When Adults Make Youth Sports About Themselves

This past week, my 8-year-old daughter was kicked off her travel softball team. Not because she did anything wrong on the field. Not because she wasn’t loved by her teammates. But because the adults, myself included, let insecurities get in the way of what really mattered.

The First Red Flag

Last spring, during an 8U tournament, my daughter made a mistake on the field. It happens. That’s how kids learn. But the coach pulled her mid-inning, a move he had never made with any other girl. I was frustrated, and I let him know she could sit the next inning too. Instead of talking it through, he blew up. I was told to leave, and my daughter was kicked out of the dugout.

Looking back, that should have been my first red flag. But like any dad who just wants his kid to play, I tried to smooth things over. I called the coach the next week. He never apologized. He never owned his actions. Still, for the sake of my daughter, we stepped back quietly. My wife and I decided we’d stay out of the way so she could enjoy the game she loved.

Trying to Make It Work

Through the summer and into the fall, we kept our heads down. My older daughter played her tournaments, and my wife handled the younger one’s. It wasn’t ideal, but we thought if we just stayed quiet, everything would work itself out.

After one of the tournaments, a few of the girls and their parents went out to eat. It wasn’t an official team event, just a casual outing among friends. Our daughter wasn’t initially included, which was understandably disappointing for her at that age. She did receive an invitation later, but only after I reached out, rather than being thought of from the start. Wanting to express how the situation felt, my wife sent a private message to another mom on the team. It was a low-key, sincere note, intended as a mom-to-mom conversation. But as often happens in youth sports, even small miscommunications can be amplified by the emotions already in play.

That message stirred the pot. And before we knew it, the coach told us our daughter was off the team. His words “You’re drama.”

The Hardest Part

Now we had to sit down with our 8-year-old and tell her she no longer had a team. A team filled with girls who are not just teammates, but also her school friends. A team where she was beloved in the dugout. And to make things harder, this weekend we’ll still show up at the same tournament because her older sister is playing. My daughter will have to watch her friends compete without her.

As a dad, that’s the hardest thing to stomach. Not the disrespect to me. Not the misplaced label of drama. But the fact that my little girl is the one carrying the weight of grown-up insecurities.

The Bigger Picture

I could sit here and stay angry. At the coach. At friends we care about. At myself for letting emotions take over that spring day. But that’s not really the heart of it. At its core, this was about friendships that could have used better communication and unspoken expectations that should have been shared openly.

This is about remembering what youth sports should be:

·      A place for kids to learn the game.

·      A space to build confidence.

·      A community where mistakes are part of growth.

·      An opportunity to form friendships that last longer than a season.

Somewhere along the way, too many adults, myself included, lost sight of that.

Moving Forward

I can’t undo what happened. I can’t put my daughter back on that team. But I can control what I teach her through this moment:

·      That her value isn’t defined by one coach’s opinion.

·      That real friends will stick by her, even when things get messy.

·      That sometimes walking away from the wrong environment is the best choice.

·      And that in sports, just like in life, resilience matters more than any trophy.

Because at the end of the day, it’s just 8U softball. But the lessons, the good and the bad, stick with our kids forever. And maybe, just maybe, sharing our story will remind another parent, another coach, another team: let the kids play.