By Brian Gotta, President of Every Kid Comes Back

I was watching a Little League game recently. These were nine and ten-year-olds. The first baseman had pitched the first three innings. He was a head taller than anyone else on the field but, from what I could see, his playing skills were average. He was rolling balls to the other infielders while the new pitcher warmed up.

The third baseman made a low throw that he couldn’t handle. As it bounced past him to the dugout he lifted his hands above his head as if to say, “What was that?”

Next, the shortstop threw one at his feet. Instead of trying to catch or block it, he jumped out of the way so that it didn’t hit his shins. He said something to the shortstop. I couldn’t hear the words, but his body language told me that he wasn’t happy.

Not one of his coaches seemed to notice. If they did, they made no effort to address it.

Here is what I’d have done:

I’d have walked out to first base. Not after the inning. Not after the game. Immediately, so that the behavior was fresh in his mind. I would have put my arm around him and had the following conversation:

“Hey, Jackson. Have you ever made a bad throw?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever walked a batter when you were pitching?”

“Yes.”

“And if you made a bad throw, or walked a batter, would you want your teammates yelling at you, saying, ‘What are you doing?!’”

“No.”

“What would you want them to say?”

“’It’s OK.’”

“Is that all?”

“Maybe, ‘get the next one?’”

“Right. So why aren’t you doing that for your teammates?”

(Embarrassed shrug while looking at his cleats).

“Jackson, I want you to be a leader on this team. Do you want to be a leader?”

“Yes.”

“Great. I thought so. Well, leaders don’t criticize their teammates. They encourage them. They build them up. They help each other so that the team succeeds. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

“If you help them, they’ll help you, and then we’ll all be better, right?”

“Right.” “OK. Let’s see that leadership from now on.”

In my experience, most kids (not all) are going to respond to this by turning over a new leaf. I’m going to observe them go out of their way to be vocally encouraging, making sure I hear it.

I don’t want to predict that this conversation will stick with this kid for a lifetime and that he will spend the rest of his life encouraging others and building people up instead of tearing them down, but you know what? It might. Maybe no one at home has ever explained to him that when you push people down, you go with them and when you lift people up—you go with them.

He’s going to remember that Coach came out and had that personal discussion with him. And I have to think that my belief in his potential as a leader will make him stand a little taller and feel more like the baseball field is a place he can excel. That will make him want to come back again next season. And all his teammates who are now being inspired after every mistake instead of reprimanded? They’ll be more likely to want to come back again also.

Coaching so that every kid comes back does not mean telling them all they did a great job, no matter what. Coaching so every kid comes back is about helping kids reach their potential—not just on the field—in fact that’s the least of it—but in their interactions with their peers and coaches.

Build up a player’s self-esteem, and even if they can’t catch or kick a ball, you’ll see them again every season.