We had just won the match in a thrilling five-set battle. Alex led our team back in the fifth set and scored the game-winning point. We all came off the court elated—everyone except for Alex.
Most of my high school career was spent being shuttled around by other parents since my own were busy working and not very involved in my athletics. Because of this, I had the unique opportunity to witness an interesting but common moment in youth sports: the ride home.
I never know how many people read these blogs, or if anyone does. But this one is important.
One of the most visceral memories I have from youth sports is sitting in the car with Alex and his dad after that hard-fought match. Half the time, post-game rides home were about dinner plans or unfinished homework. The other half? Debriefing the game. And while some reflection is necessary, breaking down the X’s and O’s is not a parent's role—that’s the coach’s job.
A parent's role in youth sports isn’t to critique performance. It’s to use these moments to teach life lessons—how to handle disappointment when they don’t get to play, how to show humility in victory, and how to grow through challenges. These are the conversations we, as a club, take pride in fostering.
Even before we got in the car, I could feel the tension. Alex was afraid—not just of disappointing his father, but on some level, of losing his father’s love. As I got older, I realized his father was afraid, too. He feared that his son’s performance was a reflection of his own success—or failure—as a parent.
At the time, I quietly hoped his father was just trying to push him to be his best. But looking back, I see how much pressure Alex and his father carried. I recently posted an article, “I Love to Watch You Play.” This is the other side of that story and why I believe in a holistic approach to youth sports. If you haven’t read it. Make time.
We grew up in an era when concussions weren’t as important as “toughness.” When perception became more valuable than actual learning. Today, we’re at a tipping point—recognizing the flaws of past generations and trying our best to correct them.
As a reluctant leader in this space, I think about Alex often. A super talented kid, but a kid nonetheless. A kid who needed to be encouraged to always grow and learn. A kid who needed to feel supported and loved no matter what.
Unfortunately, Alex didn’t get that often enough. And eventually, he quit the sport.
That memory is a constant reminder of how important relationships are. How important the lessons are. How doing what’s right is always more important than who’s right.
So, here are six things to keep in mind once the game is over:
3 P’s for the Ride Home
Praise effort, not outcome.
Pride should come from the qualities that make a good human, not just the final score.
Protect your athlete’s mental and physical safety over any game result.
3 Don’ts for the Ride Home
Don’t link your love to outcomes.
Don’t coach your child over their coach.
Don’t make the games more important than they really are.
These may seem like small things, but they have a profound impact. The ride home is more than just a drive—it’s an opportunity to strengthen your relationship with your child, to support them in both success and struggle, and to remind them that their value isn’t tied to a scoreboard. As a club, we are committed to fostering an environment where young athletes feel encouraged, challenged, and, most importantly, loved. The lessons they learn in sports will shape who they become far beyond the court, and as parents, coaches, and mentors, we have the duty to make sure those lessons are the right ones.
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