as coaches and parents need to recognize where Connor is in his development as a ballplayer to help Connor improve. In this case, the big questions here are:

1.       Why doesn’t Connor know what to do?

2.        How can we help him?

If we operate on these two simple questions, we are likely coaching from the last point of success.

Have you seen Connor do what’s asked of him as a right fielder before? Remember, we are talking about mentally. As much as we’d like to, we have very little influence of who is and in not physically capable or making plays, especially with young children.

                If you have not seen Connor field the ball and throw in to second base, or to the assigned cut-off man (depending on your team’s structure), you can’t expect more than this from Connor. If this is where Connor is at developmentally, maybe his last point of success was remembering which was right field and which was left field. His next point of success is to remember to whom he should throw the ball if the ball should come to him.

                Let’s say little Connor has hit the cut-off man on throws to second base several times already this season. It’s perfectly acceptable to expect that of Connor moving forward regardless of your perception of Connor’s ability. He’s shown proficiency in that area. He’s achieved that level of success. Connor should be rewarded for that success, he should know that the coaches know he can do it and do it well, and he should be aware of what comes next in his development to improve as a right fielder. Here’s an example of verbage that can help Connor after that success when Connor comes back to the dugout.

                “Hey Connor, nice job getting that ball right in to the cut-off man. I trust you to do that every time. This week at practice, we’re going to work on getting your body in position to field that ball with two hands.”

                Connor has been rewarded for doing a part of his job well, he’s been told that this is something he is trusted and expected to do routinely, and he’s been made aware of how he can improve.

                 But what if Connor forgets to throw to the cut-off man even after doing this successfully several times. It happens. Kid’s forget. Or maybe they try to progress too fast and think they can or should make a throw that differs from what they’ve done in the past.

                Connor, and the rest of the team, needs to be reminded or expectations. “Outfielders: Remember that we want you throwing strikes to the cut-off man.”

                When Connor comes back to the dugout, ask what happened. Shouting that question during the inning doesn’t help anyone. Maybe Connor just forgot. It happens. He’s 9. Maybe he saw something you didn’t. Remind him of the expectations, express your confidence in Connor to do that consistently, and move on. It’s over.

                Now, remember what you said to Connor after he made the right throw? You told him you’d work on body positioning so he could field the ball with two hands at next week’s practice.

Connor now has expectations of you. He expects to be coached. He needs your help. Chances are, Connor isn’t the only player on the team that can stand to improve on that skill. If you told Connor you’d work on it in practice, make time for it in practice.

                During that drill, you’ll notice that some of the players show proficiency and some do not. Those who show that they can do this routinely need a new challenge. Those who do not should keep working on it throughout the season until they show that it’s routine. Sounds simple, right? It is. That’s just one example of one skill at one position in one sport.

                We can’t expect Connor and Joey and Lisa to all be capable of the same things. But we can expect them to do what they’ve proven to do repeatedly and routinely. And, with our help, they can improve from their last point of success.

Who is the Coach V guy anyway?

   

   I’ve spend my entire life in amateur sports. I grew up New Jersey playing baseball, football, basketball and ice hockey with a few other sports sprinkled in. When I wasn’t playing, I was watching. It might have been my siblings or cousins, it might have been the Mets. On the odd chance That I wasn’t playing or watching, I was probably either sorting baseball cards or playing a football game with my Starting Line-up figurines. Every once in a while, I snuck in a book or a video game. But if it wasn’t a Matt Christopher book or Blades of Steel, I probably wasn’t interested.

                High school rolled around before I was done playing wiffleball in the back yard. I traded in my baseball bat and hockey skates for a shot put and a volleyball. I was either smart enough or dumb enough to keep my football cleats on. The first paycheck I earned was as a softball umpire at 13 years old. By the time I was out of high school, I already had a championship game loss as a head coach under my belt (the first of many) coaching middle school girls’ basketball.

                I completely botched the recruiting process. I can’t say I was world class, or even very good, at any one particular sport. But at 6’4 and 225 pounds, I was pretty athletic (and certainly athletic-minded). I ended up turning down an FCS football scholarship to play division III football because I knew I’d be able to play right away.

                My academics were, at best, below average. I did well in the classes that I could talk my way through and poorly in the classes that required effort. I never learned how to study. I went through about 15 years of school with undiagnosed ADHD. I still haven’t done much to deal with it, other than recognize it’s an issue and make peace with the inability to stay on task and focused.

                In college, I found a new way to get paid in sports. I wrote. I covered high school, college and competitive youth sports for about a half-dozen newspapers throughout northern New Jersey and Northeastern Pennsylvania. The upbringing I had sure helped. If I hadn’t played the sport, I was probably stuck in a sweaty gym watching it at some point.

                After two years as a major contributor on a pretty good Division III football team, I gave up football. Truth is, I never really loved playing football. I was pretty good at it, but I was never passionate about it. I tried my hand at college baseball having not played competitively since I was 15. That didn’t last a full season. Then, I dabbled. A little beach volleyball here, some water polo there. Plenty of weight training. And the occasional 5k or golf outing.

                Life took me from the Northeast to the Carolinas. Naturally, I turned to sports. I interned at a sports radio station, worked full-time at a magazine covering sports, and freelanced for another covering mostly NASCAR and the NFL. I played a lot of golf, and more than enough beer league softball. I got serious about weight training and more serious about my college sweetheart.

                Two years later, we were married and headed back up north. A few twists and turns in the road and I found myself back in Jersey coaching high school football and working at gym as a personal trainer full time. It was during that time that I learned that coaching was why I was put on this planet.

                That was almost 20 years ago. I’ve been a coach ever since. I’ve dabbled in writing and officiating, but I’m a coach. What was once high school football and weight training has somehow morphed into college tennis and running around tirelessly as a Little League President.

                Along the way, I’ve fulfilled just about every role a coach can. From recruiter to organizer, from disciplinarian and motivator, from scoreboard operator and crowd control, I’ve worn many hats. And as any veteran coach will tell you, coaching the sport is the easy part.

                The hardest part, and by far most important part, or a life in sports in managing the people around you to make sure the experience is enjoyable and beneficial for everyone. Hard is probably the wrong way to say that. It’s impossible. Still, that’s my goal. In some ways, that’s my life.

                As a collegiate head coach, I have to find the kids who will help our program be successful while also making sure those kids are choosing a collegiate option that is good for them and the path they want to take in life. I’ve said “no” to just as many kids who were not good enough for our team or school as I have to those for whom our team or school was not good enough.

                As a league president, my job is to grow, promote and teach baseball to the level that is best for the four small towns that we represent. Some of our parents have never swung a bat. Some believe a young Babe Ruth sleeps in the bedroom next to theirs. Others believe it’s not “real baseball” unless we’re traveling hundreds of miles and wearing fancy uniforms. Lucking, most of them are great folks who want their kids to learn and have fun. I have to foster the environment that allows them to grow together.

                Most importantly, I’m a father of three active kids. My wife and I need to make sure that our kids are growing in a healthy, nurturing environment in which the encounter both success and failure. They need to be physically active as well as mentally stimulated. It’s not important whether they’re good at baseball or gymnastics or dance. But it is important that they are good teammates. It’s of utmost importance.

                I know the whole sports thing sounds like child’s play to many people. To me, it’s serious. Not so much the result, but the process. So many young kids and their families know what they want; the championship, the scholarship, the spot on the varsity team; but I find that so few know how to get there, or oven what’s realistic to expect from their child in their environment.

                I’d like to think this is why people like me have jobs and community leadership roles. Then again, there’s also the possibility that I was the only one willing to take on the responsibilities that I have for the pay that I get. Remember, half of what I do is as a volunteer. But I believe it’s important work. And, chances are, if you’re reading this, you think it’s important, too.