Submission by Mike Kayes, American Policy Center

I am pleased to share this inspirational story from author and activist Mike Kayes. Now retired from the investment business, he dedicates his life to working with young people in a sports ministry to provide positive motivation and spiritual guidance. He has written several books. His websites include https://www.kayesbooks.com and mikekayes10@outlook.com.

I’m sharing Mike’s story in three parts. This is the third and final part. Please feel free to share it.
~ Tom DeWeese, President of American Policy Center

Life lessons through sports
There are multiple life lessons that can be learned through a properly focused athletic program. Here are a few real-life experiences.

Lesson 8 – With great talent comes great responsibility
It was obvious to everyone that Luke was an outstanding athlete with unlimited potential as a basketball player. He was a head taller than every player his age, was self-confident, and had remarkable skills. He was 12 years old. His dad was a college athlete, and I knew he could see the potential in his oldest son. I also knew his dad understood what needed to be addressed. Since Luke was so much better than everyone else, he had a tendency to get lazy. He wasn’t being challenged. So, I had an idea and shared it with his dad.

“Luke has a world of talent, but no one is pushing him. We can let him continue as is, not really trying very hard, but I don’t think that is the best for him as a person or as a player,” I said.
“I agree, he’s lazy,” his dad said.
“So, how about if I guard him in the scrimmages and push him a little bit?” I said.
“Kick his butt,” his dad said.

Which is basically what I did to his 12-year-old son. I blocked his shots, pushed him off rebounds, and blew by him to score repeated layups. I gave no quarter that day. After practice I went up to Luke and said, let’s talk. I could see that he was a bit shaken.

“Luke, you are the most talented player here by far,” I said. This picked up his spirits. “But because of that, you have to give a greater effort than the other players.” He looked puzzled.
“You have the ability to achieve greatness, but you can’t get there on talent alone. You have to work harder because you are more talented, not less. Does that make sense?” He nodded. He got it.

Fast forward, Luke was a non-scholarship player at a major basketball program. As he focused on making the team and earning a scholarship (which he did), he told the coach that he could promise one thing—no one would outwork him. Luke now wears an NCAA National Championship ring.

With talent comes great responsibility. It might require a dose of tough love, but you have to embrace it.

Lesson 9 – You can’t save them all, but you should try to
I first started coaching Maurice when he was 9 years old at a local YMCA. He was tall and skinny, not very skilled, but blazing fast and a remarkably natural athlete. I will never forget the glow on his grandmother’s face as I talked about Maurice and his amazing potential. I think she hoped that I would stay involved in his life after the season ended.

Here’s what happens in most youth sports experiences involving a coach and a promising young player: a bond is established, and the player receives a lot of attention during the season. All this ends once the season is over. The coach goes back to his job, family, neighborhood—maybe on to another sport. But what happens to the player? Sometimes he returns to his family and carries on. But some can’t. Why?

Maurice’s dad has been in prison his entire life. His mom is a drug addict who once took him to Target to shoplift. She even abandoned him there to avoid arrest. He was about six years old. Maurice had no real place to go back to. Sadly, situations like these aren’t rare.

To be impactful and truly change lives requires more than being a dedicated coach for one season. It takes far more than that. Few coaches have the time or energy to continue the relationship after the season, but that’s what it takes.

On that 9-year-old YMCA basketball team, my oldest son was one of Maurice’s teammates. Once we became aware of Maurice’s difficult home situation, my wife and I discussed adopting him. But with two other children, we decided not to. It remains one of my deepest regrets as a coach and as a Christian.

I kept an eye on Maurice over the next ten years. He struggled in school and in escaping the generational poverty and negative influences around him. He was arrested and served time, but I stayed hopeful. Once, after he was released, he asked me for money to pay his phone bill.

“Maurice, I will never give you money. You are too good for that. You are smart, talented, strong, and capable of taking care of yourself.” He got mad, but I felt it was the right message.

During his second prison sentence he wrote me a letter, saying he wanted to be a better dad than his own father. I encouraged him to make better decisions and told him I would be there to help.

I also spent time with his grandmother, helping her cope with aging. All of this was far above my pay grade as a basketball coach. When does our responsibility to the less fortunate end? What do we do when what is required is far beyond our comfort zone? When government programs fail, what is our responsibility? Tough questions.

The bottom line is that even heartfelt efforts sometimes can’t overcome societal forces. Maurice is currently back in prison, serving a six-year sentence. I lost this one, and I feel I could have done better.

Lesson 10 – Loving every kid does not mean treating them all the same
How should a coach measure his effectiveness at the end of the season in terms of building character? Not an easy thing to do. Most of what a coach does is carefully and intentionally planting seeds to grow future leaders, parents, and citizens. In most cases, he won’t see the fruits of his efforts until many years later, if at all.

At a recent parent meeting at the high school where I currently coach, a parent asked an insightful question: how would I measure the success of the season? He was concerned I wasn’t focused enough on the win-loss record. I answered honestly: “I will know we had a successful season when these guys grow up to be amazing fathers and husbands.”

All the moms smiled. Not quite all the dads.

Over nearly three decades, I’ve never coached two kids exactly the same. They come from different backgrounds, families, and philosophies. They all have different skills, temperaments, and sensitivities.

A coach has to earn the trust of each player, with openness, consistency, discipline, and creativity. Why creativity? Because each player is unique. The skilled coach knows when to apply tenderness, tough love, encouragement, or understanding. When delivered at the right time, kids blossom. Of course, even the most experienced coach sometimes gets it wrong. I know I have. Still, we keep trying, always with the long-term best interests of the kid in mind.

Lesson 11 – Be bold and have a religious agenda
Coaching kids has always been a spirit-filled experience for me. Once, a parent went to the headmaster of the charter school where I coached basketball and accused me of having a religious agenda.

Called before the headmaster, I said, “Yes, I do. I want each kid to know that God loves them.”
She said, “Keep doing what you’re doing.”

What are we doing when we coach kids? It depends entirely on the coach’s agenda. Some coach to win at all costs. Some coach to live vicariously through their own child. But the best coaches do it for the right reasons:

• To build character
• To show God’s love through the Holy Spirit
• To challenge kids to become their best
• To build a relationship that endures beyond the season

Every school or sports program should ask each coaching candidate the question: Why do you want to coach? If the answer isn’t “to build character,” they shouldn’t be hired. And candidates should be able to articulate how they will develop character—not just talk about it.

Why is this rare? Because ego and pride get in the way. It takes humility not to yell at referees, or to be genuinely happy for the other team after losing a close game. Demonstrating character under pressure is never easy, but if coaches can’t model it, players won’t learn it.

Lesson 12 – Expect more, get more
I was coaching a JV team at a Christian school. Down one with 14 seconds left, I called timeout. I looked at Kyle, our point guard and best player—though also our youngest. He wasn’t quite ready to be the leader I knew he could be. Still, I took a chance.

“Kyle, you are our best player. Get the ball, attack the basket, and score.”

That’s exactly what he did, winning the game. From then on, Kyle was our leader. When players trust their coach, a challenge like this can unlock their potential. It’s a gamble—failure can be devastating—but success builds confidence for life.

A coach must know his players and trust his instincts. But he must also remember that losing can be more beneficial to character development than winning. Losing teaches humility and can spark greater effort, self-assessment, and teamwork.

Lesson 13 – Don’t bail them out. Let the kids figure it out
In nearly three decades of coaching, I rarely called timeouts. Basketball is dynamic, and kids need to learn to think under pressure. Leaders emerge in those moments.

During a close rivalry game, Tylan looked at me, frustrated. Our matchups were wrong, and we weren’t executing. After a foul, he came to me.
“The matchups are wrong,” he said.
“Yep. Match them up. Look for the back cut on dribble weave,” I said.

Tylan took over. He switched the defense, made a key pass, then scored himself. Sometimes, I’d just look at him and say, “Figure it out.” He could. He just needed to know I believed in him.

Lesson 14 – Demand personal integrity of all coaches and players
There isn’t a school in America that teaches a course called Personal Integrity. I’m not sure why, since nothing is more important. A coach can teach it, though—by modeling it, discussing it, reinforcing it, and demanding accountability.

Integrity is more than telling the truth. It’s effort, dependability, showing up on time, exceeding expectations. It requires reinforcement, forgiveness, and accountability. Kids notice hypocrisy instantly. Coaches must live it out consistently.

Lesson 15 – Coaching ability matters
A coach who has never played the sport he is coaching will struggle to be impactful.

I was practicing the long jump at a local high school track during the 20-plus years I spent competing in masters track and field. When I finished my workout, I noticed a group of high school kids at the discus cage. I walked over slowly and watched. What I saw was awful, but not surprising. None of the kids had any clue what they were doing. They were goofing off, and several were even standing inside the netting while others threw—a serious safety violation. A man was supervising but giving almost no instruction, and the kids clearly weren’t paying attention.

“Hi, are you the throws coach?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“Ever throw before?” I said.
“No, I’m a science teacher,” he answered with a chuckle.
“Mind if I help out?” I asked.
“Please do,” he said.

I immediately called the kids together and started coaching them. We began with basic safety rules, then I demonstrated how to hold the discus, how to spin it off the index finger, and how to release from the power position with hips open and shoulders closed. Because I could actually throw better than any of them, they paid attention and started learning.

Why would any kid interested in throwing the discus pay attention to a coach who has never thrown one? They won’t. And if the kids won’t listen, how is the coach going to teach them anything about discipline, respect, or character development?

In most schools, teachers get the first option to coach secondary sports. Schools will usually make sure the football, basketball, or baseball coach has playing experience, but in many other sports prior experience isn’t required. That approach sets coaches up to fail at teaching character. Why? Because kids tune them out the moment they realize the coach doesn’t know what he’s talking about. If he can’t show them how to throw a discus, why would they take his advice about integrity or personal challenges? It won’t happen.

At the same time, just because someone has played the sport—even at the college or professional level—doesn’t guarantee he understands character development. Both skill and perspective matter. A great coach needs not only experience in the game but also the humility and wisdom to model life lessons that extend far beyond it.