One thing I didn’t expect when I started coaching this age group is how many decisions happen in your head, not on the ice.

Before the season started, it was easy to say I wouldn’t worry about how my decisions were viewed. That I’d coach the game, trust the process, and stay focused on development. And for the most part, that’s still true.

But the reality is, there are moments in games — especially close ones — where decisions feel heavier than they look from the stands.

Shortening the bench late.
Choosing special teams.
Managing shifts in the final minutes.

These aren’t decisions made against kids. They’re decisions made for the game in front of you, while still trying to balance development, confidence, and fairness. And at this level, that balance isn’t always clear.

We’re coaching nine-year-olds. At the same time, we’re also coaching teams that care about competing, learning how to close out games, and understanding situations. Those two truths exist together, and navigating them is part of the role.

I’ve sent expectations to parents. I’ve been transparent about philosophy. And still, I’d be lying if I said the thoughts never creep in.

Did I make the right call?
Was that the right moment?
Should I have handled that differently?

I don’t think those questions come from insecurity. I think they come from caring. Most coaches I talk to go through the same internal dialogue. We want to be fair, we want to develop players, and we want to compete honestly. Sometimes those priorities align perfectly. Sometimes they pull in different directions.

What I’ve learned is that worrying about decisions isn’t the problem. Letting that worry control decisions is.

There’s a difference between reflecting and second-guessing.

Reflection helps you grow.
Second-guessing keeps you stuck.

At the end of the day, coaching youth sports isn’t just about drills, systems, or ice time. It’s about judgment in moments that don’t have perfect answers. It’s about communicating clearly, being consistent, and remembering why you’re there in the first place.

The players don’t see the internal debate.
They see whether you’re steady.
And that steadiness matters more than any single decision ever will.

About the author
I’m a U10 Rep A coach and an OJHL regional scout who writes about the realities of youth hockey — the lessons, the challenges, and the moments that shape both players and coaches along the way.