About a month ago, I became an assistant coach for our daughter Madison’s girls’ basketball team. (Yes, Madison is technically my stepdaughter. If you’re new around here and want a little more context on our family, you can read this blog.)
One of the dads stepped up to be head coach, and I quickly raised my hand to help. For context, the last time I played on an actual basketball team was in Grade 8. So… it’s been a minute. 🙄
Neither of us has ever coached basketball before, which means we’re figuring this whole thing out as we go. How to run a practice. What drills to do. How to teach certain skills. And how to keep eleven 8- and 9-year-old girls engaged for an hour and a half, twice a week.
And let me tell you, being a beginner is uncomfortable.
I have basketball drills running through my head at all hours of the day. No joke. I’m literally dreaming about warm-ups. Coming up with challenges for the girls to do at home. Watching videos. Asking a million questions. It’s taking up a ridiculous amount of space in my brain.
Last week, a friend of mine who’s been coaching girls’ rep basketball for eight years came out to help run one of our practices. (And by help, I mean she ran the whole thing. Flawlessly, I might add.)
She was UNREAL.
She knew exactly what to do. How to explain things, how to correct the girls, how to keep them moving. They were engaged, learning, having fun, and absolutely wiped by the end of it (in the best way). I stood there watching her thinking, WOW. This is what eight years of experience looks like.
And if I’m being totally transparent, I left that practice feeling a little defeated. I want to be that kind of coach for these girls. A strong woman who knows her stuff. Someone they look at and think, I could do that one day. And at that practice, I felt really far from it.
Then Greg (very lovingly) reminded me of something pretty obvious. She’s been doing this for EIGHT YEARS. I’ve been doing it for about four weeks. Of course she’s better at it than I am!
We seem to forget that everyone was a beginner once. We compare ourselves to people who’ve been doing something for years and somehow expect to be just as good at it.
A couple of weekends ago, we played our first two games. It was our first time coaching a real game, and for almost every girl on the team, it was their first time PLAYING in one. A whole team of rookies. Coaches included.
We lost both.
But the girls played SO hard. They encouraged each other, they listened, and they never gave up. The gym was SO loud from the cheering fans in the stands that we practically lost our voices trying to coach from the sidelines. It was awesome!
And while I'm fairly certain our team lunch at Boston Pizza was the highlight of the day for the girls, that's beside the point. ;)
I’m already so attached to these young athletes. They look to me for guidance. They listen when I give them feedback. They trust me. And I don’t take that lightly.
Which is exactly why this next part got me so fired up.
A parent recently told me that a boy at school made fun of one of our players for playing basketball. Apparently, he told her it was a “boys’ sport.”
PARDON ME?!
What year is it? Are you freaking kidding?! That made me legit ragey. And even MORE motivated to be doing this.
We talked about it at the dinner table the other night, and our three boys were just as shocked. They could not believe a boy would say that to a girl. (Proud mom moment. 🥹) Then Greg asked the kids to name some professional female athletes. Any sport.
Crickets.
Madison can rattle off a ton of male hockey and baseball players. But between her and her brothers, they came up with one, maybe two women. And I’m embarassed to admit Greg and I didn’t do much better.
Which isn’t all that surprising. We watch a LOT of sports in our house. Hockey, football, baseball... there's almost always some game on. But when I really think about it, pretty much ALL of the athletes we're watching are men.
We’ve come a long way. But that dinner made it really clear that we (and the world in general) still have a lot of work to do.
I want Madison, and all of these girls, to grow up seeing strong female athletes. I want them to know they belong in sports. That they can compete, lead, stand up for themselves, and do whatever the hell they want to do in life. And I want Madison to see me trying something new, even when I don’t have it all figured out.
But if I’m being real, this isn’t just about them. Coaching is giving me something I didn’t even realize I was missing.
For years, I played soccer in women’s and co-ed leagues. I LOVED it. The competition, the teamwork, the friendships, and having this whole other community outside of my everyday life. Then I tore my ACL and meniscus, and eventually made the tough call to retire from soccer.
I kept running for a while, but with osteoarthritis in my knees now coming in HOT, I’m more of a walker these days. (Plus Peloton and weightlifting, which I love.) But none of those are team sports. And I think I’ve missed that way more than I realized.
Greg and I run a business together, raise four kids together, and spend roughly 97% of our waking hours together. (Love you, Greg. 😂) And I wouldn’t trade it. But my world has gotten a lot smaller than it used to be. Outside of family and a few close friends, I’m not around a lot of other people.
So walking back into a gym and being part of a team again has been a really big deal for me. Even if this time, I’m on the sidelines.
I’m getting to know these eleven girls, cheering them on, watching them improve, and feeling that electric buzz of working toward something together. I’m also getting to give back. To be part of something that has nothing to do with our work, business goals, or anything else we’re trying to build.
And I’m freaking LOVING it.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Four busy kids, a business and household to run… did I really need to add one more thing to my calendar?
Probably not.
But here I am, dreaming about drills, planning challenges, and getting ridiculously excited about watching 8-year-olds learn how to make a layup. It’s fulfilling in a way I can’t totally explain yet. And I never would’ve found it if I hadn’t raised my hand and been willing to be a beginner.
I still have SO much to learn. Like, A LOT. I’m going to make mistakes. I’m going to run drills that totally flop. And I’m definitely going to have moments where I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.
But I’m okay with that.
Because these girls don’t need me to be an expert basketball coach right now. They need someone who shows up, encourages them, believes in them, and cares about helping them get better. And that, I can absolutely do.
I’m not saying everyone needs to go volunteer to coach a kids’ sports team. (Although if you’ve been thinking about it, this is your sign.) But maybe there’s something you’ve been curious about. Something you’ve wanted to try. Or an opportunity that’s come your way that feels a little outside your comfort zone.
Maybe it’s worth a shot. You don’t have to be good at it yet. You don’t even have to know what you’re going to get out of it.
Just be willing to be a beginner.
You might find something you didn’t even know you were missing.
