What Travel Softball Taught Me the Second Time Around

Ten years ago, I was navigating travel softball with my oldest daughter.

Today, I'm doing it again with my youngest.

My oldest is now 21. My youngest is 13.

What surprises me most isn't how much youth sports have changed.

It's how much I have changed.

When my oldest daughter began playing travel softball, I already had years of coaching experience. I had coached at the college level. I understood the game. I understood player development.

What I didn't understand was myself.

Looking back, I spent far too much time focusing on what other parents were doing, what coaches were doing, what organizations were doing, and whether situations felt fair.

What I couldn't see at the time was how much my own insecurities were shaping the way I viewed those experiences.

I was journaling back then. I was beginning a journey that would eventually lead me to writing my book, creating Teach • Coach • Parent, and doing the personal work necessary to understand how my past influenced my reactions.

At the time, I thought the problem was everyone else.

Now I realize I needed to examine myself first.

As I grew, I began to recognize something important:

Not every difficult situation requires conflict.

Not every uncomfortable situation requires judgment.

And not every opportunity is the only opportunity.

Fast forward ten years.

Now when I walk into a softball environment, I don't just watch the game.

I read the environment.

I watch how coaches interact with players.

I watch how parents speak about other families.

I watch how adults handle adversity.

I watch how athletes respond after making mistakes.

Most importantly, I watch how the environment is shaping my daughter—not just as a player, but as a person.

Because long after the trophies are forgotten, the lessons remain.

One of the biggest mistakes parents make in youth sports is believing that if they leave a team, their child will miss out on the opportunity.

I understand that fear.

I've lived it.

But after years of coaching and parenting, I've learned something different.

There are opportunities everywhere.

There are good coaches everywhere.

There are organizations that align with your family's values.

And sometimes the greatest growth comes from having the courage to walk away from an environment that doesn't.

When my oldest daughter played, there were situations where I stayed longer than I should have.

Not because the situation was right.

Because I avoided difficult conversations.

I hid behind my emotions instead of asking direct questions.

Questions like:

"Coach, is this part of your philosophy?"

"How are playing time decisions being made?"

"What values are most important to your organization?"

The answers would have told me everything I needed to know.

Instead, I spent time wondering.

Today, I ask.

Not because I'm confrontational.

Because clarity creates confidence.

With my youngest daughter, I've learned that one of the greatest gifts we can give our children is placing them around good people.

Good people first.

Good coaches second.

Coaching skills can improve.

Experience can grow.

Knowledge can be learned.

Character matters from day one.

I want my daughter surrounded by adults who demonstrate respect, integrity, accountability, and kindness.

Because young athletes absorb far more than softball instruction.

They absorb energy.

They absorb communication styles.

They absorb leadership.

They absorb how adults treat one another.

Every interaction becomes part of their learning.

That doesn't mean coaches need to be perfect.

None of us are.

It means they need to be people who model the values we hope our children carry into adulthood.

I've also learned that parents need to be careful not to make the journey about themselves.

Ask your athlete why they play.

Ask them what they love about the game.

Ask them what keeps them coming back.

Because one day they may realize they were chasing your dream instead of their own.

And that realization can damage the very relationship we're trying to strengthen.

Our role isn't to steer the boat.

Our role is to help them learn how to navigate it.

Will there be difficult coaches?

Absolutely.

Will there be challenging parents?

Without question.

Will there be unfair situations?

Of course.

But those moments can become opportunities to teach resilience, communication, boundaries, and self-advocacy.

Not bitterness.

Not blame.

Not division.

The second time around, I've realized something simple:

Youth sports are less about finding the perfect team and more about finding environments that align with your values.

The game will eventually end.

The lessons won't.

And if there's one thing travel softball has taught me over the last decade, it's that the most important development isn't happening between the foul lines.

It's happening within us.

As parents.

As coaches.

And as people.

Ten years apart. Two daughters. One game. A completely different perspective."