Do You Know Why Your Players Are Playing?
When I was growing up, motivation was simple. How hard do you run? How much do you put in on the fifty-fifty? Nobody asked why you were playing. Everyone was swept up in it. Everyone wanted to be a pro. That was the answer.
But when I look at the players I coach now — and think about my own kids starting to find their sports — I realise we don't ask the question nearly enough. Why are you playing? What's the motivation?
Because the answer is different for every single player on your roster. And if you don't know what it is, you're coaching a group of kids you only half understand.
The Mismatch Nobody Talks About
Here's something that kills me when I'm consulting and directing: coaches whose motivation doesn't match the players they're working with.
A new coach comes into a club. They're given a second team, third team, development group — players who are there because they love the game and want to have fun. But the coach is ambitious. They want to prove themselves. They want to win every game so they can move up and work with the top teams. Their motivation is to win. Their players' motivation is to play.
Those two things can coexist. But only if you know the gap is there. If you don't, you end up demanding things from players that they were never really signed up for.
I also have a set of twins in one of my groups this season. One plays soccer. The other plays football. They argue constantly about whose sport is better — genuinely, as siblings do, putting each other's preferences up against each other. And honestly? They might both continue playing their sports out of spite. Just to prove the point. That's motivation. Not conventional, but real. And if I know that, I can work with it.
The Baseball Player
I have a player who is a very serious baseball player. Plays shortstop. Smart kid, great at reading where the ball is going before it gets there — that anticipation is trained into him through hundreds of hours of watching hitters and fielding in competition.
I caught him swinging an imaginary baseball bat in the middle of a rondo. Standing on the outside of the activity, completely in his own world, doing his swing.
My first instinct was: don't disrespect my soccer like that. But I stopped myself. I had a conversation with him instead. Found out how serious the baseball was, what the skills involved are, what he loves about it.
And then something clicked. The way he reads a mid-to-low press — hanging around the center circle, watching where the ball is going to come out, and then jumping on it — that's a shortstop reading the play. Same skill, different sport. I told him that. I said: you're not playing soccer and baseball. You're playing the same game in two different environments. The observation, the anticipation, the reaction — that's you.
Something shifted for him. Because now his baseball wasn't a separate thing that had nothing to do with soccer. It was the reason he's good at soccer.
I would never have known any of that if I hadn't asked.
What I Do With Younger Players
With my younger groups, I send a monthly email to families. It has a few things in it, and together they help me track motivation at both the player and parent level.
The first is a juggling record. Just their name and their current score. That's it. Simple submission form. But what it tells me is: are they touching a ball at home? Is the score going up? And the parent response rate — how many families actually fill it in — tells me something about engagement at the family level too. If I've sent three emails and had no response, that's information.
The second is family homework. This month I asked parents to share with their son what their own experience of youth sports was like — what it felt like, what their parents were like on the sideline. Then have the conversation about what the player wants from his parents at games.
For me, growing up: my dad stood on the sideline and gave me a thumbs up. That was it. Never shouted. Just the thumbs up when I looked over. That meant everything. I shared that with my families and said — what does your son want from you? Because if he doesn't want you yelling, and you're yelling every weekend, that's a motivation killer right there. Some kids drop out of soccer not because they don't like soccer, but because they can't separate the game from the way it feels when their parents are on the sideline.
Giving players permission to say what they actually want from the adults around them — that's powerful.
Building the Profile
What I'm doing across all of this is building a picture of each player. Who are their friends in the group? I know two of my players are close — so when I say "get into pairs," I'm not always separating them. Sometimes pairing them together is the coaching choice, because they'll push each other harder and support each other better than they would with a stranger.
I have two Russian-speaking players. I put them together as much as I can. Not to isolate them — to build a green line. Connection is a motivator.
When a player moves on — even if they leave the club — I write up a profile and pass it to parents to share with the next coach. Because that baseball shortstop kid's ability to read and anticipate a game is a gift. It deserves to be passed on, not lost in the transition.
What This Is All For
The desired behaviour — players who fight, don't give up, go home and practice, come back better — that's not something you demand. It's a byproduct of understanding what's actually driving each person in your group.
You don't get there by running the same session for everyone. You get there by asking why they're here. And then actually listening to the answer.
Do you know what motivates each of your players?
Listen to the full episode: Ep. 78 — Motivation
@LeeDunneSoccer