From the Founder, Brian Mazza 10/14
THE WIND IS STRONGEST AT THE TOP
The wind is strongest at the top, but you need to be bulletproof.
Bulletproof in your commitment to the work. Grounded enough to accept criticism, learn from mistakes, and keep going when things stop going your way.
You build that through reps. Through relentless attention to the basics. Through learning to stay composed when the competition gets better, the expectations rise, and your weaknesses get exposed.
This past weekend, two of our four FC Westchester Zone 1 teams won the SUSA Tournament on Long Island against serious competition.
As a director, a coach, and a father, I am incredibly proud. Coaching these boys has become one of the greatest jobs I have ever had. Every week, we have an opportunity to teach them something they can carry for the rest of their lives.
That responsibility goes well beyond the final score.
We talk constantly about winning and development in youth sports. I believe learning how to win belongs inside development, and development has to guide how we pursue winning.
Competition gives the work meaning. It asks whether you can apply what you have practiced when you are nervous, tired, frustrated, or facing someone better.
Those moments reveal where you need to grow.
We need to stop coddling our kids through every correction and treating honest feedback like an attack.
I am hardest on my own children when they are on the pitch. The standards I ask other families to respect have to start with my own.
A coach who gives clear, respectful feedback, explains what needs to improve, and helps a player work on it is investing in that child.
Teach your kids to appreciate that.
Someone is paying attention, someone cares. Someone believes they are capable of more. Someone is willing to have an uncomfortable conversation to help them get there.
And if your child has a teammate who is better, who is performing at a higher level and earning more minutes, there is an opportunity standing right beside them.
Watch that player. Learn from their decisions. Pay attention to how they train. Ask the coach what needs to improve, and go to work on it.
Another player’s success can raise your standard if you are willing to learn from it.
Pressure is a privilege. Learning how to respond to it is part of development.
And that pressure challenges the parents, too.
Watching your child struggle is difficult. Watching them receive criticism or play less than they hoped can hurt. I understand that as a father. I go through it often with my own children.
But our response matters.
We can listen to their disappointment and still help them take responsibility. We can encourage them to ask questions, understand the feedback, and return to training with something specific to work on.
They need our support while they learn to handle those moments.
At eight, nine, and ten years old, the lessons can be simple: listen, take responsibility for your effort, support your teammates, and keep learning when something is difficult.
I wish I had understood that earlier. My inability to accept criticism put a ceiling on my growth as a player.
I was a sour player in college.
Growing up, I was one of the best. I rarely faced criticism that forced me to take a hard look at my game. I became comfortable being good, and somewhere along the way, I started believing that what I had already accomplished made me untouchable.
I thought I had earned it.
Then I got to college, and reality hit me.
My game was picked apart. My weaknesses were exposed. I was hearing things about myself that I had never really had to confront.
My response was, “Why me?”
I took criticism personally. I spent too much energy feeling wronged and too little energy understanding what I could change.
I had a victim mentality.
And I failed myself.
That is uncomfortable to admit, especially now that I am responsible for helping young players navigate those same feelings. But I owe them that honesty.
I know how quickly disappointment can turn into resentment. I know how much energy you can waste defending where you are instead of working toward where you want to be.
That is why I care so much about teaching these lessons now.
A boy can want more minutes and still celebrate his teammate. He can be disappointed in his performance and still listen. He can have a difficult weekend and show up ready to improve.
Gratitude takes practice, especially when your ego, or your family’s, is bruised.
So does being a teammate.
Across a season, different boys will contribute at different times. One might score the winning goal this weekend. Another might make the recovery run that saves the next game. A player finding his confidence in October could become someone the group relies on in the spring.
Our responsibility as coaches is to recognize those contributions, explain our decisions, and keep helping every player grow.
Their responsibility is to stay engaged in the work and in one another.
That is how winning and development strengthen each other.
And those lessons follow us into adulthood. Our families, businesses, and friendships will all ask us to accept feedback, manage disappointment, and contribute when someone else is getting the recognition.
I am proud of what our boys won this weekend. I am equally invested in what they take from the experience.
The wind will keep getting stronger. The basics will keep mattering.
I want our boys to learn how to face that wind now, because I know what it cost me to learn it later.
Nothing changes if nothing changes.
