Showcase culture is rapidly killing youth sport. That is to say, somewhere along the way, we lost the plot.
Youth sports stopped being about kids—and started being about outcomes associated with adult expectations.
Scholarships. Showcases. Recruiting emails. Highlight reels. ID Camps. Commitments. The comparison game is out of control. I was receiving emails from 8th graders at a division III school.
And in sports like field hockey, where the reality is that college (and thus professional) opportunities are limited in the states, we’ve built an entire ecosystem that acts like everyone is on a Division I track.
They’re not. It’s not possible. Between international students and funding for programs… they just aren’t. They can’t be.
And more importantly?
They don’t need to be. This is not what sport is meant to be about. And we know better.
The Problem We’re Not Talking About
I spend a lot of time on fields, talking to players, coaches, and parents across the country. And the same themes keep showing up:
Kids are specializing earlier than ever. Athletes afraid to make mistakes because “someone is watching”. Club and development coaches feel pressure to “produce” commits instead of develop people. Families investing time and money chasing something that may never come. Overuse injuries are becoming more and more prevalent.
And underneath all of it is this quiet assumption:
If it’s not leading to college recruitment, it’s not worth it.
That’s the lie. I’m certainly not supposed to talk about it. But I always have (some folks will recall my conversation about recruiting on a recent coach panel). There’s money to be made in college recruiting, sure. But at what cost?
The Reality About Scholarships
Let’s ground this for a second.
College roster spots are limited. Scholarship money is limited. And in many programs, it’s divided across an entire team—not handed out as full rides. Some programs are far from fully funded.
The percentage of athletes who go on to play in college—at any level—is small.
The percentage who receive meaningful scholarship money?
Even smaller.
Yet we’re structuring entire childhoods around this outcome. And then… the transfer portal when kids realize they are unhappy.
What It’s Costing Our Athletes
When everything becomes about recruitment, the experience of sport changes.
Play becomes performance. Curiosity shifts to caution. Development thus gives way to pressure.
And kids feel it.
They stop trying new things. They avoid risk. They become fixed-mindset people, shying away from anything that might make them look or seem anything other than perfect.
They begin to measure their worth by external validation instead of internal growth. We say we want confident, creative, adaptable athletes.
But the environment we’ve built? It more often than not produces the opposite.
We’re Losing Something Bigger
This is the part that worries me the most.
We are losing recreational sport.
The spaces where kids can:
Try something new, play with friends, fall in love with the game, and stay in the sport without needing to have elite aspirations. The number of players I hear at NXC sharing their commitments instead of where they are from is frustrating. It creates a hierarchy and expectation instead of building a proper team dynamic. Players who are not committed are made to feel “less than” and I am left to share that there is a home for everyone! Division I isn’t everything! You’re on your own timeline! It’s ok!
Youth recreational programs are disappearing or shrinking, because everything is being funneled into “competitive pathways” and “pay to play” structures. In sport and society, we call it, “the privatization of sport”. We have to have rules about attending high school games over club/AAU activities, because kids would skip out on high school if they had the choice.
And when kids don’t make—or don’t want—those “elite” pathways?
They leave. And not just high-performance tracks.
They leave the sport entirely. Because the other tracks are considered “less than” and we have popularized the journey of the individual. Not the team and lessons that come with striving for something – and either failing or succeeding.
Early Specialization Isn’t the Shortcut We Think It Is
There’s this belief that starting earlier and doing more will give athletes an edge.
But what I’m seeing—and what research continues to support—is the following…
Early specialization often leads to:
Burnout, overuse injuries, reduced overall athleticism, and shorter sport careers. I was chatting with an ATC this spring (who has his CSCS) about how unathletic kids look nowadays when not partaking in their primary sport… and it is because they lack the overall motor patterns required of general athleticism. Transferable skills no longer exist. If you don’t want the elite pathway, then you’re considered “less than” and it’s not “cool” to play for your high school or rec team (back to the commitment conversations – credibility comes with those convos – and the number of times I have to tell many of my U18’s that it is OKAY if they aren’t committed, and that everyone has their own path, is insane).
And more importantly, they experience a loss of joy. Look at the experience Alyssa Liu had with her sport. She left because it was all too much, and only returned when she could be certain she would be able to do things on HER terms. I share this sentiment with parents often – if you are pulling or pushing your child along, they will burnout. Not if, but when. Make sure they are the ones asking to be on this journey.
We’re asking 10-, 11-, and 12-year-olds to train like professionals for a future that isn’t guaranteed—and shouldn’t define them anyway.
So What Should We Be Aiming For?
What if we zoomed out?
What if success in youth sport looked like:
Kids who want to keep playing, athletes who can think, adapt, and problem-solve, environments where mistakes are part of learning, and programs that welcome all levels, not just the “top” ones (without treating any as “less-than”). Having a space and a home for everyone, regardless of ability.
What if the goal wasn’t recruitment…
But retention?
Not just building better players—but building lifelong participants in sport.
A Better Way Forward
This doesn’t mean college aspirations are bad.
They’re not. Heck, I played two sports in college. Three in high school.
For some athletes, college play is a meaningful and exciting goal.
But it should be:
A pathway option for those who so choose. Not the entire purpose of youth sport. Not the child’s entire identity.
As coaches, parents, and leaders, we have to create space for a more balanced experience!
One where development matters more than exposure. Enjoyment matters more than any outcomes ever could, and kids are allowed to be exactly where and who they are.
Clubs and development programs might find that they profit more when more players are involved. I haven’t crunched the numbers, but more participants likely could mean more income. So it might be a worthwhile business model. Maybe.
The Question We Need to Ask
Before every decision—every team, every tournament, every extra training session—we should be asking:
Is this actually serving the athlete in front of me?
Or is it serving the idea of what we hope they might become?
Not everything has to be for college recruitment. Not everything has to be about dollar signs. The more we care for the individual, their growth and development, and their experience… the better our sport can be. And honestly, at the end of that, you might just find yourself making more of that money you so seek.
And if we can start to believe that—really believe it—we might just give the game back to the kids who are playing it.
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