Talent that Whispers

In my travels around the world, I've witnessed and been a part of countless soccer games involving young people. I've watched kids play on the side of dirt roads in the Congo, next to copper mines in Zambia, and even on a floating village in Thailand. Watching early learners can provide so much joy because you can see when they have an idea and attempt to execute it, all the while (hopefully) playing with the intensity of childhood rivals and the joy of young innocence. What I particularly enjoy about watching kids is seeing what they do when they think they are alone, or when they are not paying attention to adults who may or may not be watching. In my experience, this is when the truly magical stuff happens. When kids are left alone to discover, they often do just that.

Recently, I was watching a youth soccer game in the Seattle area that left me feeling a bit drained. On this particular morning I was simply tired of watching the same old show and listening to the same old song. The show I'm referring to is the quality of the game played by two teams from big youth clubs who are supposedly teaching kids how to play soccer competently. The song refers to the boisterous and largely nonsensical garbage that several parents (from both sides) were shouting from the stands. Because I was not there in a coaching capacity, I watched the game from the stands and grudgingly accepted the debilitating soundtrack from parents that too many kids are subjected to at youth sporting events. 

As adults, parents as well as coaches, there are definitely things we should be excited about when we watch kids play, and if we truly care about development, there are some things we need to let go. I would submit here, and I'm certainly not the first to say it, that one of the first things that adults should let go when they watch kids play is their own ego. I'm speaking from personal experience as a coach who has to navigate between the desire to be a part of a winning team with the much greater cause of ensuring that the kids enjoy themselves and learn something. I know that when I focus all of my energy on whether or not the kids are learning and enjoying, they tend to have a better experience because I've checked my ego at the door. 

Adult ego, wanting to win at all costs, which often leads to getting upset at the referee to the point of yelling obscenities, or coaching your kid from the parent's sideline, is debilitating to players, especially young learners. The 12 and 13 year olds I watched on this brisk morning were repeatedly met with shrieks of "kick it out!" and "go, run, press!" seemingly every time the ball was anywhere near one of the penalty boxes. Watching and listening to this, I kept thinking that we have to ask ourselves this question, "What kind of young people do we want our sports programs to help produce?" Once we answer that, we have to follow up with this important question, "Are our words and actions as coaches, parents, and caregivers in line with what we say we want for our kids?" If the two don't match up, then something has to change. 

As a soccer coach, I am challenged with developing quality people through the game. If we are to become a great soccer nation and change the way we educate in youth sports, then we must become better at appreciating 'talent that whispers'. The first time I personally came across this term was from reading The Gold Mine Effect by Rasmus Ankerson. In his book, which aims to gain insight into what creates high performance hubs in various sports around the world, Ankerson writes about the kind of talent someone possesses who is an undeniable, elite, and stand out performer. This is termed 'talent that shouts'. This is often the young kid on the soccer field who might be bigger, stronger, or faster than everyone else and/or can do things seemingly at will that other kids can't. If we want to raise the level of our teaching, for these exceptional kids too, then together we need to be more mindful of a different (and more common) kind of talent, 'talent that whispers'.

'Talent that whispers' describes the (sometimes) subtle things that are indicators of incredible potential and/or game insight. In the case of soccer, this is the kid who may not be the fastest or strike the ball with power but who constantly checks their shoulders before receiving the ball. This is the player who disguises their passes by looking one way and passing the over. There are countless other examples, and if we're being honest, 99.9% of young kids in any given sports program can be defined as having 'talent that whispers'. It makes sense after all, young athletes are being formed and learning their craft as their bodies grow and develop, they are not experts! So, if we are not looking for and creating nurturing environments for 'talent that whispers' then we are not committed to teaching and we are not developing potential.  

The reality is that in most places around the world, especially in poor communities, children are often fending for themselves and not being constantly watched and heckled by adults when they play. It is rather interesting that it is precisely those parts of the world (especially in South America and Africa) where so many creative soccer talents are molded. I'm not suggesting that only poverty can breed incredible talent. Rather, I'm imploring that we learn how to be more mindful of the precious learning space we are in when we watch youth sports. Because parents love their children and want them to be successful, it is understandable that they get excited whenever their kids are competing. Nonetheless, through the youth clubs they are a part of, it is crucial to the child's development that parents are made aware of what the aims of the learning program are and how they can appropriately support it. Failure to effectively have this communication on the part of coaches or club directors results in parents not knowing what is taking place on the field and not being able to buy in to the potential opportunity for growth.

Let me end with the game that left me so frustrated. There was a moment in the game which I remember very clearly. One of the midfield players (a smaller player I might add) received the ball somewhat deep in their own end facing their own goal. Predictably, parents got nervous and you could hear them grumbling. They were ready to moan over what they surely thought would be a disastrous pass attempt to the keeper, possibly resulting in a goal for the other team. What this player did put a smile on my face. Knowing that pressure was coming behind him and a back pass to the keeper probably wasn't the best option because of the position of the opposing forward, this player feinted outside with the ball and then took a touch towards their own goal as if to play the goalkeeper. Then, seeing that the forward was moving that way, the player cut the ball across to his central defender teammate, splitting two opposing players in the process. The team was able to keep the ball and move it up the field due to this very well executed solution by a player who remained calm in spite of the pressure.

The sad part is, with all of the noise they made about referee decisions and yelling at their kids to run harder, the parents watching didn't shriek with joy or applaud this moment. They were so quick to scream with desire every time the ball was lumped forward and every time a player went into a physical challenge but this gem somehow passed them completely by. Apparently they were unable to process how special the moment was, which is disappointing, for the kids especially. If we want to develop competent, composed, and confident kids, then we ought to celebrate moments like that. Coaches and parents together should build a culture where learning and discovering solutions in the game is the most cherished thing at a young age. Instead of being caught up with winning youth soccer games and tournaments between early learners, we need to constantly look for and affirm 'talent that whispers'.