—And That’s a Good Thing
Every junior player needs a support system. Tennis is tough. The best young players don’t make it on their own—they have parents who guide them through the highs and lows, who drive them to tournaments, cheer from the sidelines, and celebrate the journey. But here’s where things get messy: Parents are not coaches. And the moment they try to be, things start falling apart.
It’s natural to want to help. To want to fix what went wrong in a match. To analyze every point and offer advice on what could have been better. But let’s be brutally honest: Post-match “coaching” isn’t helping. It’s hurting. Your well-meaning critiques, the breakdown of missed shots, the sideline instructions—it all turns into pressure, doubt, and frustration. Instead of being the steady force your child needs, you become another source of stress, and tennis becomes a minefield where they’re constantly trying to impress you instead of simply playing, learning, and improving.
The best juniors don’t thrive because their parents micromanage every match. They thrive because their parents create a safe space—where tennis isn’t an endless critique session, where their worth isn’t tied to their performance, and where the game remains something they love, not something they fear. Great parents in tennis aren’t strategists, stroke technicians, or motivational speakers. They are the calm in the storm, the ones who pack snacks, crack jokes, and, win or lose, simply say, “I love watching you play.”
Coaching and parenting are not the same thing, and the best thing a parent can do is know the difference. Coaches teach, challenge, and refine. They have the emotional distance to make tough calls, to push when necessary, and to detach from results in a way parents simply can’t. Parents, on the other hand, provide stability, encouragement, and—perhaps most importantly—perspective. When these roles get blurred, the result is a player caught between two conflicting voices, torn between wanting to improve and wanting to avoid disappointing the people they care about most.
Tennis is hard enough without the added burden of feeling like every match is a test they must pass to earn approval. Players who grow up in households where tennis is a constant topic of conversation, where every dinner table discussion turns into a tactical breakdown, where losses feel like failures instead of learning experiences—those players rarely last. The ones who do? They come from families where tennis isn’t an argument, but a journey. Where setbacks are met with encouragement, not interrogation. Where they feel supported no matter the outcome, because their value isn’t tied to a win-loss record.
If you want your child to truly succeed, step back. Let them own their tennis. Let them take responsibility for their progress. Let them figure things out on their own, with their coach guiding the way. And most importantly, let them know that whether they win or lose, whether they play great or struggle, they are enough.
Instead of dissecting a match, ask them where they want to go for dinner. Instead of hovering at practice, trust the coach to do their job while you do yours—offering support, not instructions. Instead of making tennis the center of every conversation, let them bring it up when they want to. And if they don’t? That’s okay, too.
Your child doesn’t need another coach. They need a parent who cheers louder for their effort than their ranking. Who celebrates their resilience more than their trophies. Who reminds them that tennis is something they do, not who they are.
(Share this with a parent who needs to hear it—before they become the reason their kid quits.)
