A Lesson from the Car Ride Home After a Game

A Lesson from the Car Ride Home After a Game

If you’ve ever left a game unsure of what to say to your child—or wondering if you said too much—you’re not alone.

The car ride home after a game can be one of the hardest moments in youth sports. Emotions are high. Disappointment lingers. And as parents, we often feel pressure to say the right thing.

I want to share a story that’s stayed with me—because I think a lot of sports parents can relate.

Watching Your Child Compete (and Hurt)

Our oldest daughter has been playing competitive pickleball tournaments for over a year now. It’s been really fun watching her grow—playing more tournaments, competing against stronger players, and slowly working her way into tougher games.

At one tournament recently, she was having an incredible day. She went undefeated match after match… until it came down to the championship game.

That’s when her nerves got the best of her.

She lost the match, and the disappointment hit hard. This wasn’t the first time that exact scenario had happened, which made it hurt even more. I could see the tears welling up as she tried to finish the game, and as her dad, it was brutal to watch.

The Car Ride Home (Where We Often Get Stuck)

We got into the car, tears still in her eyes. And without even thinking about it, I jumped in.

I started sharing my perspective—what I noticed during the game, where I thought she lost confidence, and what I thought we could work on next time. I asked questions I thought would help her reflect and grow.

But the more I talked, I noticed the more she shut down.

And in that moment, I realized something uncomfortable:

What I was saying wasn’t what she needed—it was what I needed.

I was trying to make sense of the loss for myself.
I was trying to ease my own discomfort.

Ouch.

So I stopped talking.

We didn’t talk about the game for the rest of the drive. I let her sit with the disappointment, tears and all. And honestly, it took everything in me not to say more—wondering the whole time if I was handling it the “right” way.

Why Timing Matters More Than the Right Words

Later that night, as I was putting her to bed, I laid down next to her and simply asked how she was doing.

This time, she opened up.

She told me how bummed she was—but her body was calmer. She felt safer. She was far enough removed from the moment of the game that she could actually talk about it again.

And this time, I listened.

We talked about what she learned, what parts of the day were fun, and what she was proud of. The conversation felt different—not like a post-game breakdown, but like connection.

It felt like she could look at the day not through failure, but through reassurance—that her worth wasn’t tied to winning or losing that match.

That experience changed something for me.

Here’s the simple takeaway I keep coming back to:

Timing matters more than saying the “right” thing.

In the heat of the moment—right after a game—kids’ nervous systems are still activated. Emotions haven’t settled yet. Perspective isn’t accessible.

What kids often need first is space, safety, and reassurance that they’re okay.
The conversation can come later.

Why This Is So Hard for Parents

More often than not, we speak up after a game because we care deeply, not because we’re trying to control our kids. We speak because we want to help. Because watching our kids struggle—especially when we can’t fix it—is hard and uncomfortable.

When emotions rise in those moments, our instinct is often to reach for words. To explain. To process. To make sense of what just happened. Sometimes talking is how we try to regulate our own feelings—our worry, our disappointment, our hope for them. And to be honest, it's because I don't always love the way I feel watching my kids struggle through something hard.

There’s no shame in that—but with a little awareness I believe there is another way.

A Gentle Reframe for the Car Ride Home

If you’ve ever wondered:

  • Did I say too much after the game?
  • Should I have stayed quiet instead?
  • Did I mess that up?

Take a breath. You’re not failing at that moment and you’re not failing your child. Silence isn’t always neglect. Space isn’t always disengagement. Waiting isn't a weakness.

Often, what those really are is trust.

Trust that after the disappointment settles, they’ll come back around to talk about it. Trust that your child can handle the hard even when you want to rescue them from it. Trust that these experiences are the ones that actually help them grow.

A Simple Resource for Hard Moments After Games

Because this is a conversation we’ve often had with other sports parents, we put together a small, practical guide with 10 simple phrases you can lean on after a game—win or lose. Ones that we’ve used over and over again as we’ve navigated the ups and downs ourselves.

They aren’t scripts, and they aren’t meant to be said perfectly or fix anything. They’re simply steady, grounding words you can return to when emotions are high, the moment feels tender, and you want to support your child without rushing them past what they’re feeling.

If that sounds helpful, you can get the free guide here →

Final Thoughts and Takeaway

Sports have a powerful way of shaping kids—not just as athletes, but as humans. And how we walk with them through wins, losses, and everything in between matters more than we often realize.

You don’t have to say everything right. You just have to stay connected.

And If you’re here reading this, chances are you’re doing way better than you may think.

 

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