Confidence Comes from Knowing You Belong
After a freshman year, I transferred from Mississippi College, a Division II school to Division I, Southwest Conference member Baylor.
I wasn’t sure how good I was. Could I pitch at that level? Could I compete against the likes of Texas, Texas A&M, and Arkansas?
That was my reason for transferring. I wanted to find out.
Baylor had not recruited me. I walked on. There were no promises about what kind of player I might become or if I might fit. It was simply an opportunity to measure myself against the highest level of NCAA baseball.
But the experience taught me something that continues to impact me as a coach.
It happened as I stood behind the cage at home plate and watched one of Baylor’s best pitchers throw batting practice. It was the first time I had ever seen a Division 1 pitcher throw up close.
As I watched him, I quietly came to a conclusion: I’m gonna be alright.
I hadn’t thrown a pitch at Baylor. I hadn’t gotten anybody out. Nobody had told me I was good enough.
But in my heart, I knew I belonged.
The lesson that I learned: Confidence comes from knowing you belong.
The process of getting on the mound was just beginning. But I was sure I could do it. I was sure I belonged.
Expecting Success
Two of the country’s premier researchers in motor learning, Gabriele Wulf and Rebecca Lewthwaite, developed what they call the OPTIMAL Theory of Motor Learning—Optimizing Performance Through Intrinsic Motivation and Attention for Learning.
Their research identified three important contributors to motor performance and learning: enhanced expectancies, autonomy support, and an external focus of attention.
Consider enhanced expectancies.
Simply put, what an athlete expects to happen matters. And those of us who coach should teach and lead with that in mind.
One way coaches can enhance those expectations is by creating legitimate opportunities for athletes to experience success. Not false praise. Not lowering the standard. Real success.
Whatever the skill we are working to improve, we do so progressively.
For example, if we are working to improve a pitcher’s fastball command, one approach might be to begin at shorter distances and progress as the pitcher shows success.
Success creates an expectation of more success. More success strengthens confidence.
It is a progression not unlike the way coaches in many sports construct a schedule—allowing a team to experience success while preparing for increasingly difficult challenges.
Could believing - knowing - that you belong help create the expectation that you can succeed?
Wulf and Lewthwaite do not establish that relationship.
But it is a belief I have from my own personal story as well as watching it play out in the careers of many players.
Consider how often coaches say that a struggling player simply needs a “change of scenery.”
How many times have we observed a professional athlete struggle only to be traded or released and resurrect his/her career with another team. Why?
The player’s ability didn’t change.
But perhaps his perception of himself in the environment has.
When a player is unsure whether he belongs, every failure can become more than a failure.
It is imperative that the player is convinced he belongs. Even if his present performance doesn’t indicate so.
“You Belong Here. You’re Not Ready Yet.”
Recruiting can make this particularly difficult.
Coaches want players to choose their school, and persuasion is part of recruiting. Young players are told how good coaches believe they are going to be.
Sometimes coaches overstate it. Sometimes coaches are simply wrong.
And sometimes the evaluation is right about what a player will eventually become; but wrong about how quickly he will get there.
An 18-year-old who has always been one of the best players on the field arrives on a college campus and suddenly finds himself competing against 21- and 22-year-olds who are stronger, more experienced, and presently better.
For perhaps the first time, he begins to wonder:
Maybe I’m not as good as they told me I was.
That can quickly become:
Maybe I don’t belong here.
This is where a coach may need to communicate two things that initially sound contradictory:
You belong here.
You’re not ready yet.
Both can be true.
Here’s a true story. We opened a particular season with one of the nation’s top recruiting classes. Expectations were soaring.
We began the season with a true freshman, switch hitter starting at second base. He won the position after having a great fall. I knew it was a lot to ask putting a really young player in the middle of the field where experience is often so needed.
Our first real test came in an opening season tournament played in front of very big crowds, numerous MLB scouts, and against other nationally ranked teams.
In short, our freshman was completely overmatched. At the plate he struck out 7-8 times in 3 games with no real contact. In the field, he moved like his feet were in concrete. Like he was frozen in time.
After the weekend, I began to really doubt if playing him was the best decision. I actually suggested to our staff that I thought I’d made a big mistake and this guy should probably have red-shirted! But it was too late for that!
Following this staff meeting, I received an unannounced visit to my office from this player. He walked in and closed the door behind him and looking at me said,
“I just want you to know I’m not really this bad.”
I had just finished telling our entire coaching staff that this guy wasn’t ready. That he actually was “this bad.”
So how was I to respond? 99.9 percent of the time, I would have told the player the truth as I saw it. I would have been honest. Brutally honest.
But this time, I didn’t. I looked him in the eye and told him, “You’re gonna be ok. Everyone goes through this. Just keep showing up.”
I’m not sure if he believed what I said or not. I don’t know if I believed it. The coaching staff for sure didn’t think I believed it after all I had said in our meeting.
So what happened?
His struggles continued for another week or so. Until we had a midweek game against a team that will remain unnamed. Suffice it to say, they were not in the league of those we had been playing so far.
Our freshman went out and got 4 hits. His teammates were more excited than he was! (Probably not.) The load had lifted. He went on to have a great season and ultimately a great college career and into professional baseball.
What is the point of this example? The player believed he belonged. Even when I was questioning it, he wasn’t. And I didn’t crush his belief.
In my experience, this type of player is rare. One who fails on the biggest stage he’s yet been and has the humility to recognize it and the confidence to face it. And speaks it directly to the guy making out the lineup.
I sometimes wonder how many other players I might have breathed confidence into by just continuing to assure them they belonged.
Belonging, present ability, and present role are not the same thing.
A freshman can absolutely belong in a program and not be good enough to play today.
Maybe what he needs to hear is:
We didn’t recruit you because we thought you were a finished product. We recruited you because we believe in what you can become.
A coach can lend a player confidence until the player has enough evidence to own it himself.
High Standards Without Conditional Belonging
None of this means performance doesn’t matter. Belonging does not mean everybody plays.
It doesn’t mean poor performance has no consequences.
It doesn’t mean avoiding difficult conversations or lowering standards.
A player can belong and lose his starting position.
A pitcher can belong and be removed from the rotation.
A coach can honestly say both:
“I believe in you.”
and
“You’re not performing well enough to play right now.”
Good coaches create environments of high standards without conditional belonging.
Performance matters enormously. But today’s performance does not have to determine a player’s value within the program.
Ultimately, the goal should not be to develop a player who needs to look toward the dugout after every pitch to find out whether his coach still believes in him.
The goal is for him to know. And then let him compete.
When the Ball Is No Longer in Your Hand
I don’t remember experiencing much fear as a baseball player.
Even when struggling in professional baseball, fear wasn’t a dominant memory.
As a pitcher, I had the baseball. I was in control.
Becoming a head coach was very different. Much of that anxiety came from having very little control over what was about to happen.
Especially as a young head coach, I faced the same question as the players: Do I belong?
Much of life operates according to this sequence:
Perform. Prove yourself. Earn acceptance. Belong.
That is the world of athletics for both Coaches and Players. That is life here and now.
Fortunately, for those who follow Jesus, the gospel gives a radically different answer.
“But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners(my italics), Christ died for us.”
Romans 5:8, ESV
“He saved us, not because of works done by us(my italics) in righteousness, but according to his own mercy.”
Titus 3:5, ESV
Perhaps the most vivid picture is found at the cross.
One of the two thieves beside Jesus said this:
“Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”
Luke 23:42, ESV
Jesus answered:
“Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”
Luke 23:43, ESV
The man had no opportunity left to prove himself. Jesus did not tell him to perform first.
He had nothing to offer Jesus but his trust in Jesus.
That is the gospel.
God does not tell people to perform well enough until He finally decides they are worthy of belonging to Him. Those who put their trust in Christ are received because of what Christ has done, not because of what they have proven themselves capable of doing.
In Christ, the relationship is established first. Then comes growth.
In a very limited way, it brings to mind what a coach sometimes needs to tell the young player:
You belong here. You’re not ready yet.
The Christian faith does not teach that because someone belongs to Christ, he is already everything he ought to be. But neither does it teach that someone must first become everything he ought to be so that God will receive him.
Belonging does not eliminate development. Belonging provides the security within which development can occur.
There is freedom here for both the player and the coach.
The player who knows he belongs doesn’t have to make every at-bat or every pitch a referendum on his worth.
He can compete.
And the coach who knows where he belongs doesn’t have to make every game a referendum on his worth either.
He can prepare faithfully. He can make the best decisions he can. He can hold players accountable.
He can encourage them. And eventually, he can release an outcome he was never capable of controlling anyway.
Confidence comes from knowing you belong.
For the athlete, that knowledge can create the freedom to compete.
For the coach, it can create the freedom to let him.
And for those who are in Christ, the deepest question of belonging has already been answered.