Blog

By Brian Gotta, President of Every Kid Comes Back

How do you know if you’re a good coach? Wouldn’t it be nice if there were one simple test to determine if you were a successful coach? Of course, there are many factors that go into coaching, but if there is a single thing you could do to ensure your season was measured a success, you’d want to do it, right?

We all know that there are coaches who are too hard on kids. They yell or display displeasure at every mistake their players make. This can be emotionally damaging, especially to young players who are just learning the game and are more interested in having fun than in winning. What these coaches don’t seem to realize is that by making their players afraid of failure, they’re actually increasing the likelihood of another mistake. Players who are secretly saying to themselves, “Please don’t let the ball come to me,” are not going to play with confidence. And players lacking confidence are not at their best.

And of course, there are coaches who are too easy on their kids. Parental complaints about these coaches are usually along the lines of, “He was a nice guy, but he didn’t teach them anything.” These coaches often feel that offering criticism is not in their job description. But clearly, one of the components of coaching or teaching is to point out errors and help players or students correct them. Kids don’t mind being corrected, as long as the approach taken is positive and gentle, not harsh and demeaning.

Some coaches lack either the time to prepare or experience to plan an effective practice. Of course, we hope that if those coaches have a CoachDeck, they’ll have the tools they need to quickly and easily run a great practice every time, even if they never played the sport they’re coaching, or if it is simply everything they can do just to get there on time from work. Just like grownups, kids want to feel like they’ve accomplished something with their time, and unproductive poorly-planned practices seem like a waste.

Too many coaches believe they need to be overly-technical when coaching youngsters. They micro-manage every aspect of their players’ actions, seemingly trying to exert their authority as the “expert.” Often, much of what these coaches teach is way over the players’ heads, and sometimes it isn’t even fundamentally sound. Coaches who stick with a few basic principles and communicate those in a way their players understand often have more success than coaches who know more, but lack the ability to convey their knowledge.

So, with all the missteps we can take as coaches, how do we know if we’re on the right path? What is the best way to determine if your season as a coach could be measured as a success regardless of wins or losses, and no matter how much your players improved from a skills standpoint? Here’s how: If, at the end of the season, every player on your team wants to come back again to play next year, you’ve done a fantastic job.

That’s it. If players enjoyed coming to games and practices because they weren’t afraid of making a mistake, because they learned something each time and because they had some fun, there is a great chance they’ll want to come back again. And even if you’re not a great coach from a fundamentals standpoint, and you weren’t able to teach the kids how to hit a curveball or how to dribble properly, at least if they come back next season, maybe they’ll get a coach who can. But if the season they spend with you is their last, does it even matter how much they learned?

So don’t be intimidated when your league asks you to volunteer. You don’t have to have played in college or hold a Ph.D in child psychology to be a great coach. You only need to have your heart in the right place and your eyes on the goal of just being one positive stop along your players’ long and enjoyable journey in the sport.

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.