Heads and Volleys, Episode 98 — 🎧 Listen here
I just finished The Talent Thief by Ted Croton, a book about the power of free play and what happens when kids get a consistent space to just play. So this one is part book review, part reality check on how we bring it into our sessions.
As I write this, I'm watching my daughter play. She's the second oldest in the group. And what Ted describes is exactly what's happening in front of me.
The oldest kid makes the rules.
They decide who plays. They decide which way everyone's going. Everyone else falls in line.
Every older sibling already knows this
I'm the oldest in my family. If I said, "We're going to go jump over there," my sisters followed. Away we went.
But here's the part every oldest kid learns, usually without being told.
The oldest is the biggest, fastest and strongest. They can win any game they invent. But if they always win, the little ones say, "I don't want to play anymore. I never get a chance."
And then the oldest kid has nobody to play with.
So the smartest oldest kid starts bending the rules. They let the little one score. They give up the ball at the right moment. Not throwing the game — just accepting small things that keep it competitive. Because if the little ones have a good time, they stick around.
The playground balances itself. Not because anyone wrote a curriculum. Because everyone wants the game to keep going.
Who's the oldest kid on your team?
Look at your group. Who's the player everyone looks to? The one who decides the teams, sets up the game before you get there, tells everyone where to stand?
Now flip it.
At practice, you are the oldest kid on the playground.
You make the rules. You have that power. The question is whether you use it the way the smart oldest kid does.
The playground already answered the goals question
Coaches ask me all the time: what should my goals be for a U6? A U8? A U12?
There are national guidelines that say players should be able to do X, Y and Z. There's the online debate about life skills, maturation, or just having a great time with friends. All of it has a place.
But if you grew up playing on the street — soccer, basketball, hockey, whatever — you know the street already answered this question.
The players keep coming back.
That's the goal. And it isn't just about "making it fun." It's about a balanced game. A game where everyone has a real chance.
Let the playground theory play out
At grassroots level I get two versions of the same question:
"I've got six really good kids and six who aren't very skilled. What do I do?"
"I've got one player who rips it up every time. How do I include them?"
Try this. Hand some of the decisions to the players.
Ask your strongest players: what should the teams be? Who plays where? How do you want to play?
They might say, "The six of us against everyone else." Fine. Let it run. When they start winning — and they will — the other kids run out of gas. They lose interest. And suddenly it's no fun for the six best players either, because they need everyone else on the field.
You'll often see them start changing things up on their own.
For tomorrow's practice, keep it light. Not "Can you build the fairest possible teams?" — don't do that. Just a passing comment:
"Who should be on your team?"
"Who should the other team's leader be?"
"Who should lead the defenders?" (or the attackers, if your best player is a defender)
Then watch what happens.
Through the director's lens
Wearing my technical director hat: if your players don't come back, you failed as the oldest kid on the playground.
You didn't engage everyone. You didn't give everyone a chance. You didn't make it the best place to be.
The best oldest kids give everybody a position, a space, and a real opportunity to be successful. And a club sees the results over and over in retention — how many players and families stay committed to you as their coach.
That last part matters. As a club leader I want families to love our club. But they don't really know the club. They know the coach they see three, four, five times a week.
So, should you play?
Ted argues that because you're the oldest kid, you control the rules and the game — so you should be playing. I think there's space for that.
I was recently asked, "Coach, how did you do that?" The honest, slightly sad answer: I learned it playing on the street with my friends. No coach taught me. (And I'm a coach trying to teach those things — that's for another day.)
Here's a simple version:
Start the game straight away. One player arrives? Play 1v1.
Another shows up? Two of them against you. Now there's real motivation.
Keep adding players to their side until the whole group is in.
Drop out when the game can run without you.
Will your club be fine with you playing all session? Maybe, maybe not. There's a business-of-soccer perception to manage. Ask your director of coaching — they're the one grading you. And parents may have chosen your club because you're the best coach around.
Whether you play or not, the bigger challenge stays the same.
Give them as many decisions as possible
Scrimmage the whole time and coach the flow. Play as a defender to control the midfielders. Use whatever methodology fits — I've talked a lot about those and I'll keep doing it. The test is simple: are they making as many decisions as possible?
Then reward what you want. A team goal, a celebration, a game where doing it a certain way — as a group or an individual — wins.
And change the game as it happens, like the oldest kid does:
Underloads. Ted talks a lot about these. Fewer players means more problems to solve.
Double-value goals for certain players.
Bring players into the game who are on the edges of it.
In coach education I'm often asked, "How do I get my defenders to move forward?" Unfortunately they've been taught defenders stay back. We all know that's not the real game. So make a defender's goal worth two. Or ten. Whatever it takes.
Adopt constraints. Adjust them. But do it to keep the game alive, not break it — so everyone gets some success.
Because when they stop playing, you don't get to play either.
When practice goes flat
Think about the last session that went flat. Hot day, low energy, nobody really working. You walked away thinking, "That was terrible."
There's a good chance the oldest kid on the playground didn't read the room fast enough to say, "Okay, we need to change something."
That's my challenge for you this week. You might play. You might not. Either way, can you raise the environment so your players are playing, competing and having a great time?
Be the oldest kid they want to keep playing with.
Hear the full conversation on Heads and Volleys, Episode 98 — Listen here