Well, here I sit, having just recovered from a vicious case of jet-lag brought on by a 33-hour journey back from Australia where I was playing ball for the last six months. 33 hours is an extremely long time to spend in airports and on airplanes, so I’ve had lots of time for introspection, most of which was spent on coaching and coaches. As a sometimes coach myself, I’m always interested in capturing the good qualities of my past coaches and passing them on to my players and hitting students. I also make every effort to avoid passing on the really bad things I’ve seen coaches do over my career. As we gear-up for the full-blown travel ball season, the tension ratchets up on the road to the WCWS, and I think there is no better time than the present to revisit the state of coaching and our roles as players and discerning consumers.

Short of truly illegal actions, ranking among the worst coaching I’ve experienced or heard of is the example of a close friend of mine who had her promising pitching career ended by one of the “bad ones.” It was an overzealous, egotistical, coach who insisted that she lift too heavily in the gym, run “stadiums” until she developed a stress fracture, then pushed her to continue running on the injury. Now my friend is so soured on softball because of that coach, that to this day I can’t get her to be more involved in softball than dropping some balls in a Jugs machine for me. It’s a real pity, as she was once a top lefty prospect out of California and had a D-1 ride.

And then there are the elite level coaches whose idea of coaching is to repeatedly scream, “Hit the %&^*$# ball,” “Catch the %&^*$# ball.” Then they repeat those same awe-inspiring sentences to the team in post-game talks and to individual players in conference. Excuse me? Did I miss something? Is that somehow coaching?

Okay, we all know the horror stories. We’ve all heard them, but probably the worst thing I have personally seen is when a supposed “Tough Love” coach misuses his or her power, giving only negative comments on an individual’s play or training. Unfortunately, this approach has a tendency to systematically “break” players and strip away their confidence. Don’t get me wrong; a coach doesn’t have to be a cheerleader, because too many positive comments can do damage as well. But remember that for a player to reach their highest level of development, they need confidence. We, as players, are often our worst enemies, beating ourselves up for errors, strikeouts, pop-ups, and any other part of the game we feel we should have more control of. The wise coach knows that although she or he may growl a little under their breath, the best thing to do is smile a bit, be positive, and bolster confidence for the next play or at-bat.

Fortunately, there is an opposite end to this spectrum. I’ve been blessed to have some truly great coaches. To learn from our mistake of throwing huge sky-rending arcs with elbows too far forward and too much hip, an old coach of mine (I kid you not) brought a huge chunk of wood and a splitting maul to practice and made me (and the other girls) swing the maul straight over our shoulders and split wood. To this day, I have to credit my arm strength and technique to this coach.

Then there’s the head coach I played against a couple of years ago at the ASA Women’s “A/B” Fastpitch Nationals who led his team to the “B” class Championship (hint: he writes for this magazine), not with yelling negative comments, but with humor and a continual smile on his face. And guess what? He was able to capture for his players the genuine élan (bear with me…I was an English major in college), the pure joy, of playing the game and passing it on to his players. I have never played against a team at any level that was having that much fun.

Finally, there was my most memorable coach who called us all to the mound in a tight game, and looked me squarely in the eyes. Following a career-high string of really ugly errors in a single game, (a doomed circle I couldn’t seem to escape from) my coach said to me, “I believe in you, Tiff. You’re a great ballplayer. Relax, and play ball like I know you can.” I became teary-eyed with relief and appreciation (yeah, I know… “There’s no crying in softball”). Most importantly, because of that coach’s kind words, I went out, broke the cycle, and committed no more errors in the game, and had a terrific game in the second half of our double-header. To this day, that coach’s words echo in my mind, and I recently had occasion as a coach to pass on those same words. Incredibly, they had the exact same positive effect.

Words are powerful things in general, but in the mouths of coaches they can have the ability to inspire or to crush, to elevate a player to new heights or send them spiraling down to unfathomable depths. Words in a coach’s mouth are power, and those words should be used wisely and with positive purpose.

So, where have all the coaches gone? I think the good ones are still here, but as a player or parent of a player, we should all be discerning consumers. We should do “business” with only the coaches who elevate us, inspire us, and create healthy environments for us to reach new heights. As one of my very best mentors has repeatedly told me about softball, “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.” Choose the partners of your journey well.

Tiffany J. Brooks is a veteran international fastpitch player, coach, hitting instructor, and writer who makes her home in Spokane, Washington about 4 weeks a year. The rest of the time, as Tiffany says, her home is where her softball bag is. You can contact her with comments or column suggestions at gutallstop@hotmail.com.