three perspectives - one goal

Player development requires communication. And communication has to go both ways.

There are a few questions I ask players all the time.

How do you think you played?

What did you see there?

Why did you make that decision?

What could you have done differently?

And, occasionally:

What in the world were you thinking?

That last one usually gets a smile.

But there's a reason I ask questions instead of immediately giving players the answer.

I want them to think.

I want them to learn how to evaluate themselves. I want them to become comfortable talking about what they're seeing and feeling on the ice. Eventually, I want them to recognize a mistake before I ever have to point it out.

That's part of developing a hockey player.

But lately I've been thinking that maybe we, as adults, need to get better at asking questions too.

Because we spend an incredible amount of time talking about our young hockey players.

Parents talk to coaches.

Coaches talk to parents.

Coaches talk to other coaches.

Parents definitely talk to other parents.

Believe me, we know.

But somewhere in all those conversations is the person we're supposedly doing all of this for.

The player.

So maybe every once in a while we need to stop talking about them and make sure we're actually listening to them.

Three People. Three Different Views.

I think healthy youth hockey development has a pretty simple communication triangle:

PLAYER ↔ PARENT ↔ COACH

The important part isn't the three words.

It's the arrows.

Every one of them needs to go both ways.

The coach sees one version of your player.

We see how they practice. We see how quickly they respond to instruction. We see how they compete when they're tired. We see how they interact with teammates and how they react when something doesn't go their way.

We might notice that they're becoming more confident with the puck before they ever score another goal.

We might also notice that they're struggling with something they don't talk about at home.

Parents see another version.

You see the ride to the rink.

You see the ride home.

You know whether they're packing their hockey bag two hours early because they can't wait to leave or whether you're reminding them for the fourth time to find their gloves.

You see confidence away from the rink.

You hear things coaches never hear.

And then there's the player.

They're the only person actually experiencing all of it.

None of us has the complete picture by ourselves.

That's why communication matters.

Learning to Speak Kid

Young hockey players aren't always particularly good at explaining complicated emotions.

Actually, neither are most adults, so maybe we should cut them some slack.

A ten-year-old probably isn't going to climb into the car and say:

"Dad, I feel like my current competitive environment is exceeding my confidence level and I'm becoming increasingly afraid of making mistakes."

They're going to say:

"I hate practice."

Okay.

That means something.

But what?

Maybe practice really is terrible.

Maybe practice is too easy.

Maybe it's too hard.

Maybe they were corrected several times and they're embarrassed.

Maybe another player said something to them.

Maybe they're frustrated because they can't perform a skill everyone else seems to have figured out.

Or maybe they're tired and hungry and ten years old.

We have to learn to translate.

"Coach doesn't like me."

Why do you feel that way?

"I don't want to play defense."

What don't you like about it?

"I want to play travel."

What about travel sounds exciting to you?

"I don't want to go to hockey today."

Okay. Why?

The first sentence isn't always the answer.

Sometimes it's just the beginning of the conversation.

Don't Be So Quick to Fix It

This one is hard for parents.

It's hard for coaches too.

A player tells us there's a problem and our adult brain immediately goes:

PROBLEM DETECTED. MUST FIX.

Sometimes we need to resist that urge.

If your player comes home and says:

"Coach yelled at me."

You probably don't need to send an email from the parking lot.

Ask another question.

What happened?

What did Coach say?

What happened before that?

How did it make you feel?

What do you think Coach wanted you to do differently?

Maybe there really is something that needs to be addressed.

There absolutely are times when adults need to step in and advocate for children.

But maybe your player simply got corrected.

Maybe they were embarrassed.

Maybe the coach communicated poorly.

Maybe the player misunderstood.

Maybe Coach had a bad moment.

Or maybe there's a bigger issue.

You don't know yet.

So listen.

One of the best things we can teach young athletes is that uncomfortable moments aren't automatically bad moments.

Sometimes frustration is part of learning.

Sometimes criticism is useful.

Sometimes we need help.

And sometimes something really isn't right.

Learning to tell the difference is part of growing up.

What Does Your Player Actually Want?

This question gets really interesting as players develop.

Parents naturally want opportunities for their kids.

We want them to succeed.

So they make an advanced team and we start thinking about travel.

They make travel and suddenly we're looking at AA.

They make AA and someone mentions AAA.

Before long we're building a developmental roadmap for a kid who may have been perfectly happy playing hockey twice a week and spending Saturday afternoon riding their bike.

Meanwhile:

Dad wants travel.

Mom thinks travel would be great.

Grandpa has already found three spring tournaments.

Coach thinks the kid has potential.

And the ten-year-old wants to play hockey on Tuesdays and Minecraft the other six nights.

We may have a slight communication problem.

There is nothing wrong with wanting more.

There is also nothing wrong with not wanting more.

Some kids want every bit of hockey they can get.

They want another practice.

Another game.

Another clinic.

Another tournament.

They want harder competition and become energized when they're pushed.

Great.

Feed that fire.

But some kids love hockey without wanting hockey to become their entire life.

That's okay too.

So maybe instead of asking:

"Do you want to play travel?"

Ask:

"Do you want more hockey?"

Do you want harder practices?

Do you want to play more games?

Would you enjoy practicing another day every week?

Would you rather play hockey this weekend or have the weekend off?

What is your favorite part of hockey right now?

What's your least favorite?

Those answers tell us much more.

The ice can always tilt

There's another thing adults need to remember.

What a player wants at eight doesn't have to be what they want at twelve.

And what they want in September doesn't necessarily have to be what they want in March.

Kids change.

They develop.

They discover other interests.

They become more competitive.

Sometimes they become less competitive.

Sometimes a player who didn't want additional hockey suddenly catches fire and wants to live at the rink.

Sometimes the kid who couldn't get enough hockey at 10U needs a little room to breathe at 12U.

That's why communication can't be one conversation we have at the beginning of the season.

We need to keep checking in.

Not constantly.

Not after every bad game.

But enough to know whether we're still traveling in the same direction.

Your Coach Should Be Approachable

I think this is incredibly important.

Parents should feel comfortable talking to their player's coach.

Not necessarily five minutes before puck drop.

Please don't do that to us.

And maybe give us a little time after a tough game before asking why Johnny wasn't on the ice with 37 seconds remaining.

We're human too.

But there should be an appropriate time and place where you can approach your coach and have a conversation about your player's development.

You should be able to ask:

What are you seeing?

Where have you seen improvement?

What are they struggling with?

What's the next thing you'd like them to develop?

Is there something we can reinforce away from practice?

Those are fantastic conversations.

And as coaches, we need to be willing to have them.

If I'm coaching your child, I should be able to explain what I'm seeing and what I'm trying to accomplish.

And sometimes a parent is going to tell me something I wasn't expecting.

Maybe:

"She's losing confidence."

And I'm thinking:

Really? She looks incredibly confident at practice.

That's useful information.

Maybe:

"He thinks you're disappointed in him."

I may have never intended to communicate that.

That's useful information too.

Maybe the parent thinks I'm doing something wrong.

Here's the uncomfortable part for coaches:

Maybe I am.

Approachable Goes Both Ways

We can't talk about approachable coaches without talking about approachable parents.

Those arrows still go both ways.

If we expect a coach to listen without immediately becoming defensive, we have to offer them the same thing.

A coach might tell you:

"He's struggling with effort in practice."

That's hard to hear.

Our first instinct is naturally to protect our child.

Maybe there's another explanation.

But before finding one, ask:

"What are you seeing?"

A coach might say:

"I think another year at this level could really benefit her."

That doesn't necessarily mean:

"Your daughter isn't good enough."

Maybe it means exactly what was said.

Ask why.

What does she need to improve?

Where is she behind?

Where is she ahead?

What would you like to see over the next six months?

What opportunities would another year here give her?

Now we have a conversation.

Being approachable doesn't mean always agreeing.

It means creating enough trust that disagreement can become a conversation instead of a confrontation.

Coaches Need to Be Coachable Too

I tell players all the time that one of the most valuable characteristics they can have is coachability.

Listen.

Try.

Accept correction.

Ask questions.

Don't immediately make excuses.

Then try again.

But if we're going to demand that from a ten-year-old, coaches probably need to live under the same expectation.

A parent might criticize something I've done.

Another coach might tell me a drill isn't working.

A player might tell me they don't understand what I'm teaching.

My first reaction can't always be to explain why I'm right.

Maybe I am right.

But maybe I'm not.

Maybe the drill that worked perfectly with one team isn't working with this group.

Maybe my explanation makes perfect sense to me because I've been around hockey for decades, but it means absolutely nothing to a nine-year-old.

Maybe my tone didn't match my intent.

Maybe I missed something.

Criticism isn't automatically an attack.

Sometimes it's information.

And information gives us an opportunity to grow.

That applies to players.

It applies to parents.

And it absolutely applies to coaches.

Let the Player Learn to Communicate Too

There's one arrow in our communication triangle we shouldn't overlook.

Player ↔ Coach.

As kids get older, we should gradually help them communicate for themselves.

If a 13-year-old wants more opportunities, maybe Mom doesn't always need to email the coach.

Maybe the player needs to ask:

"Coach, what do I need to work on to earn more opportunities?"

That's a powerful conversation.

And probably an uncomfortable one.

Good.

That's development too.

Learning how to ask for feedback, hear something difficult, process it and work toward improvement is a skill that extends far beyond hockey.

Obviously this changes with age.

I'm not expecting a nervous eight-year-old to schedule a performance review with Coach Wes.

But we can start building those skills early.

Ask the coach a question.

Tell them when you don't understand.

Say when you need help.

Learn how to advocate for yourself respectfully.

Eventually, we want players who don't need Mom and Dad to handle every difficult conversation.

Are They Actually Developing?

Communication also helps us recognize something that's surprisingly difficult to measure.

Development.

Goals are easy to count.

Assists are easy to count.

Wins are easy to count.

Team levels are easy to identify.

Development is messier.

Maybe your player hasn't scored more goals this season.

But six months ago, they panicked whenever the puck came to them.

Now they're holding it.

Looking up.

Making a decision.

That's development.

Maybe they're finally using their body to protect the puck.

Maybe they're communicating with teammates.

Maybe they're recovering after mistakes instead of shutting down.

Maybe they're becoming a leader.

Maybe they're recognizing their own mistakes before the coach says anything.

Those things matter.

So don't only ask:

"What level is my player playing?"

Ask:

"What is my player learning?"

And if you aren't sure, that's a fantastic conversation to have with their coach.

And Every Once in a While...

Ask the simplest question.

"Are you still having fun?"

Then do something surprisingly difficult.

Don't answer it for them.

Don't remind them how much the season cost.

Don't tell them how talented they are.

Don't explain that they're just frustrated because they lost.

Don't tell them they'll regret quitting.

Don't immediately start solving the problem.

Just listen.

Maybe the answer is an enthusiastic:

"YES!"

Awesome.

Maybe it's:

"Yeah... but..."

Pay attention to what comes after the "but."

And maybe someday the answer is no.

That doesn't automatically mean we quit hockey tomorrow.

But it does mean we should probably start asking some more questions.

Keep Your Head Up

We spend a lot of time teaching young hockey players to keep their heads up.

See the ice.

Know what's around you.

Don't stare at the puck so long that you miss everything happening in front of you.

Maybe that's a pretty good lesson for the adults too.

Look around.

Listen.

Ask questions.

Talk to your player.

Talk to their coach.

Let their coach talk to you.

And as your player gets older, encourage them to become part of those conversations themselves.

Be willing to hear an answer you weren't expecting.

Be willing to hear criticism without immediately defending yourself.

Be willing to change direction when the information in front of you tells you it's time.

And remember that the three people in this little triangle aren't opponents.

Player ↔ Parent ↔ Coach

We're supposed to be on the same team.

Our expectations may be different.

Our perspectives will definitely be different.

We won't always agree.

That's okay.

The goal isn't perfect agreement.

The goal is making sure we're communicating well enough to keep asking the question that matters:

Is this player learning?

Are they being challenged?

Are they growing?

Do they still love coming to the rink?

And perhaps most importantly:

Is the hockey experience we're building still the experience they want?

Don't be afraid of the answer.

Whatever it is, that's where the next conversation begins.

— Coach Wes
Fundamental Hockey Academy