09/10/2026
There's something I've noticed over the years that I wish more softball parents would pay attention to.
Watch where kids look after something goes wrong on the field.
A lot of times, the first place they look isn't at their coach. It isn't at their catcher. It isn't back at the field.
They look into the stands.
They're looking for Mom or Dad's reaction.
Is Mom smiling?
Is Dad shaking his head?
Was that a sigh?
Is a correction coming?
Are they going to get the look? š¬
And I've been thinking a lot about what that does to an athlete over time.
Because when our kids are playing with one eye on the field and one eye on us...they stop competing and start performing for our approval.
And as parents and coaches, I don't think we intentionally create that.
We WANT them to succeed.
We want the strikes.
We want the big outs.
We want the velocity.
We want them to perform when the game is on the line.
But when every pitch is measured and every mistake is met with a sigh, a correction, or the face of disappointment...
Their freedom to fail gets smaller and smaller.
And here's the problem:
No athlete develops without failure.
You cannot learn to pitch without missing.
You cannot learn to compete without losing.
You cannot learn to make adjustments without first doing something that NEEDS adjusting.
Failure isn't evidence that development isn't working.
Failure IS part of development.
One thing I tell my pitchers is:
Look to your coach for feedbackānot the stands.
But parents, we have a responsibility on the other side of that too.
Stop being the reaction they're constantly scanning for.
We don't have to coach every pitch from the bleachers.
We don't have to yell the mechanical correction we think they need.
And our faces don't have to tell the whole story every time something goes wrong.
Sometimes our job is simply to be STEADY.
Instead of immediately telling her what she did wrong:
āWhat do YOU think you want to adjust?ā
Instead of praising only the strikeout or the win:
āI saw you make that adjustment. That's huge.ā
And sometimes?
The best thing you can say is absolutely nothing.
If emotions are high, let her process...Give space
You don't have to break down the game on the car ride home.
Not every mistake requires an immediate lesson.
I want our pitchers to throw with INTENT.
I want them to attack hitters.
I want them willing to try something and fail.
I want them to make an adjustment without being terrified that the next pitch might be worse.
I want them to learn how to fail and realize...I'm still okay.
Because a pitcher who knows she won't get crushed for making a mistake has the freedom to COMPETE.
A pitcher who's terrified of making one?
She starts playing safe...and safe doesn't grow.
So maybe the question for us isn't always:
āHow did she play?ā
Maybe sometimes we need to ask ourselves:
āDid I create an environment where she felt free enough to compete?ā
Because failure isn't the enemy.
Failure is the classroom. š¤