A few weeks back I heard this story from a coach who was working with a team for 11-year old boys.  As their season neared they had an opening on the roster, and decided to invite players to try out for the team.

One of the boys showed up and was clearly good enough to be on this team, but there was a problem.  During the entire tryout, both of his parents were there hovering and hollering.  They were critical of their son; negative (and loud) the whole time.

When it came to decision-time, this coach decided that as qualified as the kid was to play on the team, he couldn’t imagine dealing with those parents for an entire season.  So he sent a polite email thanking the family for their time and wishing them the best.

The very next day Coach got a call from Mom.  She wasn’t angry, at least not with the coach.  She talked about how poorly her son had played and that she understood the reason he was turned down.  Obviously, she had no idea about the actual reason for the coach’s decision.  The reason for her call was to get some information about other teams that might have a spot for her boy.

As I listened to this story, up until this point, it sounded sad but by no means unusual.  Things like this happen all the time.  Parents with great intentions who unwittingly take the joy out of the game for their kids are all too common.  I’ve been that Dad myself and sometimes have to take care so that I don’t repeat my own mistakes of the past.  But this is the part when the story took an unexpected turn.

The coach felt prompted to be honest with Mom about the reason for her son not making the team.  Imagine the guts it would take to put that out there, not knowing what type of backlash he might get in response. But he decided to go for it, and he interrupted her in mid-sentence and said something like, “If I could tell you something that would definitely help your son and probably your whole family, would you want to know what it is?”  Well, who could say no to that, so Mom says, “Yes, go ahead.”

He proceeded to respectfully but honestly share the reason for her son not making the team.  He said it had nothing to do with him or his ability, but rather the harsh approach that his parents were using with him.  He told her that he decided to turn them away because he didn’t want to have to deal with them as parents.  Then he braced himself for her reply.

She got quiet, saying nothing for a while.  Then, through tears, she thanked him.  She thanked him for being honest and for sharing a message that she knew she needed to hear.  She thanked him for having the courage to deliver a message that their friends were apparently too afraid to communicate.  And she made a decision that from then on, things were going to be different in that family.

As it turned out, the boy ended up playing on the team after all, and the parents did a complete 180.  They were encouraging and easy to deal with.  A happy ending, I suppose.

As I listened to my new friend share that story, I thought about how things were probably going to be different in that family.  I also thought about how things could end up quite different for future generations in that family, not to mention the families of the children that this 11-year old boy could likely wind up coaching someday.  The potential ripple effect from one man’s courage to tell a person in need a difficult truth is impossible to calculate.  It is literally infinite.

I don’t know what kind of situations you are going to encounter in the next year.  I don’t know what difficult people you might have to deal with.  But I know this much — when there is a tough conversation to be had, I hope all of us will stand firm and not shrink back from our opportunity to speak life into people.