Every year around this time I end up doing the same thing — I replay moments in my head.

Not goals.
Not wins.
Not losses.

Moments.

A look on a player’s face.
A tone I used on the bench.
A reaction that was bigger than the moment deserved.

And if I’m being honest, there are parts of this season that I don’t like when I look back at them. Not because we lost. Not because kids didn’t develop. But because I can see times where I let frustration leak out of me in ways that didn’t help anyone.

I get animated. I always have. I care deeply, and that care comes out fast and loud when things aren’t going well. And while that intensity helped me in other environments, I’m learning that at this level, it can do more harm than good.

There are moments on the bench where I can feel myself reacting before I’ve thought.

A bad turnover.
A missed assignment.
A lazy backcheck.

And I’m already talking before I’ve decided what actually needs to be said.

That’s the part I’m trying to change.

Not because emotion is bad.
Not because passion is wrong.
But because kids don’t always hear the message — they hear the emotion.

And when the emotion is frustration, what they feel is pressure.

So coming into this new year, that’s my focus: not coaching less, not caring less, but reacting less.

Pausing before I speak.
Choosing what actually matters.
Letting some things go so I can teach others better.

Here’s the lesson I’m trying to apply:

If I want players to slow the game down, I have to slow myself down first.
If I want them to be composed under pressure, I have to model composure.
If I want them to make better decisions, I have to show what that looks like when things go wrong.

We talk a lot about habits for players — scanning, supporting, stopping, starting, resetting.

But coaches have habits too.

Tone is a habit.
Body language is a habit.
Reactions are a habit.

And the environment we create is built from those habits.

I want my players to feel safe enough to try things.
To fail.
To experiment.
To grow.

And that only happens if I’m steady.

This doesn’t mean lowering standards. It means raising awareness — of myself.

Because the biggest thing I’ve learned this season is that coaching isn’t just about shaping players.

It’s about shaping yourself in front of them.

They’re always watching.
They’re always reading tone.
They’re always feeling the environment we create.

So if the new year is about anything for me, it’s about being more intentional with the one thing I control every single day:

The way I show up.

Not perfect.
Not calm all the time.
Not emotionless.

Just better.

About the author:

I’m a U10 Rep A coach and an OJHL regional scout who’s still learning how to balance standards, emotion, and development at the youth level. I write about what I’m trying, what I’m struggling with, and what I’m learning along the way — in hopes that it helps other coaches who are navigating the same challenges.