Worst Part of Coaching

Camp season is here. For Becca it was Monster Camp. For some of my formers, it's "sleep away" camp - varying numbers of weeks away from home, not something I think I could have considered for my daughter at their age. However, I do remember, fondly, the month on the French Riviera with a French family, the bicycle trip through southern England, and the "Castle Rehab" project in Untergruppenbach, Germany, rich sources of stories from my high school summers. It never dawned on me that my parents were probably as glad to be rid of me as I was to be away from them!

But for me it's Softball Camp Season, when we, scrupulously following the rules established by the Missouri State High Schools Activities Association (MSHSAA), teach softball skills to both aspiring athletes and kids whose parents want to be rid of them for a morning or afternoon.

School was no sooner out this year (in fact, there were a couple days left for returning teachers) than we had 56 girls, grades 2-8 (next year) on our field. Fortunately, we also had 15-16 of our returning high school players every day as volunteer helpers, a couple graduates as auxiliary coaches, and great weather, so everybody went home happy. The afternoons are for the high school girls with days set aside for defensive position work, scrimmages with other schools, conditioning and hitting. Next week will be our official high school camp. 

That schedule continues up to the end of July when the Fall Season Dead Period starts. I'm not sure if that refers to the fact that coaches are not allowed contact with their athletes or to the energy level of the coaches (and, to be fair, the girls, because many of them are ALSO playing up to 6-10 weekend or evening games each week). You might think this intensive schedule is the reference to the title of this piece.

Not so.

These summer and camp activities for the high school girls aren't tryouts. Those officially happen in August, but we're starting to get a pretty good picture of who will be trying out and what their skills are. Inevitably the tryout process results in tears and disappointment. When I was the head coach at Hancock I posted the names of those who had made the team(s), but only after I had personally informed (almost all of) those whom I had to cut. 

Reactions varied, from, "That's okay, I'll try out next year," (and she did, for three years, until she finally made the team as a senior) to expressions that said, "Get it over with. I know what you're going to say and you're making me uncomfortable." I think half the time I stammered and looked so miserable that the girls felt worse for me than I did for them. It wasn't a strategy, but it helped me get through the task of being the bearer of bad news. It was also never a complete surprise.

I remember how I felt when I saw my name on the "Cut List" after trying out for the 9th grade basketball team at West Ladue. As obvious as that decision was (maybe 5'2" with neither instincts nor skills), it still hurt, and while I certainly had no inkling that I'd ever coach anything, I remember feeling that somebody should have, at the very least, talked to me, thanked me for trying out.

At Webster, up to this year, decisions have been made before school even started (last year saw 38 girls trying for one of the 28 uniforms), so after 2-5 tryout days we would have to pull aside girls after a day of hard work and give them the bad news. We would encourage them to try out for other sports that needed players or didn't make cuts (cross country). We work at being as sensitive and private as possible, but the other girls know what is being said, sometimes to their friends.

The ubiquity of e-mail has resulted in a few nasty-grams from parents -- and in one case outright confrontation -- but most people understand it's a miserable part of the job. One of the downsides of our program's success is that we are now cutting girls who might even have started not too may years ago. 

I understand those who believe that experiencing failure is part of life and that we shield too many kids from disappointment, that we reward success that isn't really accomplishment, that we're too worried about self-esteem and not enough about hardening these future adults to the harsh realities of life. I understand Rule 15, that if you've never fallen on your face you've never stretched to your limit. 

But I hope I never reach the point where cutting a player is easy. I hope it's always the most miserable day of the season, because when that day becomes easy, or even easier, it's time for me the turn in my (figurative) whistle.