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- The Huddle - Edition 55
The Huddle - Edition 55
A weekly newsletter from The Coaching Dad.
The Coaching Dad
July 17, 2025
Intro
My Letter To You
Dear Fellow Parents,
I'm writing this because I just went through the gauntlet of youth baseball tryouts with my son, and—whew—it’s a journey. I write this letter as a dad, not a coach (this time). There are so many emotions and lessons packed into this process that I felt like I had to share one dad’s perspective. Not because I have it all figured out, but because maybe something in our experience can help you feel a little more grounded as you walk this path with your kid.
For what it’s worth, I’m keeping the names of clubs out of this. This isn’t about calling anyone out. It’s about peeling back the curtain on what this all feels like—because trust me, it’s a lot.
There are chapters to this journey. Let me take you through ours.
The Decision
My son had already been part of a club team for the past year. It was our first dip into the club scene, and I felt like a deer in headlights when we started last year—even though I’ve coached and led tryouts before. There’s just something different about being on the parent side. You don’t have the same control. You’re watching from the sidelines, hoping, praying, trying not to let your own nerves spill over onto your kid.
We lucked into a decent situation with our first club. Pretty much everyone who tried out made a team. I know—sounds like a money grab, right? Maybe it was a little, but to be fair, it was a newer organization trying to fill out age levels. And to their credit, it was a good experience overall. My son got to be part of a team, play a full season, and feel what it’s like to earn a spot—even if the stakes weren’t sky-high.
As the season wrapped up, the conversations began. Our coach was leaving. Some teammates were aging up or jumping to other clubs. It became clear the team would be in rebuild mode.
Now, I’m not a big fan of club-hopping. I believe in loyalty. In sticking with a team, riding the ups and downs, learning through adversity. But when the core starts to split, and you’re staring down a big unknown, you at least owe it to your kid to explore what else is out there.
To be honest, we had the option to stay without even trying out again. But that didn’t sit right with me. I didn’t want a fallback plan. I wanted to see what was possible—how he’d respond in a new, more competitive tryout environment.
The Search
If your kid’s played a season of club ball, you start to get a feel for the landscape. You’ve played against other teams. You notice how they carry themselves. You see how their coaches act. And you start making mental notes—maybe this team feels organized, or that one seemed to have good energy, or that group looked like chaos.
I also leaned on my circle—friends with kids in different clubs, baseball dads who’ve been through this. My wife, the MVP of this whole process, went full research mode and scoped out club websites, social feeds, and reputations. We knew we wanted a place that felt like a good cultural fit and wasn’t a logistical nightmare. I’m all for road-tripping to games, but I’m not trying to drive 60 minutes, to and from, for a Tuesday night practice.
We landed on four clubs that felt like real possibilities. I know that might seem small—some families do six, eight, even ten tryouts—but we didn’t want to overwhelm our son. We wanted to focus our effort and be intentional.
The Work
With tryouts looming in the last few weeks of our summer season, I sat my son down and told him we really need to dial things in and use our baseball time well. Not just to go through the motions at practice, but to use each rep as a tryout prep moment.
I kept our focus simple. We worked on four core areas:
Fielding Ground Balls – Glove low, center the ball in your stance, glove and feet make a triangle (glove being under the chin and on the ground), follow the ball with your eyes all the way into the glove. The quick directional statement I’d make is “get your glove dirty” – meaning, get that thing down and focus.
Throwing Mechanics – Take your shuffle steps and fire with purpose. No lazy “rainbow” throws. Throw hard and hit the chest.
Fly Balls – Run to the spot first and then glove up, and squeeze it tight before making any other motion to secure the ball. We talked about not reaching too early with the glove while we’re running to the spot of the ball.
Hitting – He’s a good contact hitter, but we talked about finishing swings with more intent. That we need to swing all the way through. He bats right-handed, so to make things a little more visual I have him imagine that his right hip can shoot a laser and in order to get power we have to shoot the pitcher with the laser. So, the simple direction reminder I give him is “shoot the laser”.
I know some coaches say not to give too many instructions at once. I agree, completely and I know the above four things can be a lot to feed a kid at one time. So we split it up—focused on two things per session. Rotate the focus, keep it fresh, keep it manageable.
Outside of team practices, we added a couple of solo practices each week—just me and him at a local field. Forty-five minutes of focused work: reps, feedback, laughs, maybe a gas station treat after. Honestly, this wasn’t really a “practice”, this was some of the most fun that I have with him. We truly enjoy it so much. And I have a feeling it’s these moments, that I’ll remember for the rest of my life (and I hope he does too).
The Mental Prep
This part gets overlooked—but it’s everything. Because as important as mechanics are, confidence and mindset might matter more.
We talked constantly about what we could control. That meant:
Not worrying about other kids.
Not chasing perfection.
Just doing our best, staying locked in, and bouncing back when mistakes happen.
We kept constant focus on the “no-skill” things that set players apart:
Effort – Hustle everywhere. To water. To the cage. After a missed grounder.
Attitude – Smile. Be coachable. Show you love being there.
Focus – Eye contact. Listening. Being locked in on every rep.
Appreciation – Shake every coach’s hand when it’s over and say thank you.
If he could do those four things well, I told him, he’d be remembered. Even if he doesn’t make the team.
The Pre-Tryout Routine
While I don’t think of tryouts like a test you can cram for, I do believe in preparing your child the right way—physically and mentally—so that when the time comes, they’re not caught flat-footed. Walking into a tryout cold is like jumping into a sprint without stretching. You’re just not going to move the same.
So we created a simple, repeatable pre-tryout warm-up routine that helped ease my son into the moment. This wasn’t an intense workout—it was a tune-up. Just enough to get his body moving and his instincts turned on.
Here’s what it looked like:
Play Catch: Start close and work into long toss. I made sure we took time to warm up the arm fully, increasing distance and velocity slowly.
Ground Balls: I’d hit him a variety of rollers—up the middle, to his left and right, and some short choppers to work on attacking the ball. These weren’t about perfection; they were about rhythm and confidence.
Fly Balls: We’d work both short-range and longer throws. First, I’d toss balls just over his shoulders from about 10 yards away to simulate quick-tracking drills. Then we’d back up to around 25 yards and go deeper—more time in the air, more focus on footwork and positioning.
Hitting: I used some weighted balls and did soft toss to get him swinging with intent. We weren’t looking to launch bombs—we were trying to feel the barrel and get the swing path dialed in.
All of that took about 25-30 minutes. It was enough to shake off any stiffness and get him mentally in the zone before we even got to the tryout field. This simple routine gave him something familiar to lean on when everything else about the tryout felt new and uncertain.
But maybe the most important part of our routine wasn’t the physical work—it was the car ride.
Every drive to a tryout gave us one final chance to reset. And I never used this moment to flood him with corrections or overdo the pep talk. That’s a mistake I think some parents make—dumping last-minute directions on an already anxious kid.
Instead, we had a rhythm:
Effort – "Throw the ball hard. Swing hard. Hustle after everything."
Focus – "Lock in. Look coaches in the eye. Nod like you’re dialed in. Be ready for every rep."
Love – "No matter what happens out there, I’m proud of you. We put in the work. You’ve already won in my book."
It might sound simple, but those three messages helped him walk into each tryout with the right mindset. Calm, confident, and ready to go.
Parent Nerves
Let’s just get it out there: the parent nerves are real. If you’ve been through it, you know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t yet, brace yourself—it’s wild how invested you feel in those 60-90 minutes of drills and scrimmages.
Tryouts are a pressure cooker, but not always for the reasons you'd expect. Most kids actually handle them pretty well—at least outwardly. But as parents, we’re sitting there with our hearts pounding, our minds racing, and our eyes tracking every move like we’re scouts at an MLB combine.
You feel helpless. Because you know what your kid is capable of. You’ve seen the hard work. You’ve seen the grind. And now it’s out of your hands. That’s a tough pill to swallow.
I’d be watching my son field a ground ball, and in my head I’m narrating every move:
"Okay, glove down, get it out front… shuffle… plant… throw strong!"
It’s nonstop internal dialogue. You want to coach, but you can’t. You want to cheer, but you don’t want to be that parent. So you sit there silently panicking, hoping they perform the way you know they can.
What makes it harder is just how few opportunities they have to shine. Let’s be honest—these tryouts are quick (at least the part where your kid gets in the action). Most kids get maybe:
5–10 ground balls.
3–6 fly balls.
5–7 swings in the cage.
Maybe 6 throws from the outfield.
That’s it. There’s no margin for error. And if your child bobbles a ground ball or gets jammed on their swing, there’s rarely a second chance to make up for it.
And that’s where the fear kicks in. Not because we expect perfection—but because we know how easily a coach’s first impression can become their lasting one.
Still, I tried to remind myself—and I’ll remind you too: your job during tryouts is to be the calm in the storm. Your kid doesn’t need your panic. They need your presence. Your stability. Your quiet confidence. Let them look over and see a parent who’s smiling, relaxed, and totally in their corner. Give them the thumbs up no matter what.
Even if your insides are doing somersaults.
The Highs and Lows
I don’t think there’s a more emotional roller coaster in youth sports than tryouts. It’s a series of highs, lows, and everything in between—often in the span of just a few days.
The Build-Up:
It starts with anticipation. You’re prepping. Training. Getting mentally locked in. There’s a buzz in the air, a feeling that maybe—just maybe—something exciting is around the corner.
The Day Of:
Then the nerves hit. You wake up on tryout day and suddenly everything feels heavy. You check the weather. Pack the gear bag. Double check the cleats and gloves. And then you drive over trying to act like it’s just another day.
During the Tryout:
You’re locked in. Watching. Hoping. Flinching every time a ball takes a weird hop. Trying not to let the “what ifs” creep in. Every good rep feels like a win. Every mistake stings like a punch.
Afterward:
Then comes the hardest part of all: the waiting.
This was the emotional meat grinder for us. We experienced the full spectrum:
One club? Total silence. Not a thank-you email, not a “we’ve filled the roster,” nothing. Just ghosted. Honestly, that tells you a lot about their character right there.
Another club? Told us he made the team… then followed up a few days later with an awkward retraction because they miscounted their roster spots. Oof. Talk about a gut punch.
A third club? Sent a really thoughtful email explaining that while he did great, they had too few openings. It still hurt, but at least we felt respected.
And then came the final tryout—the one we were most excited about. I intentionally saved it for last, thinking that the experience of the other tryouts would prepare my son for this one. And it worked. He showed up confident, composed, and ready.
What made this one different? The coaches actually took the time to speak to parents before it began. They set expectations. They explained the process. That alone was a breath of fresh air. And when the offer came, it came with specific, personalized feedback—what they liked, what stood out, why they made the decision.
That mattered more than they probably knew.
It’s not just about whether your kid makes the team. It’s about how the organization makes you feel during the process. Tryouts are a test of skill, yes—but they’re also a window into the values of the coaches and the club. Do they care? Are they organized? Are they respectful?
Because if this is the way they treat families before the season even begins, that’s a good predictor of how they’ll treat your child throughout the year.
The Bigger Picture
There’s a massive gap between rec and club baseball. And not just in terms of skill level — the divide goes deeper, into access, opportunity, coaching quality, and especially cost. Let’s not sugarcoat it: club baseball isn’t cheap. And that alone becomes a barrier for so many kids who might have the raw talent and love for the game, but not the financial means to pursue it. I hate to think about how many potential stars — kids with grit, athleticism, and drive — are sitting at home because their families can’t swing the price tag of club fees, uniforms, travel, and private lessons.
That’s a bigger conversation — and honestly, one the baseball community needs to keep having. How can we make elite-level development more accessible? How can we support kids from all backgrounds in chasing their dreams, not just the ones whose parents can write the checks?
It creates a tough dynamic for parents, too. If your child is passionate about the game — if they’re asking for extra practice, hungry to improve, obsessed with baseball the way so many kids are — it’s hard not to feel pressure to get them into a club program. But when the dollars start stacking up, it’s a tough ask.
For now, I’ll say this: if your kid has the hunger, and you have the means and the time, it’s worth the effort. Not just to make a team. Not just for the jersey or the travel tournaments. But for what they’ll gain along the way: the confidence of earning a spot, the lessons of dealing with pressure, the camaraderie of being on a focused, competitive team, and the pride that comes from seeing all their hard work pay off.
And if you don’t have access to club ball? Don’t let that be the end of the road. Find ways to keep developing. Backyard reps matter. So does community baseball. So does a parent who’s willing to toss fly balls and talk mindset during a drive to the field. The goal is progress, not perfection. And showing your child that their love for the game matters — regardless of what patch is on their uniform — might just be the most powerful thing you can do.
The Payoff
I believe in the strategy we used this year. Was it perfect? No. Is it a guarantee? Absolutely not.
But with a plan—focusing on core skills, preparing mentally, giving reps, prioritizing the right kind of effort and strategically planning which club you tryout for, your priority of those clubs and strategically scheduling the tryouts so that your top clubs come later in the tryout season —you give your child the best chance to succeed. And you do it all quietly, in the background. You steer the ship without making them feel like they’re carrying the weight.
Because at the end of the day, the real win isn’t making the team. It’s helping your child feel seen, supported, and proud of themselves.
So whether they made it or didn’t, whether they hit every ball or dropped a fly ball—it doesn’t define who they are. It doesn’t define who you are.
What they’ll remember most is how you showed up for them.
With you in the stands,
A fellow baseball dad
Book highlight
The Constant Coach
This isn’t just a book—it’s your daily reset.
The Constant Coach delivers 366 motivational messages for coaches and parents who lead with more than a whistle and a clipboard. Whether you’re on the field, in the gym, or at the kitchen table planning practice, this book will guide you to show up with purpose, patience, and presence.
Each daily entry is built around real coaching values—like character, communication, confidence, and composure—and comes with practical insights, tough love, and thoughtful reflection. It’s written for:
Volunteer parents stepping up to lead
Career coaches seeking steady perspective
Anyone trying to grow the next generation through sports
You won’t find fluff here. Just honest encouragement, insights, tips, and reminders of why the work matters—even on the hard days.
Content
Free Content
You might be new to coaching a team or sport. You may be a grizzled coaching veteran. Either way, check out the content section of thecoachingdad.com. You’ll find resources that cover a large number of sports, including game refreshers, position breakdowns, injury management, practice ideas and more.
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