Leadership Lessons From Pee Wee Soccer ⚽️
Years ago, I coached my son's peewee soccer team. The players were four to six years old in a co-ed league, and there were more untied shoelaces than goals. If you've never coached kids that age, picture herding cats: cheerful, unpredictable cats in shin guards.
Early in the season, one of the girls on our team was petrified. One of the boys knocked her down. It wasn't malicious, since at that age nobody has full control of their legs, but it was enough. She got up rattled and nervous, and every time the ball came near, so did her fear.
I knelt down to her level and told her what I believed was true: "You can do this. Don't be afraid of those boys."
That was it. No grand speech, just a coach who believed in her before she believed in herself.
Then something remarkable happened. Practice after practice, she inched closer to the ball. Soon she was chasing it, and then she was beating the boys to it. By the end of the season, the girl who had been afraid to step onto the field was one of the fastest, most fearless players we had. She went from "please don't let the ball come to me" to "that ball is mine."
I've thought about her often in my years as a leader, because I keep meeting her again in the workplace.
She doesn't wear shin guards now. She wears a lanyard. She's the new hire who makes early mistakes and second-guesses every email before hitting send. She's the team member who stays quiet in meetings because she's already been "knocked down" once, by a failed project, a sharp comment, or a moment that stung. From the outside, she may look slow, unsure, even like a poor fit.
But what looks like weakness on day one may simply be potential that hasn't been given room to run.
Here is what that season taught me about leading people:
Recognize. Look beneath the mistakes and ask what strengths are hiding behind the hesitation. Speed doesn't announce itself in a child who's afraid to move, and talent doesn't always announce itself in an employee who's afraid to speak up.
Empower. Give people permission to try. She needed to hear that she was capable before she believed it. Sometimes the most powerful thing a leader can say is, "I believe you can do this."
Encourage. Do it early, and keep doing it. Confidence isn't built in one conversation. It's built through small reminders, high-fives after a good effort, and patience after the next fall.
She didn't transform overnight, and growth rarely does. But because someone stayed in her corner, she found the courage to run.
If I had written her off after that first hard fall, if I had decided she simply "wasn't a soccer player," I would have missed one of the best athletes on my team. How many of our best team members are one encouraging word away from taking off?
Look at your team this week. Who is standing at the edge of the field, waiting for someone to tell them they belong in the game? Be that voice. You may be surprised how fast they run.