Your daughter's been on this team all year. Every practice, every fundraiser, every freezing Saturday. Then the big tournament came, and the club brought in three guest players. And the guests played more than she did. She held it together until the car. Mostly.
Hey there, Sammy here, and you're listening to Hey Sammy, the show where we say the quiet parts of youth sports out loud. Today, guest players.
And what a tournament lineup tells you about a program's heart. This one's from Erin in Boise. She writes, "Our team brought in three guest players for a tournament, and they played more than kids who have been on the team all year. My daughter was crushed. Is that just how club sports work?"
Erin, let me separate two things, because one is normal, and one is a tell.
Guest players themselves are normal. Rosters get thin, kids get hurt, families travel, and clubs borrow bodies so the team can field a lineup. Nobody should panic about guests existing.
But guests playing over committed, healthy, year-long members? That's not a staffing solution. That's a statement of values. It says this weekend's trophy matters more than the kids who built the team. And your daughter heard the statement loud and clear from a folding chair.
Here's the thing about tournament trophies at this level, by the way they're marketing. Clubs photograph them, post them, and recruit with them. So when a coach stacks a lineup with ringers, ask yourself who that banner is actually for. It's not for the kids watching from the bench.
It's for next year's, um, enrollment brochure.
Now, what to do. And there's an order to it.
First, your daughter, tonight, because her hurt is the realest thing in this story. Don't talk her out of it. Don't say, "That's just club sports." Even if part of you suspects it is. Say, "You're right, that stung, and it wasn't about how good you are."
A kid can survive an unfair weekend. What wears her down is being told the unfairness was in her head. Then remind her what's actually hers. The teammates, the improvement, the season. No guest player took those home in a duffel bag.
Second, the coach. Midweek, with one honest question. "Help me understand the tournament. What's my daughter's role, and why did the guests play ahead of committed kids?" Then listen for which kind of answer you get.
There are real ones. "We were protecting an injury," or "That division was above our level, and I made a bad call." Coaches are allowed one bad weekend, same as kids.
But if you get trophy logic, if you hear, "We needed to win that one," write that down in your memory because he just told you the program's org chart, and your daughter isn't near the top of it.
And there's a bigger conversation this weekend opened, so have it while it's warm. What does your family actually want from this club? Because tournaments will keep coming, and so will the temptation for shortcuts. Some families honestly don't mind the ringers, they like the banners, and that's, um, their math to do.
Yours sounds different, and different is allowed. Write down, together, the three things you're paying this club for. Development, joy, and being valued is a fine list. Then, judge the rest of the season against the list, instead of against each weekend's lineup. Lists keep you steady when the next tournament stings.
And one thing for the drive to the next game, because there will be a next game, loyalty hurt aside, remind her the guest players are just kids too. They didn't draw the lineup. Her beef, and yours, is with a clipboard.
Never with children. Keeping that straight keeps her generous, and generous plays better than bitter every weekend of the year.
Third, the season-end math, done coldly. Loyalty is supposed to flow both directions. Your family gave this club a year of weekends and a stack of checks. If the club's loyalty evaporates every time a trophy is nearby, take the loyalty somewhere it's returned. There are programs out there that would rather develop their own kids than rent better ones. They lose a few more tournaments; their kids come back every year anyway.
That tells you something.
One small assignment before the next practice. Tell your daughter one specific thing she's earned this season that no guest player can touch. Say it plainly, and watch her stand a little straighter.
That's the show for today. If your kid ever got benched for a ringer, I want that story. hey@heysammie.com. I read them all, usually twice.
