I’m a family nerd. I’ve spent my life putting my family first. Part of that included coaching my kids in their sports: Basketball, baseball, hockey, fast-pitch softball. My times with my kids on those teams have stayed with me. As you can imagine, I have stories: some that I can retell. Some I can’t. One of those stories is about the time I created certain expectations for my players and then let them down.
Head Coach of the Wildcats
I was the head coach for the t-ball team Wildcats. All the teams in our league were made up of first, second and third graders. One of the league rules established a maximum scoring limit of six runs an inning. We were a good team, and we won all but two games. During the season, as soon as there was a mathematical win, I’d invert the line-up and move all the younger or less skilled players to the infield to maximize their experience.
The Unspoken Contract
No one ever said anything about it. As far as I knew, no one even recognized that I did it. (I’ve never been sufficiently aware of the perceptions of others, and this is a perfect example). When the Wildcats were one game away from the play-offs, I decided to stop this. I thought I was getting my players ready for the big game.
I still remember standing in the dugout during the game. We’d scored our six runs, but this time I told the boys to get out on the field at the same positions. The younger boys walked up to me, staring up, frowning, disappointed — hurt in their eyes. They knew the score in the game, and they knew I wasn’t living up to their expectations — expectations that I had created.
What a reminder of what I was supposed to be doing there! I was stunned for a moment. Without a word from my players, with just their eyes staring up at me, I was convicted.
I immediately changed the line-up. They were right, and I can still see their eyes when they realized I had understood and corrected my mistake. Over the season, without any words from me, I’d managed to build a trust with those young boys that they’d get their time. I hadn’t realized until that moment that I had a contract with them, and they weren’t afraid to remind me of it.
The Lesson of the Dugout
I have tried over the years to remember that moment in the Wildcats’ dugout. Trust is a precious thing that I try to handle with care. I’ve failed many times. More than I’d ever admit.
Have you had such a moment in your life? Have you had eyes looking up at you, convicting you for some thoughtless action of your own? I’m sure you have — we all have — but the fact that we’re not alone in our thoughtlessness doesn’t make the actual moment any less convicting, or painful.
During those playoffs, the games were close. We lost the championship — but I didn’t let those boys down again.