Being a parent is hard enough. It’s even harder when your child is a competitive soccer player. You have to know just what to say before, during, and after every game, and this is no easy task. Will you be helping or hindering the coach? Do you care? Some parents aren’t involved in the game at all. So here’s some insight into the minds of the parents that are standing on the sidelines.
Parents have a lot of questions because they’re not sure how to help nurture their child’s soccer playing ability. These days, many soccer pundits are too ready to give advice to parents, restating advice tips picked up through acquaintances, on TV, or perhaps the radio. But we’ve heard all that before. Here are the tips and suggestions that I’ve found work in the real world.
First of all, the best approach is to work with the parents to help them understand how I coach rather than exclude them from involvement. Being a soccer mom or dad can be taxing – all those boots, kits, travels, subscriptions – not to mention the time that’s invested, which can have a disruptive impact on a family’s schedule. So a good coach always approaches parents with empathy.
Displaying a sense of understanding toward parents brings you one step closer to a harmonious relationship with them. But what is empathy and how do you show it? Empathy is the ability to relate to another person, to put yourself in the parents’ shoes and totally comprehend their position and point of view. Empathy is not agreement. It is merely understanding.
A few years ago I made a pretty bad judgment in one particular situation involving a parent, and I’d like to share my story with you and tell you what I learned from it. Hopefully you can learn from my experience too.
About two years ago I was training a squad of 20 nine-year-olds. The group included players with a diverse range of ability and skill and we competed against two other teams in a local league. There were never any points at stake, so I decided that we’d always put forth two teams with equal skill levels. To do that, I mixed up the players, giving stronger players the responsibility of taking up the slack for some of the weaker players. Every week we played games in a round robin format (four teams meeting and playing against each other in one day). Both of my teams played in the mini-tournament. We had some pretty good games, but one weekend I decided to mix things up a bit.
I’d noticed that the better players always performed well and the level of effort they put out was considerably and consistently high. Meanwhile, the weaker players just bumbled around the pitch. They weren’t being encouraged to try harder or put forth the same efforts the stronger players had. I decided to reward the efforts of the stronger players in each squad. I put them all one team, and put all the mediocre players together on the other team.
My goal was twofold: I wanted to figure out whether the weaker players were intimidated by playing with teammates who were better skilled then they were. Perhaps that was why they weren’t performing well and hopefully all they needed was a chance to shine. I also wanted to reward the strong players and see how they would all play together. Lastly, I was curious to see what the results would be by pitting my strongest players together against our opponents.
Right now it sounds like a reasonable approach, but our team suffered massive repercussions from the parents on the sidelines. My fatal error was failing to explain to the parents beforehand my reasons for rearranging the structure of the two teams. Frankly, I didn’t think it would have much impact. Boy, was I wrong.
My strong players, grouped as a team, battered everyone. In the three games they played, the won every single one, scoring a total of 22 goals and conceding only three in one hour of play. The team I’d put together of weaker players lost two of their games, and drew another. They scored three and conceded three.
After the games concluded, I received feedback from our team’s parent representative, who was a godsend and who is also completely supportive of everything that I do with the team. It turned out that there had been lots of whispering and angry words shared between the parents on the sidelines. One had said, “This is diabolical!” He then turned on his heel and stormed away, leaving his wife to watch the rest of the game and bring their child home later.
In hindsight, I realized that my strategy had confirmed what I set out to discover. The good players did make a formidable team, and a couple of players on the weaker team did stand out once they’d had that chance to shine.
One of my long standing practices is to gather the team at the end of every game, say a few words, and present the man of the match with an award. I then make a point to thank the attending parents for their time and support. If looks could kill! You should have seen the faces on some of them that day two years ago.
I was tempted to start a discussion about the changes I’d made to the team structure, but decided to hold off. Instead, at the next training session, I set up the squad with some drills and left them under the supervision of the assistant coach. It was then that I took the parents to the gym reception area for a brief meeting. I diffused the situation by conceding that I may have made an error in judgment by not informing the parents in advance that the teams would be structured differently. However, I also reminded them that it is my prerogative as the coach to play whoever I want in any position that I want when I feel it will benefit the team as a whole.
Some parents accepted this. Others did not. But if there is one mantra that all coaches should memorize it’s that you can’t please all the people all the time.
