By Steve Henson of Yahoo! Sports:
It's an unforgettable line from Field of Dreams: "Hey,
Dad, you wanna have a catch?" Kevin Costner is already an adult when he
tosses a baseball to his ghostly father. For most dads and kids, the
moment comes much sooner; and for thousands of families across the
country, a simple catch leads to dad signing up his son or daughter with
the local youth league, and then signing up himself as coach.
Then the simple joy of tossing a ball back and forth transforms into
something more complicated. The team, of course, includes other players.
And they have parents, many of whom have opinions about you as a coach.
Practices are difficult enough to run smoothly, and they lead to games,
and games are competitive. Are you a good coach or a poor one? Is your
child a good player or a lousy one? Are you playing favorites with your
child? Or are you harder on your kid than on the others, creating
friction in the family?
Chipper Jones has enjoyed a 19-year career thanks to the teachings of his dad. (AP)
None of that mattered during the backyard catch. Coaching a son or
daughter, it turns out, is one of the most challenging pursuits a parent
can take on. It can be exceedingly rewarding. And it can be exceedingly
frustrating – to the child as well as the parent.
Even if the child hits the sports equivalent of the lottery and becomes a
professional athlete, memories of the years under dad's tutelage can be
a mixed bag. Kevin Neary and Leigh A. Tobin co-authored a book,
Major League Dads,
which features 250 pages of big-league baseball players recounting
being coached as youngsters by their fathers. Most of the memories are
positive: the work ethic dad taught, the skills he honed, the fun he
emphasized. Others are telling, and could help serve as a road map for
any dad piling bats and helmets into his car and heading off to the
field. Neary and Tobin even reference Field of Dreams (and its
most unforgettable line: "If you build it, he will come.")
Another resource for parents coaching their children is Bruce E. Brown of
Proactive Coaching,
who has spoken to more than a million young athletes, parents and
coaches over the last 12 years. His common-sense advice helps anyone
involved in youth, high school and college sports maximize their
enjoyment while avoiding pitfalls. He was the primary source for a story
I wrote in February on
how to avoid being a nightmare sports parent.
Brown points out that because professional athletes often have such
freakish athletic ability, their success isn't necessarily the product
of a dad who did everything right as a coach. Then again, some dads do
get it right. The finest youth coach in tiny Pierson, Fla., 35 years ago
was Larry Jones, whose son, also named Larry, was such a chip off the
old block people started calling him Chipper. Of course, today Chipper
Jones is a 19-year MLB veteran and seven-time All-Star with the Atlanta
Braves.
"My dad and I still talk two or three times a week," Jones told Neary.
"Whenever I get into a slump, my coaches ask me if I've called my dad.
He knows my swing the best of anyone."
Greg Maddux, who ranks eighth all-time with 355 wins, is appreciative of
something most children don't hear: "The greatest lesson I learned from
my father was that you've got to think for yourself. You've got to
learn how to do things for yourself. I know it was hard for a dad to do
and say, but he did it."
Greg Maddux's father taught him how to be independent. (Getty Images)
It's inevitable that a coach will say something to his child he wouldn't
say to another player. When a pre-teen Derek Jeter wouldn't shake hands
with the other team after a loss, his father/coach told him it was
"time to grab a tennis racket, since you obviously don't know how to
play a team sport." And Tampa Bay Rays slugger Evan Longoria's dad told
him to stop crying when the boy was pitching at age 8.
"I can just remember him walking out to the mound and him giving me that
stern look – almost a yell, but not really – saying, 'What are you
doing crying out here?' " Longoria said. "But he made sure not to go too
far with his look because he didn't want me to cry even more."
Coaching a son or daughter is not a prerequisite for getting him or her a
college scholarship or reaching the pros. The father of J.D., Stephen
and Tim Drew – the only family to have three first-round draft picks –
didn't coach. But regardless of a child's talent, a parent might choose
to coach. It can be tremendously rewarding. And most youth sports
organizations will gladly accept another volunteer.
What follows is a short guide to coaching your own son or daughter. The
examples are from baseball players, but the lessons can be universal to
any sport:
•
Understand when to be a coach and when to be a parent:
As soon as a game or practice ends, make a quick transition back to the
unconditional love of a parent. Do not be the coach to your child at
home; do not parent your child on the field. Develop a clear separation
of roles. Keep in mind that you will be a parent for life; you will only
be a coach for a while.
New York Yankees pitcher Phil Hughes admits his dad was tougher on him
than on his youth teammates. Even today, Hughes' father will call him
after games.
"He'll leave these hour-long voicemails about everything I need to
remember," Hughes said. "He especially leaves a message on my phone if
he watches the game and knows I struggled a little bit. He'll leave
questions like, 'Was your sinker working?' Then I'll call him back and
say, 'I don't throw a sinker.' And he'll say, 'Then why don't you throw
one next time, or learn one?' "
Suggestion: Talk to your child about the difference between your role as
a coach and as a parent. Have him or her call you "coach" during
practice and games, and have them transition back to "dad or "mom"
immediately afterward.
•
Avoid playing favorites or being too tough on your child:
Showing favoritism to your child will strain his or her relationship
with teammates. It will be obvious to everybody but you. On the other
hand, being too tough on your child can make the child feel as if he or
she is being unfairly punished just because dad is the coach. Treat your
child as a member of the team – nothing more, nothing less.
"My dad didn't ever want other kids or parents to think he was showing
favoritism toward me, so I always had to prove myself on my own,"
Chipper Jones said. "My dad taught me the fundamentals of the game, but
he had the other coaches take care of the discipline end of the game. It
worked out great."
Suggestion: Ask a trusted an assistant coach or parent to be brutally
honest with you and inform you if you are showing favoritism or are
being too hard on your child. And don't get defensive when the person
says what you might not want to hear.
•
Don't discuss coaching issues with your child: Do not
discuss teammates. Do not compare players or siblings. Let post-game
analysis wait until you are again in the role of the coach. Make the
transition to parent and if your child wants to bring up the game to
you, answer from the parent perspective.
The father of Sean Rodriguez, an infielder with the Tampa Bay Rays, was a
professional scout and coach who also coached Sean since he could swing
a bat.
"He was never hard on me, never screamed at me, never got mad at me, and
never called me out on the field," Rodriguez told Tobin. "My dad was
great. Whenever I did something wrong he was more quiet than anything
else and then I knew something was wrong. He wouldn't even say anything
when I got back to the car. He always wanted me to figure out what I did
wrong.
"That was his biggest thing – for me to figure it out on my own. It was
his way of teaching me a lesson – a lesson for me to self-teach myself,
self-correct myself, and self-discipline myself."
Suggestion: Never rehash the game in the car with your child on the
drive home. As soon as you turn on the ignition and pull out of the
parking lot, you are a parent, not a coach. In your mind, every traffic
sign you see as you approach your house should read, "Dad's Home."
•
Know when to stop coaching: Recognize when the time
comes to step aside and let someone else coach your child. This may
happen either because of ability (yours or the child's) or because your
child makes it clear he or she doesn't want you on the field anymore.
Brown said this often occurs when youngsters turn 13 or 14.
Curt Schilling's father, Cliff, never got to see him pitch in the major leagues. (AP)"Make
a smooth transition from coach to parent-spectator-encourager," Brown
said. "Don't hesitate to do some scouting to make sure the coach who
succeeds you is a good one for your child. Remember the kind of parent
support that you appreciated when you were coaching and give it to your
child's new coach."
Maddux recalled when his father came to this realization, saying, "At
that point he stayed completely out of it. He let the other coaches
coach. Yet, he was still there every game I played."
Youngsters absolutely appreciate parents being involved in their sports
careers, from T-ball all the way to the big leagues. And the dad's voice
lingers in a child's memory long after they cease taking the field
together as coach and player.
Former All-Star pitcher Curt Schilling's father, Cliff, coached him
throughout youth league and predicted early on that his son would make
the major leagues. He was thrilled when Curt was a second-round pick of
the Boston Red Sox in 1986. But Cliff died of a heart attack in 1988, a
few months before his son made his major-league debut.
Curt went on to start 436 major-league games, and he left a ticket for his father at will call at every one.
