The Kids Need Coaches

I spent a few hours this week emotionally preparing for the “draft”. It’s not the NFL, NBA, or MLB draft that had me sweating; it was the SFX Youth Sports, 2022 Spring Baseball Season, Grasshopper Division draft. This draft was important because I had actual skin in the game. I’m preparing for my 12th season as head coach of a coed youth baseball team in the Prospect Park Baseball Association, and it’s time for me to pick my team for the 12th time. 

Near the start of each season I find myself reminiscing. Sometimes I think about the t-ball days, over a decade ago; I recall that experience less as “coaching” kids to play a sport I love, and more like “herding cats”. Other times, I reflect on the longevity of my relationship with many of my players; 2 have been on my team all 12 years (my son and nephew), 2 for 11 years, and a few more for 8, 9 and 10 years. As a result of these long relationships, we’re more a baseball “family”, than a baseball “team”. This year, in preparation for the draft and upcoming season, I ended up reflecting on an experience from before my coaching days, that I didn’t even think was related to coaching, but turns out it is.

Almost 15 years ago, I was a new mom and preparing my dissertation proposal. I was actually chugging along smoothly. Then, I received a suggestion from one of my committee members to add additional material to my theoretical perspective on how “social capital” theory relates to my dissertation topic. I had no idea how “social capital” related to school personnel notoriously over-reporting Black and Brown families to child protection services. However, as anyone with a PhD knows, if a dissertation committee member makes a suggestion, it’s better to just follow through with it, then ask too many questions. After all, I wanted to finish my program, not languish in it.

So, I asked the committee member for guidance on what source materials might help me best understand the context of this theory I never studied before. The answer: “read Bowling Alone, by Robert Putnam”. I assumed this recommended source was a journal article that I could access electronically through the library’s online system. But, alas, it was a book. A BOOK. My committee member wanted me to stop everything I was doing after submitting a full draft of my dissertation proposal, and read A BOOK?!? I had an infant at home! To make progress, so far, I had to figure out how to work on my dissertation proposal while regularly breastfeeding. I was making progress, so far, because I had been conceptualizing my proposal for 2 years before I got pregnant. But, I bought the book, and dug in.

The book ended up being fascinating, and well written; I was able to finish reading it in less than a week. What I learned was that social capital refers to “connections among individuals”. Social capital theory suggests that individuals form connections with other individuals and groups because these connections benefit their own interests. But, social capital in the United States is dwindling. Putnam provided evidence that Americans were disengaging from each other, and their communities, for various demographic and political reasons. As a result, there was a loss in civic engagement, and dwindling numbers of volunteers for community groups. 

“What the heck does this have to do with bowling”, you ask? Well, even though more people (mathematically) were reporting bowling on a regular basis, fewer people were bowling in leagues. Therefore, people were more likely to be “Bowling Alone” (get it), than ever. There was less “togetherness” happening, even when it came to bowling. It took some brain energy to connect this concept to my dissertation topic. But I was able to do so competently enough for students to have to call me “Doctor Krase” for the past 13 years.

Bowling Alone, and social capital theory, came to mind a few weeks ago when I was talking with an old high school friend I recently reconnected with. He is the athletic director at a private school that is in constant need of coaches for their sports teams. He asked if I was interested in coaching for his program; for the record, I am. He explained how hard it is to find coaches because people are so busy, and coaching requires a certain level of commitment. He talked about spending years recruiting coaches from the ranks of local collegiate athletes, and how he’s lucky to get more than one year of service from such a recruit before they graduate, and move on. Then, he has to recruit and train a replacement. We’ll be talking later this spring about possibilities for me to join his coaching staff, and we’ll see what happens next year. 

The difficulty finding coaches for youth sports teams is not unique to private schools, or any school for that matter. With school coaching gigs there is usually some level of monetary compensation, though not substantial. And the hours are complicated. Finding coaches is a constant struggle in volunteer circles, as well. While trying to problem-solve the vacuum of coaches, I found myself recalling Bowling Alone. How would Putnam’s perspective on social capital theory explain why it’s so hard to find coaches?

First there’s the demographics. American birth rates have been decreasing for half a century, but the actual number of kids in the country continues to grow, albeit more slowly. And, even though the rate of participation in sports is decreasing, the actual number of kids playing sports is increasing. There’s also a ton of sports to choose from. The “big three” (i.e. football, baseball, and basketball) are still popular, but so are soccer, track and field, tennis and volleyball. Some sports have seen a reduction in participation over time, namely tackle football. But the bottom line is, there are more kids, and more kids are playing sports; that means higher demand for coaches. 

While there is a growing number of children, adults are less likely to be parents. Coaches, especially volunteer coaches, are most likely to be parents. So, with a declining share of the adult population choosing to become parents, or delaying parenthood until later in life, there is a smaller pool of adults likely willing to coach.

Then there’s the lifestyle changes for adults over time. The start of the 20th century saw a rapid expansion of leisure time for adults across socio-economic status as the 40 hour, five-day, work week became a standard. But by the early 21st century, adults reported feeling more rushed and busy, with growing demands for their time outside of work. A multitude of commitments for adults means less time available for them to serve as a coach.

And then there are the stresses of the coaching role, itself. I don’t think the stress of draft night is a major deterrent to recruiting volunteer coaches. So, what is stopping everyone? 

Coaching isn’t just showing up at game time. There’s finding time in everyone’s schedules to practice, and also making space in the limited space of our evenings and weekends for games. Good coaches need time, and mental space, to identify skills in need of development in players, and then provide the opportunity for the players to learn such skills. Coaching involves figuring out logistical arrangements of players on the field or court, and making decisions about whether the goal is fairness amongst players of differing abilities, or capitalizing for the team’s competitive advantage, or a balance of both. And then there’s the need to effectively communicate all of this to children of various ages and developmental stages, and their parents.

Coaching isn’t easy, and it isn’t always fun. We’ve all seen media reports of the less-than-friendly reception coaches (and officials) get on the field from other coaches, spectating parents from all teams, and even their own child players. Coaches, and youth sports officials, unfortunately, get harassed and disrespected. I, myself, am no stranger to being called names or being cursed at on the field.

While there are a ton of reasons why there aren’t enough coaches, there are so many of us who have been in the role for a long time. On the video conference call that served as this year’s draft, I was greeted with many familiar faces from drafts of the past, as well as new faces. There was a time when I was the only woman in the draft room; now there are a handful of us. Why do people coach? And why do some of us keep coming back?

All the research shows the value of kids playing sports, especially team sports. There are major benefits to their physical, mental and emotional health. The lessons learned on the court, field, ice, etc. are transferable to situations kids face with school, work, friends, and family. And kids need coaches in order to reap these benefits.

While there isn’t the same type of research on how coaching impacts adults, I can say that even with the stress this role causes me, I wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. I LOVE COACHING! I love seeing the kids improve over short and long periods of time. I love seeing the kids cheer and support each other on and off the field. I love connecting with kids, their siblings, their parents, and extended family members. I love it when a player is excited to tell me who is watching them from the sidelines for that game. I love it when a player timidly inquires about whether they can try pitching, or play first base. I love it when a player beams with pride when they make solid contact between the ball and their bat and they watch it fly through the air, or the smile that engulfs their face when they realize the ball fell into their glove to catch a fly ball and they made an out on the field. I even love the feeling of stressing out before the draft; I love it because I know that after the draft, it’s only a matter of weeks before we’re back on the baseball field. 

Social capital may be dwindling, but it’s not gone. There was plenty of social capital at the draft, and plenty of untapped social capital reading this article. I know you’re there… If anyone reading this article is considering coaching, even for a single season, but isn’t sure it’s worth the effort. IT IS! Do it! The kids need us… and maybe we need them, too.