By Ciara Thurlow
I’ve said that to myself — and to parents — many times.
After more than 25 years of coaching, I’ve learned that I’m less interested in what happens when everything is going right than I am in what happens after it doesn’t.
I’ve watched incredibly talented players struggle after a disappointment. And I’ve watched other kids get knocked around, quietly put their heads down and come back more determined. I’ve watched them “Play Bold."
Those are the kids I’ve always noticed.
I think part of the reason is that I know what it feels like to have to keep going when stopping would have been easier.
Before I had my boys, my husband and I went through years of infertility. There were failed attempts, difficult news and doctors who didn’t believe there was much more they could do for me. At different points, I was told no in ways that felt pretty final.
But I wasn’t ready to quit.
I kept looking for another door to open — for someone who believed there was still a way forward, and who believed in me.
Eventually, I found that person.
When I finally became pregnant with my twins, I remember asking him, “Why did this finally work?”
He said, “Because you didn’t quit.”
I have never forgotten that.
"The reason I kept going."
Sports were probably my first school of tough breaks.
You lose. You don’t get picked. Things don’t always go the way you thought they would. You can feel disappointed and still have practice the next day.
So you go back.
You show up.
You keep moving.
I have a picture of my boys when they were little that still makes me laugh. One of the twins had just beaten the other in a contest. One is happily enjoying his prize. The other is sitting in the middle looking absolutely furious.
He didn’t win. He wasn’t happy about it. And that was okay.
There was nothing for us to fix.
Sometimes you don’t get the prize.
As they got older and sports became more serious, we tried to keep that same perspective.
In our house, roster decisions were pretty simple.
If our boys made the team, we didn’t over-celebrate it.
If they didn’t, we didn’t overreact.
Business as usual.
We tried to stay out of the way and let their paths unfold.
That became more important to me as the years went on, because I saw how often something that felt disappointing in the moment ended up helping them somewhere else.
Most of the time, we couldn’t see any of that while it was happening.
We had to let it unfold.
I think that has shaped me as a coach too.
When I evaluate a player, I care less about the resume, the stats or the recognition and more about the things that are harder to measure.
Is she coachable?
How does she respond when something doesn’t go her way?
Does she keep working?
Does she make the people around her better?
Is she still having fun?
Those are the things I find myself noticing now.
Because after all these years, maybe "Play Bold" means something a little different to me.
It’s not only about how you play when things are going well. It’s how you handle the harder parts — the moments when you have to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.
The moments you learn you are tough.
You can’t stop a kid that won’t quit.
I learned that through sports.
I needed it in my own life.
And after all these years, it is still what I hope our girls carry with them the most.