I was wrong.
A few years ago I wrote a bunch of articles around a similar theme: How to improve club and school cricket so it is closer to the professional game. I gave advice - backed with both research and experience - on ways to acheive maximum performance. The advice was sound, and I stand by it now, even close to 15 years later.
At the same time, I missed the point.
The recreational game is not about performing. Not at it’s core. There's a deeper psychological and social underpinning.
People play cricket for many reasons; By focusing on professional performance, coaches are missing out on meeting all the needs and wants of people. The result is a greater chance of a negative experience and stopping playing the game.
“...but wait,” some will say, “isn’t the core of competitive sport the competition? Isn’t it about winning and losing? Don’t we all want to do our best to win no matter what the level?”
Yes, of course.
But winning isn’t why we play.
Finding meaningful cricket
This leads to the obvious question; why do we play?
Everyone will have a different answer. Winning is a factor, but it's rarely the main factor. It's never the only factor: We play,
for exercise
to be with our friends
for the thrill of a close game
to overcome a challenge (not the same as winning a game)
to play in a team
to be part of something we consider meaningful
to improve ourselves
and plenty more…
Yet despite these, winning tends to become the focus. Winning is why coaches try to improve performance. The logic makes sense: Players want to win (otherwise why keep score?), to win you need to play well, to play well you need to play like the best, the best are professionals, let's prepare and play like professionals.
The cascade has started and the "why" transforms quickly into "what" and "how".
Techniques are analysed, programmes of correction are implemented, mental training skills are developed. Technology is brought in to get the edge. Players are encouraged to improve their fitness specifically for the game: more pace, more power off the bat, better stamina for those long hot days.
Coaches implore their charges to be motivated by the desire to perform. They give inspirational speeches and team talks. They say things like “talent is hard work”, “pressure is a privilege” and “take your training to the next level by pushing yourself in every area”.
There’s no doubt these methods work. They work for the top 5% you see in the professional game. They would work in the recreational game too, except for one fly in the ointment.
Not enough players find meaning in just playing to win.
And meaningless methods don’t get used, no matter how much the coach wants it.
I learned this the hard way.
As a coach I developed detailed, comprehensive, progressive, realistic and achievable programmes... dammit they were great!
However, players rejected them in various ways: not coming to practice, refusing to do them and giving up halfway through. Sometimes I heard protests and grumbles. Often the protest was only through passive inaction.
At the time I thought it was “them”. They didn’t want it enough. They were not coachable. In reality I had not found a way to engage them by meeting their needs.
Light the fire
As coaches sometimes we are so keen to help we are often too quick to ascribe meaning to a player, group or team. We are coaches: We know what we want. We know what they need. We deliver it to players without checking.
We are trying to fill the vessel.
But we should be trying to light the fire instead.
We need to inspire players not instruct them, or they instinctively back off from a lack of control.
If a coach doesn’t tap into why a player finds cricket meaningful, it becomes increasingly difficult to play and practice. On the other hand, if the coach knows the player, they can meet their needs, make cricket meaningful and retain the players in the game.
Here’s the problem: lighting the fire is really hard.
Meaning is messy. It’s more difficult than making a nice clean plan with session goals and macro cycles. Motivation takes a cooperative effort between the coach (who understands the players) and players (who understand themselves). You’ll rarely get it right first time.
With work, you will get there. You’ll be coaching people and their needs first. You’ll be co-creating meaningful cricket. You’ll get better results and more of the people you coach will flourish rather than drift away.
It took me a long time to work out that meeting needs and finding meaning comes first. I’m still working on getting good at it. I’m still coaching tectac performance, but now it’s in more useful context.
And that correction has allowed me to enter a more satisfying world of coaching. Maybe my experience resonates and can help you too?