To the quiet athlete — the parents who love them — and the coaches who bring out the best in them —
Some lead with presence.
Some lead with calm.
Some lead without saying a word.
To the quiet athlete —
Being quiet is not a flaw. It’s a strength.
You don’t need to be the loudest voice in the room to be one of the most impactful players on the court.
You are steady.
You are confident — even when others mistake your silence for doubt.
You are a contributor — even when you don’t demand the spotlight.
You are a difference-maker — because you know when to speak and when to simply lead by example.
To the parents —
Let them be.
Your child’s quietness isn’t something to fix.
It’s something to celebrate.
Encourage them to find and use their voice — not because they have to be loud, but because they deserve to be heard.
Teach them that leadership can look like calm in chaos.
That strength isn’t always volume.
And that who they are is exactly who they’re meant to be.
To the coaches —
Please don’t overlook them.
Quiet doesn’t mean incapable.
It doesn’t mean indifferent.
And it certainly doesn’t mean they don’t belong.
The quiet ones are often the most steady.
They are the ones who anchor the team when emotions run high.
The ones who listen, absorb, and respond with wisdom.
The ones whose consistency becomes contagious.
If your expectation is that leadership must be loud —
You’ll miss the quiet ones who carry greatness inside.
Don’t sign them off.
Instead, lean in.
Nurture who they are.
Help them harness their strength and find their voice — not someone else’s.
Because quiet athletes are often the calm in the storm.
And what team doesn’t need more of that?
With heart,
A coach who sees you all
© 2025 Becca Johnson, Rooted You™ Consulting. All rights reserved.
This content is the intellectual property of Becca Johnson and may not be reproduced, distributed, or used without permission.
To the athletes who didn’t make the cut — and the parents who love them most — and the coaches who care —
A room full of talent. A sea of personalities. And a handful of spots.
At this level, everyone is good.
And yet, decisions must be made.
For some athletes — especially juniors and seniors — this might feel like the end of the road.
Like the dream is over.
Like you weren’t enough.
But please, hear this:
This moment does not define you.
It is a chapter — not your whole story.
Yes, it hurts. Deeply.
But pain is often the place where the most powerful growth begins.
Some let it make them bitter.
The best let it make them better.
Choose better.
Choose strength.
Choose resilience.
Choose character.
To the parents —
This is your moment, too.
Not to fix it.
Not to fight it.
But to wrap your child in love, remind them of who they are beyond the game, and walk with them into what’s next.
Please don’t tear down coaches.
Don’t question the character of others to soothe the sting.
It doesn’t help your athlete rise. It just teaches them how to fall.
And to the coaches —
The burden you carry is heavier than most will ever see.
To evaluate. To decide. To hope you got it right.
The good ones don’t take it lightly.
And the great ones never forget the weight of the kids they couldn’t keep.
To everyone reading this —
It’s not over.
Not unless you decide it is.
There is life after this moment.
There is opportunity still ahead.
There is greatness in the making.
So lift your head.
Support one another.
And keep becoming.
With heart,
A coach who sees you all
© 2025 Becca Johnson, Rooted You™ Consulting. All rights reserved.
This content is the intellectual property of Becca Johnson and may not be reproduced, distributed, or used without permission.
