At the rink the other day, I bumped into an old teammate. We hadn’t seen each other for years, and as he approached, I could tell he had something to get off his chest.
“Suds, what is it with players nowadays?!”
I leaned in, interested to hear his complaint.
“Ya! Aren't they skilled?” trying to be positive.
“No, not that... They all think they deserve an award. They—and their parents—want me to reward them just for showing up! And on top of that, the League Exec wants me to hand out Participation Awards. Participation Awards, really! Can you believe that, $X!%!”
“Yes, yes, I can. And you know what?” I said, waiting for his reaction.
“You and your Assistant Coaches need to make a real big deal about it.”
He walked away, mind blown. I laughed.
Much has been discussed, written, and studied about the qualities of the very best athletes—the Greatest Of All Time (GOATS).
Where and how do outstanding performances come from?
How do the very best become the very best?
What can we do as leaders in sport to create this level of player?
Experts in physiology, biomechanics, skill acquisition, psychology, and motor learning—as well as scouts, coaches, and GMs—return to some very basic constructs when answering these questions.
Consistency, participation, and support.
To perform, to achieve titles, to win championships, medals, and to achieve personal bests, players must establish the skill of “showing up”.
To show up regularly, ready and prepared. To show up and participate fully.
To establish this foundation, we, as supporters of excellence, need to reward, reinforce, and celebrate participation. We need to create an environment that drives the “want to be there”, one that enriches the experience, and one where physical, cognitive, and social engagement are nurtured.
A few seasons ago, a very skilled player seemingly fell into my back pocket. After playing Tier II Junior hockey, he all but disappeared. Most hockey people in my area had written him off. He was, maybe, injured or something. As it turns out, his family’s business needed him, and he just couldn’t commit to the rigorous Tier II demands. Hearing about my team’s success in a more local Junior B loop piqued his interest. He asked his dad if he could play and gave me a call.
I signed him, and he immediately fit in, contributing on and off the ice. His reputation as a player and teammate was excellent. But as the playoffs approached, I sensed his performance might plateau.
Not because of desire. Not because of talent. But because of his consistency and spotty attendance. He often had to miss practice, and at some games, I wasn’t sure he was going to be there. Almost every other player on our team—and our opponents—had practised and played all year. Their time and investment were clear. Now, league play had tangibly increased in speed, pace, and execution on ice. Contests had become intense battles, fast and precise, competitive, period after period. Games coming into the first round were all close. And now my diamond in the rough player was struggling with fatigue, execution, and on-ice decision-making under pressure.
He hadn’t paid the participation price! And perhaps we both forgot that you can’t expect to just show up in sports. It’s a natural law: athletes and coaches must exercise the hard effort of “being there” regularly, consistently building and incrementally growing together.
Being consistent is difficult. It’s a grind. It demands discipline, resilient actions. These behaviours are practised in quiet early morning arenas, dimly lit gyms, and grungy basements. It’s the garage shootings and solitary skating stride work.
But, most of us would like to believe the best are just born with it—that talent doesn’t have to work hard. But the truth. The talented work the hardest. They do the monotonous deliberate practice (dp). They are always at the rink, at the gym. Always training and always “thinking the game”.
When players are in environments that nurture this effort, things like streaks happen. Outliers suddenly become the norm. And seemingly “unnatural” acts of athleticism start to flow for teams and with individuals with relative ease.
Discussions with elite-level coaches and my own experience repeatedly indicate that the price that must be paid to perform is consistent participation. Just before last year’s NHL playoffs, I reached out to a coach to offer congratulations. In our conversation, he outlined the incredible challenge of being one of the top teams in the league. One thing stood out when he described his players:
“...these are hard men, who like to do hard things at the hardest of times.”
He explained that the best players gain comfort with uncomfortable tasks. They relish the physical and mental challenges that stack in an unrelenting manner. They like building resilience and mastery through repeated tests that most people would turn and skate away from.
World and Olympic medal winners echo this example: the requirements to perform on a world stage demand the kind of sacrifices most people aren’t good at making—being there when everything and everyone says the price is too high is the hallmark of a world champion. The ability to show up ready to accept really big challenges is another thing they have become good at.
The only way to get good at demonstrating resilience, courage, fortitude, and discipline is to celebrate those who are willing to participate—those who continue to want it even when it’s hard.
Of course, many other domains know this fact well: the military, for example, awards tours of duty and tenure with medals and ribbons. These honours signify duty and participation.
Employers reward tenure and celebrate retirements with respect and reverence for employees who have spent their lives working and contributing.
So forget the criticism of the “soft generation” or “entitled youth.” Forget rejecting and minimizing the Participation Award. It is this very act of reinforcement and celebration of consistent participation that fortifies greatness.
Participation is not the finish line—it’s the starting block. It’s the foundation upon which champions are built. Every practice attended, every game played, every rep completed is a brick in the wall of resilience and mastery.
So, coaches, parents, and league executives: make a big deal about participation. Celebrate it. Reward it. Because showing up is the first—and hardest—step toward greatness.
