Supporting the Person, Releasing the Player
“You can’t save someone who loves drowning.”
I shared that quote (I believe I grabbed it from an Instagram post) with a colleague as we were discussing our shared frustration over the response—or lack thereof—from a player we all know is headed in a bad direction off the playing field. We've tried numerous intervention strategies. We've taken away playing time, restricted access to the sport, had long sit-down conversations, and invested countless hours. The player, while always gracious and appreciative of our love for him, simply won't change his decision-making or behavior.
As coaches, we can be as dedicated to the human beings in our program as possible. We can pour into them, love them, and move mountains to help them see a better path. But we cannot force them to take those steps. We can't make them reimagine the beliefs or paradigms that continue to dictate the choices they make. It's one of the maddening aspects of the job, and often the one that keeps you up longer than a scoreboard loss ever will.
Why the quote, then?
Because I think we have to develop a process that helps us determine whether a kid "loves drowning" or is "being pushed into the water."
If he's being pushed, we keep fighting like hell to remove the forces pushing him there. We advocate. We support. We intervene. We refuse to give up.
But if he keeps jumping back in of his own choosing, despite every lifeline that's been thrown his way, we eventually have to release ourselves from the belief that one more conversation is going to change everything.
That's hard.
Every story is different. Every circumstance deserves its own consideration. But we have to have a breaking point.
We have to decide that the player is no longer allowed to occupy a spot in our program while also believing that the person is always worthy of our care and support.
What that looks like for you may be very different than what it looks like for me. That's where the real work gets done. Your capacity, your program's standards, the support systems around the athlete, and the facts surrounding the situation all matter more than any template I can give you.
But you must have a line in the sand, Coach.
Otherwise, you run the risk of pouring so much energy into one young man that you no longer have enough left to serve the others who are asking you, every single day, to help them grow. It's a painful determination, and you'll probably second-guess yourself, especially if the athlete regresses after leaving your program.
But sometimes the consequence of repeated choices is losing access to the sport.
That isn't the same thing as losing access to people who care.
Sometimes removing basketball, football, or wrestling is exactly what a young man needs to begin taking ownership of the rest of his life. If that's where the journey leads, so be it.
Coach Discussion Prompts
How do you distinguish between an athlete who needs more support and one who is repeatedly rejecting it?
Have you clearly defined the point at which a player's behavior costs them a place in your program?
How can you remove someone from the team without communicating that you've stopped caring about them as a person?
Player Discussion Prompts
What's the difference between someone helping you and someone trying to make your choices for you?
When does accountability become a consequence rather than another conversation?
Can someone care deeply about you while still refusing to let you remain on a team? Why?
