Fourteen goals. The kids came off that field like survivors of something. And the coaches packed up the cones, said, good effort, see you Tuesday. And you stood there, wanting somebody official to at least acknowledge the crater.
Hey, it's Sammy, back with the Hey Sammy Podcast, one letter a day from the bleachers of America.
Today, the blowout, and whether the shrug afterward was a failure or a gift. This one's from Nicole in Orlando. She writes, our team just lost by 14 goals, and the kids were devastated.
The coaches acted like it was fine. Should they have handled it differently? I'm going to defend those coaches a little, which might not be what you wrote in for. Hear me out.
Kids don't actually know how big a loss is. They find out by checking the adults. It's the same system as a toddler who falls down and looks up before deciding whether to cry.
So when a coach treats 14 goals like a Tuesday, he's making a bid. This is survivable.
We're okay. See you at practice. Calm isn't indifference. Sometimes calm is the whole curriculum.
Now flip it and imagine the alternatives. A coach who's visibly devastated teaches 10-year-olds that a game can be a catastrophe. A coach who delivers a furious postmortem in the parking lot teaches them losing means punishment.
And the fake cheer guy? The nothing happened here guy with the big grin? Kids see through that instantly. And it teaches them their sadness is...
Um, inconvenient.
Against that lineup, packed up the cones and see you Tuesday starts looking pretty wise. The score already delivered the lesson; nobody needed a speech to go with it.
That said, there's one thing I'd have wanted from those coaches, and it's small. One sentence of acknowledgment, somewhere between the handshakes and the cones. That was a hard one, and I'm proud of how you kept playing. Ten seconds. It tells kids the sadness is allowed and survivable, which is the actual needle to thread. If your coaches skipped that, they missed a beat.
But missing a beat isn't malpractice; it might just be a guy who didn't have the words that day.
Now, your lane. Because the parents own the after. The kids will take their final read from the houses they went home to.
So at home, let the sad exist without amplifying it. Don't relitigate the coaching, the reffing, or the other team's roster at dinner. Just, that one hurt, huh? Then quiet. And maybe food.
My son once lost a tournament game by a score I still won't say out loud. He asked for pancakes on the drive home.
Kids are built better than we think. Check back in a week. If your kid is still carrying it, that's a real conversation. But most of them set it down by bedtime, as long as no adult keeps handing it back.
Because here's the secret gift inside a 14-goal loss. The kids found out the worst case actually happened.
And they're all still here. That's not nothing. That might be the most useful thing this season teaches them.
And if your kid asks the big question, why do we even play them? Be ready. Because sometimes the schedule isn't fair, honey, and we play anyway. That's not a consolation prize of an answer. That's most of adult life. In one sentence a 10-year-old can carry.
One caveat, because fair is fair. If the blowouts are every single week, that's a different letter. A team losing by 14 regularly isn't learning resilience, it's, um, marinating in it. Chronic mismatch is a placement problem, and placement is the league's job to fix.
Kids need to lose sometimes. They don't need to lose hopelessly, always, by halftime. So watch the season, not the game. One crater builds character.
A season of craters builds kids who stop trying on the way to the field. If that's where this is heading, have a calm conversation with the club about the division. Not to protect feelings, to keep the game worth playing.
Here's the one thing for your back pocket: after the next tough loss, say, that one hurt, huh? And then let your kid lead or let it drop. Either is exactly right.
That's the show today! Tell me how your season's going, craters and all! Hey@HeySammy.com. Pancakes optional, but recommended.
