By Paddy Upton
When Jannik Sinner says, “I wish everyone could have parents like mine,” he isn’t talking about money or facilities. He’s talking about freedom—the space to choose, explore, and fall in love with the game on his own terms.
That simple gift shaped his career. And sadly, it’s a gift too few young athletes receive.
Because here’s the hard truth: research shows that 70% of kids who start sport drop out by the age of 13. Let that sink in—seven out of ten. And when asked why, they said it was not the sport they didn’t like, but the experience within the sport. When asked what undermined their experience, two reasons dominated: parents and coaches.
Not because they don’t care—because they care deeply. But often in ways that remove the very thing that drew kids to sport in the first place: enjoyment.
Parents overemphasizing winning. Coaches pushing too hard, too early. Unrealistic expectations. Over-analysis. Criticism. And sometimes, simply doing too much.
None of this comes from malice. It often comes from love and a desire to help. But here’s the paradox: the more we try to control, the more joy we take away. And when joy leaves the game, so does commitment.
Olympic gold medal Swimmer Chad le Clos sees it firsthand: 14-year-olds bench pressing 110 kilograms, chasing first-team selection like their lives depend on it. Parents beaming with pride. But what happens five years later? Many of those kids aren’t even playing anymore. The fire went out.
The mistake is thinking that pressure builds resilience. In reality, it builds resistance. Kids start fearing failure, fearing judgment, fearing the people they should feel safest with. They lose ownership of the game, and when that happens, performance—and passion—both suffer.
And here’s something we don’t talk about enough: when kids quit sport, it’s not just about missing out on the game. It’s losing everything sport brings with it—friendship, fitness, belonging, life skills, confidence. Those are huge losses that extend far beyond the field.
So, what does this mean for parents and coaches?
- Don’t make your love or acknowledgement contingent upon results. Win or lose, behave the same, treat them with the same.
- Dial down the pressure. Replace “How many runs did you score?” with “Did you enjoy yourself?”
- Stop over-coaching. Let coaches coach. Let kids play.
- Focus on the process, not just the result. Praise effort, not just outcomes.
- Give them space. Let the game belong to them, not you.
If you’re wondering whether this is only about kids and sport—it’s not. I’ve seen the same pattern in business teams. Leaders who micromanage, who equate value with short-term wins, who unknowingly make performance the only measure of worth—they kill creativity and long-term engagement in exactly the same way.
The best leaders—like the best parents and coaches—create autonomy, trust, and a sense of joy in the journey. They understand that performance isn’t built on fear. It’s built on freedom.
Here’s the takeaway: pressure without joy is unsustainable. It burns people out. Whether it’s a teenager on a tennis court or a professional in a boardroom, when we replace enjoyment with anxiety, performance eventually breaks down.
So, the question is worth asking: Where might your good intentions be creating pressure instead of possibility?
Because the answer to that question could change the way your team—or your child—feels about the game. And maybe even keep them in it for life.
