Coaching

Coaching

We often begin our work with new groups of coaches by asking them to reflect on where their love of sport began.

The answer is rarely about executing a skill well and it’s never about winning. It almost always features someone else; “playing tennis with my Dad”, “going to watch my cousin’s netball matches”, “a coach who said I’d done well”, “watching the only girl on the boys' football team and thinking I can do the same.”

There was one recently that I loved: “I used to walk past the gymnastics club windows every night and it would look so warm, everyone having fun. I wanted to join in.” She went on to become a volunteer at that club so that she could provide that warmth to other girls like her.

The group buzzes as each person touches their original, child-like joy stored in the moments they recall.

But we also reflect on our experiences of sport that we would never want another person to have. The tone shifts. We allow for silence. We breathe. The answers are rarely about struggling with technique, or losing. We share the trauma of life-changing injuries, being bullied, being embarrassed by a coach, being picked last, “giving up everything and ending up with nothing.”

The memories and emotions attached are so easy for participants to access, when given the chance to share in a supportive space. The emotions are right at the top - in the chest, the throat, the face. It does not matter how long since has lapsed. “The past is never dead. It’s not even the past” (Faulkner).

Without fail, and without us adding a word, the group sees the challenge that is before them.

“I realise my role is critical. The environments I create really matter. My words and actions will affect the whole lives of these children and young people.”

What could be more important than that??

We reflect on what we want to be like as a coach, and of good and bad examples. I had a mix.

I had one PE teacher who ended sessions with, “Right boys, we’re going to race the two fattest boys in the class. Let’s see who’s the slowest.” But on the other hand a PE teacher, who, without me knowing (presumably without him knowing), was teaching a version of a Buddhist parable, the second arrow: “you can respond positively or negatively now, Sam.”

I had a tennis coach who made fun of and swore at his players.?

But I also had my Dad. Oh the lessons I learned. Sometimes tennis taught the lessons. Sometimes it was the gaps in between. Sometimes the lessons were gold flashes of lightning, and you would never see things the same again. Sometimes they were slow burns, becoming truer and truer as I went about life.

What a gift.

And so in our sessions, we help coaches to realise that they are some of the most important people in society.

They get it. Their posture lengthens, chests expand.

They see their place in the world. They want to provide the extraordinary gift of sport and play, the gift of being listened to and cared about, the gift of an escape into our true nature when we feel completely alive. From there we can do wonderful things.

So how demeaning the old adage of “if you can’t do, teach, and if you can’t teach, teach PE.”

My goodness do we need to recognise the importance of coaches, celebrate their value, encourage the best to join the profession, and completely re-imagine their training and development, way beyond the traditional notions of tech-tac, classroom management, and safeguarding. [Plug: Visit www.thetrueathleteproject.org to find out how we’re doing just that, by bringing mindfulness, storytelling, compassionate communication - and so much more - to sport].

What has your experience been like? What is the radical change you’d like to bring about?

If you’re a coach and you want to work with TAP, or bring us to your team, club or school, please get in touch. [email protected].