Not much I have set out to do was accomplished without setbacks. Losing elections before I won, not passing the bar the first time, Not getting into law school right away, the list goes on. I have made mistakes and faced tragedy and loss beyond my control. You are not often appreciated for your skill at the moments you choose. Life is not fair and we are not perfect. There are thousands of coaches who know the game but kids need and want more than just an expert in the sport they want and need a life coach.
At first, when you begin coaching you focus on becoming the best at understanding and teaching techniques of the game. I coached lineman, line backers, catchers , pitchers, outfielders and hitters. I worked hard at learning the best way to teach techniques and speak in a way kids understood. Most seasons I coached ages 7-17 in two sports and had to manage the way I coached to a variety of ages. Over time, I realized that the technique and coaching experience was essential, it was not what kids gravitated to or responded to.
Kids can see the authentic you. They can see honestly and empathy and know if you’re teaching from your heart. I have found that coaches do not even have to detail their life’s journey for kids to know you speak from experience and a road traveled.
In my city ,yes some kids know I was Mayor or Senator or now an attorney and that for brief seconds helps. Knowing families over generations also helps. Familiarity and trust is real capital with families and kids. However, more than those things by far is kids knowing you are deeply vested in their success and understanding and can relate to their challenges and life experiences.
Empathy is demonstrated by words and showing up off the field
Coaches can say words and be consistent in approach but my experience is that proving you care comes off the field. All good coaches show up for practice and do the extras but Great coaches show up at funerals, Graduation parties, Knock a door on a missing kid and support players long after they graduate from that team. Kids get to college and hate it, some never go to college and need guidance. Moms call and say you need to call him. He needs you. Families see you as more than a coach. Kids see you as a mentor. Those actions demonstrate a coach’s commitment to the person, not the player. Doing those things can only come from the heart. Over time, I realized that coaching hundreds of games and running thousands of practices is not what made me the coach I am. It was my life experience and my ability to translate tragedy into empathy that made my coaching different.
Over time, I realized that the lessons I was teaching kids after a tough loss were the same lessons I needed to apply to myself in politics, law, and leadership.
Kids Experience Failure Without Filters
Adults are good at disguising failure. We blame systems, timing, opponents, or circumstances. Kids do not have that muscle yet.
When a kid strikes out or drops a pass, the disappointment is immediate and raw. You see it on their face. You hear it in their silence. There is no pretending it does not hurt.
As a coach, you cannot ignore that moment. You have to help the kid process it honestly. That experience taught me something important. Failure does not need explanation first. It needs acknowledgement.
In adult life, we rush past that step. Coaching taught me to pause, recognize the loss, and deal with it directly.
How You Respond Matters More Than What Happened
Kids watch closely after they fail. They look to the coach to see what the failure means.
If you overreact, they panic. If you minimize it, they feel dismissed. If you stay steady, they recover faster.
That lesson carries straight into adult leadership. After a failed campaign or a lost case, people watch how you respond. Staff, colleagues, and communities take their cue from you.
Failure does not define the outcome. Response does.
You Cannot Yell Confidence Into Someone
I learned quickly that you cannot shout a kid back into confidence. Confidence returns through action, not words.
After a mistake, the best thing you can do is get the kid back into the flow. Another rep. Another drill. Another chance.
In politics and law, adults often do the opposite. We withdraw after failure. We overthink. We hide.
Coaching taught me that momentum heals faster than analysis. Get back in motion. Do the work. Confidence follows.
Failure Is a Teaching Moment If You Let It Be
Every missed play is data. Kids understand this instinctively when you frame it right.
What went wrong. What can we do differently next time?
There is no shame in the question. It is practical. That approach turns failure into information.
As an adult, I learned to apply the same lens. When a campaign failed, I stopped asking why and started asking what now. That shift made failure useful instead of paralyzing.
Fairness Builds Trust After Loss
One of the fastest ways to lose kids after a tough loss is to play favorites. Kids know when standards change.
As a coach, you have to be consistent. The rules do not change because someone is struggling. They also do not disappear because someone is talented.
That lesson translates directly to leadership. After failure, leaders are tempted to protect certain people or narratives. That erodes trust.
Fairness after loss keeps teams intact.
Kids Move On Faster Than Adults
One of the most humbling things I learned is that kids recover faster than adults when they are guided well. I like to give players a rational and explanation for my actions which I believe they deserve.
They feel disappointment deeply, but they do not carry grudges. They want to get back out there. Coaches need to understand that but do not abuse that quality.
Adults often do the opposite. We hold onto failure as identity. We replay it. We attach meaning that does not serve us.
Coaching reminded me that recovery speed is a choice. You can feel the loss and still move forward.
Responsibility Without Shame
When a kid makes a mistake, the goal is accountability without humiliation.
You name what happened. You explain what to do differently. Like with life you understand, reflect and correct.Then you move on.
That balance is hard, but it is essential. Shame freezes growth. Responsibility enables it.
In adult leadership, we often miss this balance. Either we avoid accountability or we punish it.
Coaching taught me that growth lives in the middle.
Loss Creates Empathy
Watching kids struggle made me more empathetic as a leader.
When you see a ten year old fighting back tears after a tough game, it is impossible to forget how vulnerable failure feels. That awareness changes how you treat adults who are struggling.
It made me a better public servant and a better lawyer. I listen more. I judge less. I remember that everyone is carrying something.
Teaching Resilience by Modeling It
Kids do not learn resilience from speeches. They learn it from watching adults handle disappointment.
If you sulk after a loss, they learn that failure is something to fear. If you reset and refocus, they learn that failure is temporary.
That lesson came back to me again and again. If I wanted kids to recover well, I had to model it. The same is true in leadership.
Why This Lesson Stuck With Me
Coaching kids reminded me that failure is part of growth, not a verdict on worth.
Politics, law, and leadership are full of losses. Some are public. Some are quiet. None of them end the story unless you let them.
The sidelines taught me to keep failure in proportion, to recover with discipline, and to stay engaged.
Failure Is A Moment
Kids understand something adults forget. Failure is a moment, not an identity.
What coaching kids taught me is simple and powerful. Acknowledge the loss. Learn from it. Get back in the game.
Those lessons apply everywhere. On the field. In City Hall. In the courtroom. And in life.
That is the kind of education you cannot get from books or titles. You earn it on the sidelines.