I am always amazed at how many threads bind all levels of sports. All kinds of sports, too.
“Practice” players vs. “Gamers:” How it affects your team


So there are times when I, as a coach of an under-12 competitive level boys team, encounter the very same issues the professional coaches I write about may face.
Obviously, the levels are worlds apart. But the essential elements aren’t.
Take, for example, the difference between “practice players” and “gamers.” You may have different labels, but I think you know what I talking about.
I have a couple of boys who, on a Tuesday at the practice ground, couldn’t pass the ball out of the back of a pickup truck. But I wouldn’t think about starting a game without a couple of them. That’s because when the man in the middle blows the whistle, they are on top of things. They get the job done – and not just through effort and competitive fire, although those ingredients certainly are valuable. The focus on technique suddenly improves. They know instinctively where to be and what they can and cannot get away with. So the game becomes much simpler to them, and they become reliably effective performers.
Then, the other side …
I have guys who are technically proficient in practice. They make nice passes, follow instruction and generally approach the game with the right attitude. Then, in matches, something happens. They remain on practice speed, which isn’t good enough when the game gets fast. And some of them need to be told the same things in matches, time and again.
Now, here’s how this relates to your favorite MLS side, or Premiership side, or even your national team:
These players present tremendous conundrums from managers. And they create flashpoints of disagreement between fans and coaches. Read on for more about it all...
See, a manager watches players perform over five or six days a week. Fans watch players perform once a week. (Or twice on certain weeks … but you get the point.) Managers certainly want to reward the athlete who performs diligently in practice. For one, those daily performances reveal to managers that the player “gets it.” The coach asks for certain things to happen, the practice player delivers on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, etc. So the coach has incentive to start the player on Saturday.
Besides, that practice player’s diligence over five or six days serves another purpose. He sets a great example through attitude and effort. That diligence and attention to the orders of the day create sharper, more effective practices. In most instances, sharp practices lead to sharp game-day doings.
But then … if a “practice player” can’t rise to game speed, or if the “practice player” is overcome by the moment, that’s what fans see.
Meanwhile, over on the bench, is a player the fans love. They’ve seen him in games, and they cannot for the life of them determine why the coach doesn’t see what they see – that he’s a high-revving performance car stuck on the bench while some economical compact gets the starting assignment. What gives?
The truth, sometimes, is that Mr. High Performance is a terrible practice player. That doesn’t mean he’s a bad dude. (He may be. He could be one of these types who are uninterested in laying it on the line when the TV cameras and big crowds aren’t around to see him play. I’m just saying that’s not necessarily true.) It just means that he isn’t a reliable practice player.
The last thing a manager wants to do is reward lethargic or sloppy practice habits. It rubs off on other players, some of whom may not have the talent or speed to mitigate sloppy play on game-day. You show me a team where bad practice habits are routinely ignored, where players aren’t accountable, I’ll show you a team going nowhere fast.
The other point to consider is trust. If a player repeatedly makes the same mistakes in practice, it’s difficult for a manager to scratch that name in the lineup. The coach simply feels like he can’t trust the player with a huge three points on the line come Saturday. Teammates may feel the same way – although no one in the crowd sees it. The ticket-buying public just wonders why the coach is a “ninny” who clearly can’t see that Peter Passer is oodles better than Sammy Shooter.
So, it all becomes a sliding scale for management. Coaches tolerate inattention or apathy on the practice ground to a point, assuming the player can have a big influence on game day.
Think about that the next time you wonder why one fellow is starting over the other one. It may not be the case – but it just might be.











