Coaching

I’ve written before of my experience as a youth baseball coach. Over the years I’ve had the opportunity to coach some fine young men, several great athletes, and get to know some wonderful families. Even though my son has moved on to high school ball with a professional coach, my love for coaching continues. I still find myself watching baseball games as if I were reviewing game film, trying to determine the next pitch, or anticipate when a runner will attempt a steal. It’s been several years since I had my own team, but I still study the game so that if the occasion arises, I’ll be prepared.

For me the absolute best part of coaching was having my son on the team. We spent many hours each week at the practice field, in the back yard, watching games on TV or trolling the youth fields to watch other teams. Throughout all his youth baseball career my son had the advantage of living with the coach. Unfortunately he also had the disadvantage of living with the coach. Before each practice and game he would get an earful about what he needed to work on and how to work on it. Afterward, he would get critiqued all the way home. To be sure, some critiques were harsher than others. To his credit he listened and always tried to incorporate what we had discussed. Over time I learned to be more diplomatic and objective in my assessments of his performance. Because of his inundation in both the physical and mental aspects of the game, I came to rely on him often in critical situations.

This did not go unnoticed by some of the other parents. More than once it was brought to my attention, in a rather undiplomatic way, that my son almost always started and got to play the “glamour” positions. It’s true, but he was so reliable. His mechanics were sound, his footwork polished, and he tended to think like a coach on the field. I could put him anywhere and he would play that position with ferocity. On more than one occasion, while being accosted by an angry parent comparing my son’s playing time to that of their son, I would offer them my clipboard and tell them if they thought they could do a better job I would gladly step aside. Not once did they reach for the clipboard. It’s easy to throw rocks at the coach, which is why I only give positive comments to my son’s coaches. I don’t try to second guess them or give them suggestions on how to run their team. Of course there are things I would do differently, but it’s not my team.

Coaching my son helped me do a better job of putting myself in the place of those who I am attempting to coach. There are many different ways to deliver a message, and often it is not what we say but how we say it that determines the success of our student. I’m still learning that patience goes a lot further than expressing disappointment. Our children are a reflection of what they learn at home. If we want our children to be aware of all their shortcomings, then all we need do is constantly remind them of their shortcomings and how they have disappointed us. However, if we want them to be aware of their enormous potential, then we need to lovingly coach them as to why a particular course of action led to a less than desirable result and how to make a better choice next time. Then we must follow up with an explanation of how the better choice will exploit certain talents and abilities of theirs, and how this could lead to bigger and better things. The first approach results in adults constantly looking over their shoulders, fearful of what might have gone wrong. The second results in adults looking ahead to all the good they will do. As a husband, father, and coach, I still struggle with making the best choices, but I am hopeful that with prayer and effort I will continue to improve and, hopefully, have a positive impact on my family.