Devlin describes instruction as:

“primarily one-directional, from an instructor (we should not use the word teacher here) to the student. Education in the instruction mode proceeds along the lines: first provide information, then give an opportunity to practice, then test.”

In contrast, teaching is

“unlike instruction, which is essentially unidirectional and provides no guarantee of learning that which is ostensibly being ‘taught,’ teaching (the real kind) is bi-directional. In fact, you can’t separate real teaching from learning. They are simply two perspectives of the same human interactive process. From the teacher’s perspective it is teaching, from the student’s perspective it is learning.”

Devlin suggests that many people do well in an instruction setting though they may not understand or learn the material:

Many students do learn to do well in this system. Some of the ones who do well actually learn what the course is supposed to be about, though others (and I suspect most) simply learn how to pass the course tests. Case in point: I got straight A’s on all my high school calculus courses (“freshman calculus” in US terms), but only when I was a doctoral student in mathematics faced with running problem sessions for math undergraduates did I actually start to understand calculus. At school I had merely learned how to pass the tests. At graduate school, five years later, I finally learned calculus, by way of trying to teach it.

Academics and athletics differ in many things. However, there is a parallel. When I was in 5th and 6th grade, my team ran the Flex. we practiced the Flex. I could run the Flex. I learned “what the offense was supposed to be about”. However, I did not learn the skills within the offense, namely reading screens. We ran from point A to point B because that is what we were instructed to do. That’s how “we passed the test,” so to speak, to ensure playing time. Years later, primarily when playing pick-up games, I learned how to read and use a screen.

When coaches instruct in a unidimensional manner, there is no guarantee of learning. I have recounted these two stories before, but they explain the point:

I watched a girls’ varsity game during a summer showcase event. One team ran the same play every time down the court. After two to three possessions, the defense knew what was coming. They stopped defending, and played the play. First, they got  a lay-up for a steal. Next, they had two players running to steal the point to wing entry pass. While two players ran to steal the pass, the point guard never took her eyes off the intended receiver, and the post player left alone under the basket never turned to look for a pass: she was too busy going to set the next screen in the play. The team was so focused on running its play that it forced passes that became turnovers rather than doing something different, and easier, that would have created an immediate lay-up.

I ran a clinic one time. I always tell players to ask questions if they do not understand. At the end of the clinic, I got on this group a little bit because they made mistakes, but never asked questions. They were a pretty good varsity team and several of their players had worked out with me previously, so I was aware of their ability. I told them that they had to ask questions if they did not understand something, and I said something about their coach being willing to answer questions. A couple players snickered. I let it go and ended my rant. Afterward, I asked an assistant why the girls had laughed. The head coach had a rule that they were not allowed to ask questions; they had to go to an assistant at a break and write down their question, and the assistants evaluated whether or not to bother the head coach with the question.

How do either of these examples illustrate teaching? What are these players learning? These coaches are interested in obedient players who follow their orders, not players who understand the game and make plays. Unfortunately, while these two examples may be extremes, they also are far too reflective of common coaching procedures.

What is the goal? Is a coach there to instruct or to teach? Are players there to follow directions or to learn? Are successful teams the ones with the most order and structure or the ones with the players who can think the game? Is the goal of coaching to get players “to pass the test” or to enhance their playing abilities by helping them learn?

By Brian McCormick, M.S.S., PES
Coach/Clinician, Brian McCormick Basketball
Author, Cross Over: The New Model of Youth Basketball Development
Director of Coaching, Playmakers Basketball Development League

My friend – a father of five and a good youth basketball coach – sent me this email:

“Here’s a stupid story. My son is playing minors baseball (with actual pitching) this year. He’s always been a real confident player (almost cocky), and he’s an above-average player at his park and easily the best player on his sorry team. Anyway, he swings at a lot of bad pitches. His coach yells at him and threatens to move him back in the order every time he grounds out or pops up on a bad pitch. I stayed out of the way until I realized he was so nervous at the plate that he was striking out. I finally got it out of him that he was trying to walk because he was afraid of swinging at bad pitches and he wouldn’t swing until he had at least two strikes and then he would swing at ANYTHING. I told him to stop listening to his stupid coach and swing at anything he thought he could hit. Anyway, he ended up making the All-Star team and is doing OK again.”

My friend is a bit of a Little League Dad, and most people probably cringe when picturing a dad telling his son to ignore his “stupid coach,” but he has a point.

A coach, at some point, should talk to his players about pitch selection and working the count. However, eight-years-old might not be the right age. Players make mistakes for three basic reasons:

1. They don’t understand.
2. They aren’t good enough yet to do what is asked of them or at least not good enough yet to execute consistently.
3. They don’t care.

Most coaches believe that players make mistakes because they don’t care. If the coach believed that his player did not understand the instructions or  felt that the player was not good enough, he would not yell and threaten the player. Instead, his actions (debatable as they are) show that he believes the player does not care; maybe he thinks the player does not care about winning or he does not care about getting on-base or he does not care about the coach’s instructions.

The player’s actions show that he does care. He listened to his coach and tried too hard to follow his directions. He changed his approach and did not want to swing at anything that his coach deemed a bad pitch.

As a coach and parent, my friend says, “Children are perfect. It’s my job not to screw them up.” He believes that young players will learn naturally.

Rather than yell at the player to get a reaction, the results will instruct the player. Left alone, if the player hits too many pop-ups because he swings at high pitches, he will learn to avoid the high pitch. As he gains experience, he will learn which pitches lead to hits and which pitches lead to outs. He will learn to avoid the pitches that lead to outs and attack the pitches that lead to hits.

Unfortunately, nobody has time to allow an eight-year-old to accrue the experience necessary to determine which pitches to swing at and which to avoid. Therefore, we instruct.

However, rather than believing that the player lacks the experience to execute consistently, the coach believes that he does not care, so he yells at him. Rather than inspiring the desired response – a little more plate discipline – the coach inspires a fear of failure that leads the player to avoid swinging the bat.

When I was a high school freshman, I was a good shooter. In junior high school, I won several shooting contests. During our first high school game, our coach instituted a “five-pass rule” as a reaction to a couple quick three-point shots.

Rather than step in and shoot, the rule distracted my attention. I thought about whether the shot was a good shot or not and whether we had made five passes. I questioned the shot. Consequently, I became a worse shooter. My coach did not intend to make me a worse shooter, but he did not understand the consequences of his instructions. He intended to create an awareness of shot selection. Instead, he created a fear of being substituted if the shot missed.

Curiously, he picked the player who listened the least as the team MVP. Most of us struggled because we wanted to follow the coach’s directions. We were probably too coachable. We ran the offense, made the easy play, etc. However, the MVP ignored the five-pass rule and put his head down and drove to the basket almost every time. He was a black hole in the post – the ball went into him and it never came out.

I see this discrepancy between the coach’s words and the coach’s actions often. Even with my friend’s son, the coach did not say much when his son swung at a bad pitch and got a hit. This is a problem with inexperienced coaches: they coach by the result, not the process.

Last month, I worked out two girls who I used to train. The senior is headed to an NAIA school to play college basketball and the sophomore is starting to get the attention of DII and low DI schools. The two players are on the short side, even for a college guard, and neither is a true point guard.

Both are quick and good ball handlers, and the senior is the better shooter. The biggest difference, however, is their mentalities.

The senior is the ultimate competitor and team player; she loves to play basketball. When I met her, I did not think she had a chance to play college basketball. But, she loves to play and works hard. She did not start until her senior season. She sacrificed her game for the good of the team. In a sense, she is the player that every coach describes when he talks about the player that he wants. She is the patient hitter who happily takes a walk rather than swing at a bad pitch or who turns down a decent shot to make an extra pass.

The sophomore is coachable and listens well, but she has something else to her. She is a competitor, but her competitive fire usually leads her to believe that she needs to make a play. She has the personality to want the ball in the last seconds of a game. She trusts herself to make the play, not her teammates. In a sense, she is the player that coaches want if you go by their actions. She is the player who swings at some bad pitches because of her self-confidence or the player who puts her head down and attacks the basket.

As much as coaches talk about teamwork and sharing the ball, when push comes to shove, the coach wants the player who tries to make something happen, not the player who plays smart and tries to make the right play.

In my friend’s email, he said:

“My wife (a three-sport athlete in high school) and I agree that what makes a good high school player is simply the belief that you’re a good player. Obviously, that only takes you so far. But I honestly think you need absolutely no God-given ability to play high school sports successfully. You just need to like working on your game, and you have to believe that you’re better then you really are.”

In a sense, when I look at the two girls, that is the difference. They both like working on their games, but the sophomore believes that she is better than she is and the senior is not sure that she is as good as she is.

While we do not want to develop selfish or egocentric youth players, coaches and parents cannot allow their words to squelch a player’s confidence. There is a fine line between following the coach’s directions and believing in your ability to make the play or get the hit. The best players go for it, while the others straddle the line and play it safe.

While telling your son or daughter that his or her coach is “stupid” is probably not the best advice, players – especially really young players – should be encouraged to be aggressive.

It is much easier to teach a good hitter to have better plate discipline as a 10 or 11-year-old than to take a player who lacks confidence and is afraid to swing the bat and try and make them into an aggressive hitter.

There are many lessons to learn in youth sports and following directions is certainly one. However, youth sports also provide a great environment to build a child’s confidence.

By Brian McCormick
Brian McCormick Basketball
Author, Cross Over: The New Model of Youth Basketball Development
Director of Coaching, Playmakers Basketball Development League

Why switch and leave Holiday to cover KG? In late-game situations, switching is a popular defensive tactic, as the defense does not want to leave an open shot by going under the screen or hedging-and-recovering, and with a short clock, the thinking is there is not enough time to exploit the mismatch.

But, why switch on Rondo who is not a great outside shooter? If in the huddle, the coach says to switch all screens, what should the players do? Do they follow the directions explicitly or do they make decisions in the moment?

One characteristic of learning is adaptability – that is, the ability to use a skill in different situations, contexts or environments. In this instance, assuming the directions were to switch, Young and Holiday showed a lack of adaptability to the situation. They followed the directions even when it put their team at a disadvantage.

This often happens. A coach expects a play, like a Pierce/KG pick-and-roll or something involving Ray Allen, so he instructs the players to switch to prevent Pierce or Allen from getting an open shot.

Then, the situation changes. Now, it is Rondo in the pick-and-roll, someone who you might not mind shooting a 22-foot jump shot. Do the players stick to the coach’s directions or do they make their own decisions?

The answer often depends on the coach. If a coach attempts to instruct in a way that limits the players’ adaptability, and therefore limits their learning, the players are likely to follow the directions. However, if the coach empowers the players and develops their decision-making skills, they may adapt to the situation: Young backs off to take away Rondo’s drive and KG’s roll while Holiday goes under the screen.

I saw this lack of adaptability in a high school game. The offense ran the same entry to the wing. The defense picked up on the play and stole the ball. The two defenders on the right side of the court ran after the steal and left a player wide open under the basket. Rather than pass to her, the point guard passed to the wing for another steal. Even worse, the girl standing two feet from the wide open did not know she was open or look for the ball. They followed direction, and lacked adaptability, and consequently their opponent scored six straight points on steals before the coach called timeout and changed to another explicitly stated play.

In these situations, people in the stands are quick to blame the players. It seems so obvious when watching the reply from one’s couch. However, the coach’s coaching and instructional style often has a major influence on the players’ adaptability of learning. The presumed explicit instructions to switch all screens narrowed the players’ attention and inhibited their creative thinking. They followed the directions even when another option may have been the better decision.

By Brian McCormick
Author, Cross Over: The New Model of Youth Basketball Development
Director of Coaching, Playmakers Basketball Development League

Many coaches scoff at the comment or attempt to rationalize it, as everyone knows that making mistakes leads to losses. After all, a coach’s job is to limit mistakes, right? Isn’t that why the coach yells at the tall girl to pass the ball after a rebound rather than dribbling or why he runs the same play to get the same shot for his best player over and over rather than taking the chance of another player shooting?

The problem with avoiding mistakes is that players never develop. You cannot learn a skill perfectly. You have to make mistakes in the process of learning to do something new.

A new research paper by Nate Kornell, Matthew Hays and Robert Bjork at UCLA published in the Journal of Experimental Psychology: Learning, Memory and Cognition promotes the idea as a necessary part of learning:

People remember things better, longer, if they are given very challenging tests on the material, tests at which they are bound to fail. In a series of experiments, they showed that if students make an unsuccessful attempt to retrieve information before receiving an answer, they remember the information better than in a control condition in which they simply study the information. Trying and failing to retrieve the answer is actually helpful to learning. It’s an idea that has obvious applications for education, but could be useful for anyone who is trying to learn new material of any kind.

Coaches tend to be in the habit of providing answers, rather than challenging players to find the answers. When I work with a new player or team, they are taken aback when I ask questions and try to get them to discover the answer rather than simply providing the answer to them.

Coaches often assume that players who make mistake after mistake are not listening. However, they may listen without processing or retaining the information. As this paper illustrates, by struggling to answer questions, rather than being told the answer, players retain more information.

By Brian McCormick
Director of Coaching, Playmakers Basketball Development League