The Game is Simple. The Pressure Isn’t.

From the outside looking in, basketball seems straightforward. Five players on the court, working as one to score points while defending their basket. Simple, right? Sure, at first glance, it’s just a game. But take a closer look, and you’ll see the layers beneath the surface. It takes a foundation of fundamental skills to make a basket, and a deep understanding of strategies to keep an opponent from doing the same. Developing those skills? That’s where practice/training comes in. Learning to apply them in game situations? That’s where coaching shines.

A coach’s role extends far beyond teaching the Xs and Os. It’s about equipping athletes with the tools to understand the game, to develop their craft, and to embrace the level of effort and commitment required to achieve excellence. But coaching isn’t just about skill-building and strategies. It’s about shaping character, inspiring purpose, encouraging and helping athletes navigate the court & pressures that come with potential. And here’s where things get complicated.

When kids first step onto the court, it’s pure joy. They play for the love of the game—the friendships, the energy, the thrill of competition. But as their talent starts to shine, something shifts. Suddenly, parents, coaches, and others begin to see their potential, and the game changes. What was once a playground of self-discovery becomes a proving ground for expectations.

The pressure doesn’t start with the athletes themselves—it comes from the adults around them. Parents start setting up schedules and goals. Coaches start offering advice; envisioning greatness. Everyone begins to celebrate the athlete’s successes with such intensity that the love and attention become intoxicating. That’s where it gets tricky. The dopamine rush from accolades and applause is real, and it motivates young athletes to push harder, to give more, to become better. But what happens when the applause fades? The athletes start putting pressure on themselves. They want and sometimes feel like they need applause. 

Here’s the elephant in the room: while we cheer for their potential, we often forget to ask the most important question—What do they want? Do they have the courage to say it out loud? And do we have the courage to listen—without inserting our own expectations?

It’s a step we skip, time and time again. We assume we know best because we’ve seen a glimpse of their potential of great success, we’ve been through it ourselves and we understand the opportunities. We project our visions, our expectations, and our timelines onto them, often without stopping to check if they align with their own. And in doing so, we risk losing sight of what real support looks like.

So, let’s pause. Let’s reflect. Let’s redefine what it means to support young athletes.

Real support feels like a conversation, not a command. It looks like creating space for athletes to explore their “why” without judgment. It’s asking questions like, What do you love about this sport? What are your goals? How can I help you achieve them? And then, it’s listening—truly listening—to their answers.

Real support is about more than celebrating wins or critiquing losses. It’s about being present for the journey, whether they’re at the top of their game or struggling to find their footing. It’s recognizing that their worth isn’t tied to their performance and reminding them that their value goes far beyond the court.

Because at the end of the day, the game isn’t just about buckets and accolades—it’s about learning how to work hard, giving full effort towards goals, learning to forgive mistakes, and facing adversity with belief and confidence. The best athletes aren’t those who never fail, but those who never let failure define them.

So, parents, coaches, mentors—ask yourselves: Are we supporting their dreams with compassion—meeting them where they are, without pressure or conditions? Or are we shaping them into ours, unintentionally making our love feel like it’s tied to their performance? Are we fueling their love for the game, or are we overshadowing it with expectations?

The pressure to succeed will always exist. But if we’re intentional about how we show up for the young athletes in our lives, we can ensure that they don’t just grow into great players—they grow into great people.

If the pressure is feeling too heavy, here’s how athletes can shift their focus:

🔹 Reclaim Your “Why” – Remind yourself why you started playing in the first place. Was it the love of the game? The friendships? The competition? Keep that at the center.

🔹 Control What You Can – Effort, attitude, preparation. Let go of what’s outside your control and focus on the work you put in daily.

🔹 Real Support Feels Like a Conversation, Not a Command – Surround yourself with people who uplift and listen to you. Find mentors and coaches who care about you, not just your stats.

🔹 Detach from External Expectations – Your value isn’t tied to points, rankings, or wins. You are more than the game.

🔹 Choose Love Over Pressure – Play free. Compete with joy. The game will always be there, but your love for it is what truly matters.