InkyBloodletting Blog

by Parker Watson

“Vulnerability is not weakness; it’s our greatest measure of courage” – Brene Brown

5.4.24 (Lightning Hornet Series)

I coach my son’s flag football team.  I love football.  My son loves football.  My wife loves football.  We are a football family. 

I never played football as a kid.  I had an arm, but my parents loved baseball, so when I showed I could pitch, that was it.  Now, prior to coaching a football game I get highly anxious – imposter syndrome.   

Parents and kids follow me to teams I coach.  I get thank you cards, and kind words exchanged for being such a great coach to the kids.  Parents will drive extra far just to have kids be on my team.  I’ve received praise, respect, and gratitude for being a coach. 

Yet here I am, an hour before game-time, legs bouncing.  Stomach buzzing.  Lightning hornets swarming. 

Fearful – Anxious – Overwhelmed  

Fearful – Insecure – Inadequate/Inferior 

Even though I know the game, and know how to coach, I feel like an imposter.  Because I have never played the game.  I always feel as if plenty of others could do better and should be coaching instead of me.  I don’t feel like I belong.  Even though through external feedback, clearly, I do. 

Once I step onto the field, that all melts away.  It’s all about the kids and helping them learn and love the game of football.  I can’t let them down, and I don’t.  The anxiousness goes away, and the love of the game and the love of coaching come out. 

But every week, before every game, I return to this headspace.  Hours spent going over, refining offense and defensive schemes and plays.  Obsessively overthinking on how to improve, and tailor plays to the kid’s strengths.  Compulsively, drawing, and redrawing up the same play over, tweaking small details, trying to get maximum opportunity for each kid to make a play on any given play called. 

There are weeks when games will be cancelled due to the weather.  I get a great sense of relief when they do.  The feelings of foreboding drain out of me almost instantly. 

Why the hell do I continue to coach then? 

Because I see so many shitty, horrible, football coaches who make it all about themselves.  Who push kids past thresholds and then degrade them, breaking them down, insulting them; thinking it will “toughen” them up.  Who somehow think the kid’s performance is a direct reflection upon themselves as coaches, as individuals. 

So many toxic football coaches.  Trying to overcompensate for their own shortcomings within the game by putting their failures on the backs of kids who just want to play the game and enjoy it.  I’ve witnessed so many kids turning away from sports due to shitty coaches. 

Like leadership, I don’t need to coach, but I must have good coaching for my son.  If there is a void there, I will fill it to ensure it is done correctly and appropriately.  A coach is far more important than just someone to teach the kids a game.  We, whether we like it or not, are in a strong position of influence.  We have the opportunity to build these kids into the best versions of themselves; not just as athletes, but as human beings.