I don't have time for that.
How many times have you said that recently? Maybe too often. Maybe not often enough. I feel like I pendulum between those two states weekly.
I found myself pondering this as I laid on a pilates machine at my gym recently, trying to pick out which virtual class I would follow along with today.
(For anyone who really knows me, I have always found going to the gym near impossible, so to even write that line is a little baffling and a nice reflection of growth).
But even then, pouring through the video library, I wondered if I had enough time to complete a 45 minute class. Not whether I have the energy or like the activities or which muscle group I wanted to cry over first, but whether a construct that we literally made up to quantify the world turning, was running out.
I won't use this platform to write about the nonlinearity of time, I've written with some wonderful people about this here... but I love that the idea bubbles up in my mind occasionally, making me question how I interact with the world.
I guess it is technically a finite resource because we don't really know how much of it we have: there's 22501 days until my 90th birthday and we all know that is certainly not guaranteed. I like knowing that number, it keeps me humble and conscious to what I am doing with my time.
The extension of this, then, is that some things might feel like a waste of your time. Carving out that 45 minutes for a workout when you've got deadlines to meet might feel like a waste.. but if we dig deeper, that creates a more concerning narrative around exercise: that being healthy, that moving your body, is a waste of time. So when you (feel like) you don't have time, you let it slip. We've all been there. Our perception of time can completely change the way we interact with it, and we've been seeing this play out in the sports coaching world for longer than we care to admit.
Again, it's not for me to rehash the 10,000 hours myth because frankly, nobody does it better than Ed Coughlan's chapter in the Myths of Sport Coaching. As someone dedicated to developing coaching practices and supporting others, I need to justify how I spend my time in a week, and what kind of learning opportunities we offer.
There are the usual culprits in coaching courses and skill workshops, where we can speak to a number of people at the same time and encourage learning from each other just as much as the staff hosting the session. These collaborative, social learning spaces are wonderful for connection, but do they really influence practice?
We couldn't answer that. The teams that these voluntold parents were looking after weren't present at the courses, so how could we really know? It is so easy to say something, and do something entirely different when push comes to shove. It's one thing to claim you create a safe and welcoming environment for all, and then assign push ups or sprints for every time someone bowls a wide in the nets. You might have every intention to keep every person engage and 'maximise time on task' but in reality, there's someone standing at the back of a line 15 people deep. So I really wanted to spend our time alongside coaches, in their own training environments. To drive to cricket clubs around the city and enter their space as equals, not evaluators.
I once heard a coach say they don't have enough time to get to know their players individually. That it's a team game, so everyone needs to be operating at a similar level. This is a scary prospect, and through no fault of the coach. This perceived rush, this need to get through everything in the few weeks that is the cricket season is predisposed, it hangs in the air like a smog. We hear often that we have just 3 years with young people in cricket.. after that, if they don't feel confident and competent, they leave the game (probably forever).
Hilariously, this is true for just about every grassroots sport at the moment, and that part is rarely mentioned. Turns out, sports like to think they're special! But, it should come as no surprise that not feeling like you can do something, and actually being incapable of doing the core movement solutions needed in cricket (bowling on the pitch, hitting a moving ball, catching, throwing etc) makes you want to quit. We catastrophise this to our own detriment though.. three years is a long time.
“Most people overestimate what they can do in one year and underestimate what they can do in ten years.” - Bill Gates
We do not need to overwhelm anyone with the entire cricketing encyclopaedia, let alone a 10-year-old. Yes, it can feel like you're running out of time when you've only got 2 hours, once a week, across 20-odd weeks each year but that does not mean we need to make them train for 4 hours a week.
It does not mean you need to spend hours planning your training sessions, or analysing how the game went on the weekend. It means you have limited time to connect with your people, understand what they need, why they are in the game, and make sure they feel that in every interaction.
I can't believe we have to keep saying this but, it doesn't seem to be getting through…
They won't learn anything if they don't want to come back next week.
I think this isn't entirely true, there is so much learning to be done outside of just training sessions, but again, they shouldn't have to do it alone. Our greatest resource as people who support others is our ability to care.
We show that we care by spending our precious time at a community club when we could be doing so many other things. But please, if you are willing to spend that time to be there, then extend that care to having patience, to taking your time, to spending it well in activities that are meaningful and responsive to what they need today, this week, this season.
Time spent together, especially when we are willing and open to learn, is never a waste.
Don’t believe me? Check out one of my favourite coaches in the world right now, who bases his entire philosophy on care 💛
My philosophy is let each and every one of your players know you love and care about them. Show them you take the time to think about them and how to help them get better. Show them you'll be there to support them when they need it, that you'll be right there to celebrate their successes, and you’ll take time to think about their enjoyment.
You can read the rest of this post, and their many other, brilliant musings here: