Rule 6: Never wear sunglasses

I was blessed with really good teachers throughout my years in school. In fact, I think I only had one teacher that I didn’t learn much from. She wore sunglasses every day. Inside. And it scared me.

As an adult, I’m sure that teacher had light-sensitive eyes and that she was probably very knowledgeable. But as a child I never knew where she was looking or whether she was looking at me. I never liked going to that class and was always glad to leave it. Now I know that what that situation lacked was basic trust.

And what is practice if it’s not a class? And who am I if I’m not a teacher? And what can I accomplish without trust? 

I want every player I coach to feel exactly the opposite from the way I felt then so now I squint on the brightest days. I want them to see my eyes, know that I’m looking at them, and feel that I’m intensely involved in their lives for that practice or game.

Rule 5: It’s impossible to kick yourself

Well, it’s not actually impossible to kick yourself, but it’s hard to do it very well.

Think about it. You could take a pretty good swing and smack your ankle or your calf or your rear end. Okay, maybe someone especially flexible could manage to do some damage somehow. I don’t know.

What I do know is that when I hear someone say, “she’s kicking herself for that last play,” I know that what’s really happening is a waste of energy, figurative or not.

Since you can’t kick yourself why spend time trying?

Rule 4: It’s the next ball that counts

Players enter each game with a fixed amount of energy.

It takes energy to be angry over something you didn’t do well. It takes energy to dwell on a missed shot. It takes energy to worry about a goal given up.

And all of that energy is wasted on something that can’t be changed.

“Think about the next ball,” I say, “not the last one.” You can change what happens next.

Rule 3: You get knocked down, but you get up again

I made the high school soccer team when I was a freshman. It was easier then because soccer really wasn’t a popular sport to play. Today, the competition is much more intense.

Some of your players probably won’t make it. They’ll want to, badly, but they won’t quite have the skills, or the fitness, or the speed to make the team they want so much to be a part of. It’s tough to witness broken hearts when those same hearts have always given your team (and you) everything they have.

But you need to seize this opportunity and teach that rising up from disappointment can build character that will last a lifetime. It’s hard to explain this concept to someone who is fourteen years old, but it will be absolutely true in every aspect of their lives. And you know it. You’ve been there.

This is the time to learn discipline and dedication to a goal. They have seen where their abilities might be lacking and you can help them focus on changing that evaluation in a positive way. You can convert moderately focused practice players into the most dedicated contributors on your team.

Commit yourself to helping them achieve their goals and ask, no require, that they do the same. Be there for them. Look them in the eyes and smile. Believe in them and give them good, hard, honest feedback so that they trust what you are saying.

Not making the team will shake their confidence to the core. Re-focusing their attention on improvement and being dedicated to their goals will build confidence that cannot be shaken again.

The longer you work with players the more likely it will be that they get knocked down. Hard. But they can get up again, and that’s what you can teach them.