Errors, Ideals, and the Unorthodox

Originally published in Free Play: A Decade of Writings on Youth Sports

Adults see errors when we watch children play sports. Their skill performance differs from our mental models, which are based on our own experiences or our images of expert performers. When we see a young basketball player with an awkward-looking shot or a baseball player with a funky delivery on the pitching mound, we see mistakes and a need to correct. 

The tendency is to change the individual techniques to match our ideal or mental model. In an ESPN article about Don Bradman, one of the best batsman in cricket history, Jon Hotten wrote, “Bradman developed in childhood an unorthodox but entirely natural way of controlling the bouncing ball. As he made his way in the professional game, attempts were made to change his method, to ‘correct’ his grip and his backlift, but he resisted them. [Dr. Tim] Noakes’ research with groups of young cricketers in Cape Town has confirmed that those who are un-coached tend towards Bradman’s technique naturally. It is only when conventional coaching takes over that their methods become altered.” Are coaches correct to alter the natural technique to a more conventional style of batting?

When I worked a basketball camp for a perennial top 10 NCAA basketball program, the coaches taught the campers a certain method of footwork when shooting. During a break, I watched the university’s best player work out. His footwork differed from their instruction. I asked his teammate about the differences, and he answered, “Oh, that’s Blake. He’s the best shooter in the nation so they let him do whatever he wants.” In my head, I thought, “Why correct young players who shoot like their best shooter?” What makes one technique more correct than another? Why attempt to fit every player into a single ideal technique?

In Human Movement: An Integrated Approach, Joseph Higgins described this as the “ideal form myth”, and wrote that “continued focus upon the ideal form at high levels omits or loses important individualistic aspects of the skill.” Technique is not absolute; individual technique depends on individuals and the environment in which they perform. The shooter excelled with non-ideal technique from his coach’s perspective; fortunately, the coach did not change him, but we spent hours changing youth players to fit the coach’s model.

Higgins explained that there are 3 categories of constraints that contribute to skill performance: Biomechanical, morphological, and environmental. Biomechanical constraints are similar between performers; a shooter overcomes gravity to shoot the ball 10 feet in the air. Every shooter overcomes the same biomechanical constraints, and each technique has some commonalities, even the outliers or those with the awkward-looking shots. 

Morphological constraints include anatomical and perceptual factors. These factors create the greatest differences in techniques between performers. Children cannot shoot with the same technique as Stephen Curry because they have different bodies: Different size, strength, limb lengths, coordination, rhythm, and timing. Young players need techniques that fit their anatomy.

Environmental constraints create the greatest differences within a performer. Individual techniques vary due to temporal or spatial components. The speed of movement prior to the shot, the proximity of defenders, the accuracy of a pass, and more affect the organization of one’s technique. The spatial and temporal constraints change the technique. 

Each player has different morphological constraints, and each performance features different environmental constraints. The ideal technique may not fit a certain individual’s morphology, and the ideal may not be possible under all conditions. In This is Not a Textbook, legendary track and field coach Kelvin Giles wrote, “World-record holders don’t show us ‘perfection’ in technique. They simply show us how their bodies have adapted to the challenges. Better to learn from the way they found the adaptation rather than what they found.” 

In his portrait of Curry for ESPN the Magazine, Dave Fleming wrote about Curry’s grandfather’s hoop where he learned to shoot: “The soft wings of the backboard had more give than a fence gate. The thick steel rim offered no absolution; only shots placed perfectly in the middle of the cylinder passed through. The institutional green metal breaker box just behind the hoop gave off a constant static hum that lured a shooter’s focus away from the target. And the splintery wooden utility pole wasn’t squared to a single landmark — not the white ranch-style house, not the driveway, not the Blue Ridge mountains to the south of the creek to the north. So every shot required instant, expert recalibration.” He adapted to the environment through play and trial and error, as opposed to following a strict model. Later, as he approached the end of high school, his father helped him to change his shot to shoot faster against bigger and better competition, but the roots of his shot, and his adaptability, are derived from his grandfather’s hoop. 

Players do not need to eschew the gym for a hoop on a splintery wooden utility pole, but as Giles suggested, we should learn from the approach rather than trying to mimic the shot’s specifics. I once trained two 9-year-olds, Kevin and Pete. Kevin’s father insisted that he shoot with ideal, adult technique. He lacked size and strength, and this adult technique with the ball starting above his eyes limited Kevin to shots within 15 feet. Pete shot from a lower starting position to generate more strength, and shot 3-pointers comfortably. Kevin’s father believed that Pete had a poor shot because of its low starting point, but Pete was a more accurate shooter who made a wider range of shots.

Pete found his own technique that worked for his morphological constraints and under many different environmental constraints, whereas Kevin’s father focused on an ideal form that was unattainable for a short, slight 9-year-old. Like Curry, as Pete matured, he adjusted his technique to fit his new morphology; he grew taller and stronger. He moved his shot to a slightly higher starting point. His shot did not look like Curry’s, but he followed the same basic path of experimentation and adaptation to find success in different environments. He eventually changed his technique when the new morphology and environmental constraints enabled and demanded adjustments to maintain success. 

Pete’s initial technique worked for him when he was 9, and he played on a basket that was too high and with a ball that was too big for him to shoot with an adult technique. Rather than discourage individual technique and learning through trial and error, he adapted a technique that worked for him at that age, size, and strength level. His technique was not wrong, although it did not look the same as an adult technique. It was correct for him under those constraints at that age.  

Every technique has some consistencies because the biomechanical constraints are the same for each player; put the ball in the basket 10 feet in the air from various distances on the court. Every player’s technique has some variance because no two players are created exactly the same, and therefore each player solves the problem in different ways. Within an individual, no two repetitions are the same because environmental conditions change from repetition to repetition: The defense, distance to the basket, and movement speed and direction change on each shot. 

Young athletes solve movement problems and organize their movements based on the morphological, environmental, and biomechanical constraints. When this technique varies from the coach’s mental model, the technique is not necessarily wrong. It may be the athlete’s current solution to the problem, which may change with maturity or it could be an individual style that works for a certain player and allows him or her to excel. Before changing a player’s technique to fit an adult’s mental model, acknowledge the brilliance of the body to solve movement problems, and remember that athletes such as Bradman excelled despite nonconventional technique. A child is not an adult, and expecting one to have the same technique as an adult is setting up the child for failure, as with Kevin’s father and his unrealistic expectations. 

Learning like the YouTube Man

Originally published in Free Play: A Decade of Writings on Youth Sports

Athletes from Kenya regularly win Olympic medals. Kenyans are known for distance running, winning events at the 2016 Olympics from the 800m to the marathon. Medaling in the javelin, however, is unexpected, but Julius Yego followed up a 2015 World Championship with a 2016 Olympic silver medal. 

Affectionately known as the “YouTube Man”, Yego learned to throw a javelin by watching YouTube videos. In 5 years, he progressed from a novice to a world champion. Through trial and error and self-discovery learning, he reached the Africa Championships and 2012 Olympics. He was self-taught and did not have a coach because, as he said in an interview, everyone in Kenya is a runner. Once he reached the Olympics, he found a coach who helped him transition from elite to world champion, and his winning throw at the 2015 World Championships was the best throw in the world in over 14 years.

The Internet has changed the manner in which children learn sports skills. When I walked into the office of a sports development club near Jinja, Uganda, considered one of the poorest towns in Africa, the children crowded around a small laptop watching videos of skill development coaches ripped from YouTube. They accessed moves and drills that I never saw as a player developing pre-YouTube. 

The Internet has benefitted not only athletes in Africa who may lack access to specialist coaches, but athletes in the United States. This spring, I met a young woman who earned a basketball scholarship who had learned her post moves by watching YouTube because she was from a small town and lacked access to quality coaches. Similarly, I worked with an NCAA Division II 2-sport athlete who earned All-American honors in the javelin who said that her primary coach was YouTube. 

In his 2007 TED talk, Sugata Mitra, a professor of education technology at Newcastle University, described his “hole in the wall” experiments. He dug a hole in the wall in the slums of New Delhi and put an Internet-enabled computer into the wall and a video recorder to record what happened. Children who had no previous exposure to computers managed to learn to use a computer and teach other children. He demonstrated that children can teach themselves, much as Yego taught himself to throw the javelin. 

This self-discovery learning runs counter to the assumptions of many. Rather than give freedom to children to explore and learn through trial and error, parents are more likely to hire a private coach to instruct their child in the perfect technique. Professional athletes have private coaches, and even the “YouTube Man” needed a coach to become a world champion, so we expedite this process by hiring coaches for children at younger and younger ages. If a personal coach is important for a professional or elite athlete, imagine the benefits for an inexperienced child!

Some may imagine the possibilities for Yego had he been coached earlier in his development. The Guardian wrote about Yego’s winning throw at the 2015 World Championships: “It’s ungainly. Unorthodox. And my goodness it’s worth it, the spear flying way past the 90-meter mark! It’s a throw of 92.72, a season’s best!” A throw that is unorthodox and ungainly probably would have been changed by a coach at an earlier age, but that described the best throw in the world in the last 14 years. Did Yego need a coach at an earlier age to perfect his technique? 

Psychologist Jean Piaget wrote, “Each time one prematurely teaches a child something he could have have discovered himself, that child is kept from inventing it and consequently from understanding it completely.” Maybe Yego won the world championships because of the manner in which he learned to throw the javelin, not in spite of his lack of coaching. 

Similarly, a recent study of adolescent soccer players found that those who improved more between the ages of 11 and 13 accumulated more non-organized soccer play and organized training in other sports, but not more organized soccer practice. In a retrospective study, highly skilled adult volleyball players highlighted the value of their involvement in unstructured activities with older peers and recognized the importance for achievement. 

These results and examples appear counterintuitive to a generation that has transitioned childhood toward structured activities, but when we consider the traits and commonalities of expert performers, the need for self-discovery learning should be understood. 

In a series of papers that studied different avenues of life, University of Pennsylvania psychology professor Angela Duckworth has shown that grit predicts success. Grit was defined as perseverance and passion for long-term goals. How does one develop this perseverance and passion?

Passion for sport and music were linked to feelings of autonomy. Factors as simple as allowing a child to choose when to practice as opposed to a parent forcing the child to practice influenced the feelings of autonomy. Typically, when a child engages in unstructured or non-organized sports or self-discovery learning, the child chooses this activity without external pressure. The child has the autonomy to pursue these activities, and consequently, engaging in these activities may increase the passion that they feel. 

Duckworth divided perseverance into perseverance with the lower case ‘p’, which is working daily to get better at something, and Perseverance with an upper case ‘P’, which is continuing in the face of adversity. Psychologist Christopher Bergland suggested changing one’s mindset to view struggle and perseverance as a path to pleasure. Of course, when a child chooses to play in an unstructured activity, such as pickup soccer, the experience is rewarding and fun, but is also a daily effort to improve. It does not take a lot of effort to persevere when one chooses to engage in the activity, and the activity is inherently fun. 

Training for Perseverance is more difficult because the adversity that one must overcome to become an elite performer often is unexpected, whether a player overcomes being cut from a team, losing a parent at a young age, a single-parent household, a major injury, or other circumstance. There is no preparation for an athlete suffering her first ACL rupture and missing an entire season or for being cut from a team. 

The ability to cope with adversity with autonomy created self-reliant and resilient athletes and separated the experts and super champions from their peers.19 Allowing children the freedom to play and learn through trial and error may be one way to create these adaptive behaviors. When children engage in free play, they solve problems beyond those within the game, as they are the referees, the team-makers, the rule creators, and more. If one faces small doses of adversity frequently in low impact environments, such as unstructured play, one may develop more resiliency for more serious situations. 

For Julius Yego, learning to throw a javelin without a coach likely was difficult. Watching videos provided only so much information, especially for a technical sport and without the benefits of a high-speed camera and/or super-slow motion footage. Many people would give up or never attempt to learn to throw the javelin in those circumstances. Through trial and error, he faced frequent adversity in low-impact situations. Because he had no coach, he problem solved. He devised solutions. He developed his autonomy and resilience. Because he chose the javelin, rather than following everyone else in Kenya into distance running, he was invested personally. He developed passion for the javelin. Ultimately, this combination of passion and perseverance developed his grit, and his grit, his learning, his practice, and his athleticism led him to sufficient success to attract an expert coach who could assist with his development from elite to world champion. 

Yego’s experience contrasts with that of many children who have private coaches and organized lessons and parental expectations that take away their autonomy and prevent the development of passion and resilience. The children become dependent on the lesson time and the coach, and they lack the internal qualities required to develop and sustain success over a period of years. 

Learning from players about their own learning

This is one example of a common theme from coaches and trainers who believe in a certain way to develop players and fundamentals. Hardly anyone would question the statement or the philosophy; of course players need to practice layups, and we have been told repeatedly that “repetition is the mother of all learning.”

At some point, however, should we listen to the children? Is there a chance that the children know better? After all, if the children are bored, are they learning and improving? And, if they are not learning and improving, what is the purpose behind a repetitive drill?

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The picture above is from a presentation on skill development. The paper by Torrents and Balague (2006) found that children learn rapidly, with variety, without many repetitions, and with minimal following of directions.

Compare their descriptions of learning with the tweet. The coach is advocating a lack of variety, a large number of repetitions, and a desire for players to follow directions. Also, it is implied that this learning is not rapid, as one expects that a coach/trainer would not repeat the same thing over and over after it has been mastered.

Who is correct? Do children need to learn to do large number of repetitions of repetitive tasks? Do coaches need to design practices and drills that fit with the way that children learn?

A repetitive layup drill as described is an example of constant block practice: Players practice one version of one skill.

Now, for beginners, constant block practice is recommended because a beginner needs some basic idea of the skill; there are hundreds of ways to throw the ball up and into the basket, but time has shown only a few of these hundreds of potential executions to be reliably effective. Instructions, demonstrations, and constant block practice helps the beginner identify the basic skill executions that are most effective.

However, constant block practice often is not the best practice to promote retention and transfer. Retention is the ability to retain learning from one day to the next, whereas transfer is the ability to perform the learned skill in a different environment; for our concerns, transfer generally means to perform the learned skill in a competitive environment or to take improvements in practice to games.

Random variable practice has been shown to improve retention and transfer. Random variable practice incorporates several skills and different executions of the skill; obviously, this makes the practice more like the environment of a game.

In a game, one does not shoot 20 right-hand layups in a row. Instead, a player shoots a layup, then plays defense, runs the court, passes, dribbles, plays defense again, and then potentially shoots another layup, although it is likely different than the previous layup in some way: angle, defensive pressure, speed, execution (one foot or two foot), etc.

Incidentally, the realities of the game fit more closely with the ways that children learn. Incorporating different skills and different executions of skills increases the variety of movements and decreases the repetitions of specific movements, and makes following specific instructions more difficult.

Therefore, how should we proceed? Is it our job as a coach to teach players to do things that they do not like? Do we need players to embrace tedious, repetitive tasks? Is that imposing an adult mindset or an adult learning model onto children? Is our goal to teach the children to do a skill (layups) or to teach children to accept an adult way of learning (minimize variety, increase repetitions)? Is there a reason children learn new things quickly?

Coaches embrace repetitions. This is how we have taught for years. However, it is not how we have always learned. We used to learn on the playgrounds and playing around with fathers or siblings. We were introduced to sports in playful environments, and when we joined teams, coaches refined those skills. Now, children often are exposed to sports and skills for the first time when they join a team. Does that change how we coach?

Before I joined a team, I could do a layup. I honestly do not remember learning a layup, but I know we started to play basketball on the playground in 2nd grade and could not join a team until 5th grade. I also know that in our practices in 5th or 6th grade, we had to make 20 right-handed layups and 20 left-handed layups in a row as a team.

This was not teaching layups. We could make layups. This was creating a challenge, learning to concentrate, and making layups with a small amount of pressure.

How did I learn to make a layup before joining a team in 5th grade? Probably by watching others, practicing in my front yard, playing at recess and lunch, and more. It was not through drills or by following directions.

Is that the best way? Should we use repetitions to quicken the learning process? Or, do these drills and repetitions actually lengthen the learning process because children do not learn when they lack motivation due to boredom?

Rather than doing things our adult way, when should we learn from the behaviors and motivations of the children?

Play is Learning

Originally published in Hard2Guard Player Development Newsletter, 7.16 and Hard2Guard Player Development Newsletter, Volume 7.

There are two distinct voices within coaching and literature. On one end of the spectrum, there is deliberate practice. On the other end of the spectrum, there is play. On Twitter, professor Dave Collins wrote: “Play on its own is important, but surely so too is learning.” This is a problem. Play is learning; it may not be sufficient to reach an expert performance, and the best learning environments support play and build upon the learning that occurs through play, but there is no denying that learning occurs through play. 

For generations, we learned through play. At TED, evolutionary anthropologist Isabel Behncke Izquierdo said: “Play is not just child’s games…play is foundational for building relationships and fostering tolerance. It’s where we learn to trust and where we learn about the rules of the game. Play increases creativity and resilience, and it’s all about the generation of diversity: diversity of interactions, diversity of behaviors, and diversity of connections. When you watch bonobo play, you are seeing the evolutionary roots of human laughter, dance, and ritual. Play is the glue that binds us together.”

The last few decades have reduced opportunities for play in a rush to promote more serious and structured activities that supposedly promote success. During those same decades, rates of attention deficit disorder and similar disorders (Nyarko et al., 2017), obesity (Cunningham et al., 2014), and depression and other mental illnesses (Olfson et al., 2014) have increased. Correlation does not equal causation, but there is evidence that exercise improves behavior and academic performance in those diagnosed with ADHD (Pontifex et al., 2013), reduces symptoms of depression (Barclay et al., 2014), and fights obesity. 

Play is a significant contributor to a child’s cognitive, physical, emotional, and social development (Blasi et al., 2002). Play is essential for healthy brain development, increases physical activity levels in children, develops social and decision-making skills, and enables exploration and discovery of interests (Ginsburg, 2007). “Play is very much an activity of the mind….Engagement in play involves the mind in an active process as a child investigates, explores, and inquires during play” (Blasi et al., 2002). 

Traditionally, the learning process for almost any skill started with play. I played basketball for years before I was coached. I and my friends developed numerous skills through our recess games. By the time that we had a coach, we could dribble, shoot, pass, make layups, and more. We knew the basic concepts. We had not perfected these skills, and some were better than others, but we had developed a good foundation. More importantly, we were motivated. We tried out for the school team of our own volition, whereas my parents signed me up for soccer when I was young. 

I never played soccer or touched a soccer ball before my first organized practice. Everything I learned about soccer was through an organized practice or drill. I enjoyed soccer, and over the years I improved, but not in the same way that I loved basketball or improved in basketball. After eight years of organized soccer, my skills were rudimentary; the coaching, exposure to the game, lack of individual practice, lack of pickup games, and more influenced the differences between my development in basketball and soccer, but the initial entry into the sports is at least partially responsible for the differences. I started basketball through play and it was natural for me to search for pickup games or to practice on my own; I started soccer in an organized environment with a schedule of practices and games, and it was less evident for me to practice on my own or search for pickup games. My interest and motivation for basketball was greater, and consequently, I improved more, developed better skills, practiced more, and played the game better. 

Development is multifactorial, but the initial activities certainly set up a different path in each sport, and the outcomes were somewhat predictable, at least to someone who values play. For someone who believes that play is frivolous or unimportant, the outcomes are surprising or attributable to other factors, such as total hours of engagement. The greater exposure to basketball is a factor, and likely the greatest factor, but it is influenced by the initial opportunities to play and find my passion for the game on my own. I chose basketball; I never chose soccer or baseball, and despite more years of organized practices and games, my skills in baseball and soccer were never as advanced as they were in basketball. 

Ericsson et al. (1993) wrote that conditions for optimal learning required: (1) Motivation to attend to the task and exert effort to improve performance; (2) the task to take into account the preexisting knowledge of the learners; (3) immediate informative feedback and knowledge of results; and (4) repeatedly performing the same or similar tasks. Deliberate practice, then, is effortful, designed specifically to improve performance, requires immediate feedback, and is repetitive (Ericsson et al., 1993).

To a large degree, the first condition is a prerequisite for the following three, but it is the condition that is ignored most often. Ericsson wrote that one must have passion for the activity before engaging in deliberate practice; this is mentioned rarely when discussing his work, but may be the most important point. When a player lacks motivation, the repetitions, carefully designed practices, and feedback will not amount to much. As an example, when I contemplate a major change to a player’s shooting technique, my first consideration is the player’s motivation; will the player invest the time, effort, and concentration required to stabilize the change? If not, why bother? Essentially, I am asking if the player has the motivation to engage in deliberate practice.

Whereas deliberate practice is essential in a situation such as changing a player’s shooting technique, play includes three of the four conditions of optimal learning, at least within sport (and this is an issue with transferring Ericsson’s work to sports, as his research was on chess and violin, which differ from sports such as basketball). 

In play, there is motivation to continue; in fact, that is a key identifier of play. Play can involve great effort; when I played pickup games, my play was at least as effortful as a typical practice. In a sport such as basketball, there is immediate knowledge of results regardless of a coach’s presence. When I shoot, and I miss the shot, I know this immediately. This is knowledge of results. The only condition that play fails to meet is repetitiveness, as play involves repetition without repetition (Bernstein, 1967). Rather than repeating the same task identically, play involves numerous different attempts at a task; when I was young, and I shot in my front yard, I imagined different situations or playing against different defensive players; when I played pickup games, the different defenders forced new moves or shots. I may have performed 20 or 100 repetitions, but none was the same. 

Deliberate practice must be structured to improve specific aspects of performance. Mastering a specific piece of music for violin differs from playing basketball. Basketball is changing constantly and evolving; it is more like jazz, as David Thorpe titled his new book, than a symphony. Varying the repetitions through play may be more akin to deliberate practice than removing and isolating a skill, which is typically how we view deliberate practice. The pop science-y books have led to increased isolated training and early specialization, but these changes have negative repercussions. Early specialization and repetitive movements have been shown to lead to increased injury in athletes (Read et al., 2016); chess players do not lose a season due to carpal tunnel from moving the chess pieces too often at too young of an age. 

Ericsson and colleagues (1993) addressed play and described the differences between play and his definition of deliberate practice: “In contrast to play, deliberate practice is a highly structured activity, the explicit goal of which is to improve performance. Specific tasks are invented to overcome weaknesses, and performance is carefully monitored to provide cues for ways to improve it further. We claim that deliberate practice requires effort and is not inherently enjoyable (Ericsson et al., 1993). Not all learning occurs in this method. I have trained numerous players who enjoyed working out; in these sessions, the activities were structured, coach-led, specifically designed by a coach, and had a goal of improved performance. Because they enjoyed them, does it fail to meet Ericsson’s definition? Do we have to hate what we do in order to learn? I don’t believe so. 

The voices on the deliberate practice spectrum tend to describe play as frivolous. It may be fun or have social benefits, but it does not improve skill. I hear basketball coaches who say that practices should not be fun. Why not? Basketball is play. That does not mean that one cannot do drills or that fun has to be the most important goal of every second of practice, but why should avoiding fun purposely be a goal at all? 

If play is learning, skill improves through play. In a study of German national team soccer players, the national team players compared to amateurs engaged in more non-organized leisure football in childhood, more other sports in adolescence, later specialization, and more organized football only after age 22 (Hornig et al., 2016). They played more and specialized later. In Australian Rules Football, the total number of hours in invasion-game activities differentiated expert and non-expert decision makers, suggesting that it is the involvement in the activities, not their designated purposes, that differentiated the experts (Berry et al., 2008).

When I was young, I skied. I was not skiing to join a ski team. I skied for fun. It was play. The more often that I skied, the better I became. I challenged myself on harder and harder runs. When I fell, I had immediate knowledge of results that I did something wrong. I initiated the activity; I picked the runs. Despite the inherent fun, a full day of skiing, especially as I got older and went after moguls, was effortful. In a sense, the optimal conditions for learning described by Ericsson were present in my skiing, despite the absence of coaching and performance-related goals. It would be crazy to suggest that I did not learn as I progressed from the bunny slopes to black diamond runs with moguls. 

Deliberate practice is not wrong; drills are not wrong. Practice does not always have to be fun, and the goal is not necessarily to maximize fun. However, learning occurs through play. Fun is not bad. Drills are not the only way to learn. Play is not necessarily easy; play can be effortful. Often, play is more effortful because the enjoyment and inner drive to continue leads to more hours spent on the task.

Rather than looking at the clock every 10 minutes until a workout is finished, one plays until he or she decides it is enough or until the gym closes, which is when I left the gym during my high school years. I showed up just before the games started to get into the first game, and I left when they kicked us out of the gym. Nobody forced me. I played for fun, but I learned as much or more in these Sunday night pickup games against older players as I did in all of my practices and camps combined.

Play is learning, and many of our problems, whether societal or within sports, are due to our increasing dismissal of unstructured play as unimportant or frivolous. 

References

Barclay, T.H., Richards, S., Schoffstall, J., Magnuson, C., McPhee, C., Price, J., Aita, S., Anderson, A., Johnson, D., & Price, J. (2014). A pilot study on the effects of exercise on depression symptoms using levels of neurotransmitters and EEG as markers. European Journal of Psychology and Educational Studies, 1(1), 30-35.

Bernstein, N.A. (1967). The co-ordination and regulation of movements. Pergamon Press; Oxford.

Berry, J., Abernethy, B., & Côté, J. (2008). The contribution of structured activity and deliberate play to the development of expert perceptual and decision-making skill. Journal of Sport and Exercise Psychology, 30(6), 685-708.

Blasi, M., Hurwitz, S.C., & Hurwitz, S.C. (2002). For parents particularly: To be successful — Let them play!. Childhood Education, 79(2), 101-102.

Cunningham, S.A., Kramer, M.R., & Narayan, K.V. (2014). Incidence of childhood obesity in the United States. New England Journal of Medicine, 370(5), 403-411.

Ericsson, K.A., Krampe, R.T., & Tesch-Römer, C. (1993). The role of deliberate practice in the acquisition of expert performance. Psychological review, 100(3), 363-406.

Ginsburg, K.R. (2007). The importance of play in promoting healthy child development and maintaining strong parent-child bonds. Pediatrics, 119(1), 182-191.

Hornig, M., Aust, F., & Güllich, A. (2016). Practice and play in the development of German top-level professional football players. European Journal of Sport Science, 16(1), 96-105.

Nyarko, K.A., Grosse, S.D., Danielson, M.L., Holbrook, J.R., Visser, S.N., & Shapira, S.K. (2017). Treated prevalence of Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder increased from 2009 to 2015 among school-aged children and adolescents in the United States. Journal of Child and Adolescent Psychopharmacology.

Olfson, M., Blanco, C., Wang, S., Laje, G., & Correll, C. U. (2014). National trends in the mental health care of children, adolescents, and adults by office-based physicians. JAMA psychiatry, 71(1), 81-90.

Pontifex, M. B., Saliba, B. J., Raine, L. B., Picchietti, D. L., & Hillman, C. H. (2013). Exercise improves behavioral, neurocognitive, and scholastic performance in children with attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder. The Journal of pediatrics, 162(3), 543-551.

Read, P. J., Oliver, J. L., De Ste Croix, M. B., Myer, G. D., & Lloyd, R. S. (2016). The scientific foundations and associated injury risks of early soccer specialisation. Journal of Sports Sciences, 34(24), 2295-2302.

Two-ball drills, transfer and inspiration

Originally published in Hard2Guard Player Development Newsletter 6.4. Now available in Kindle and paperback. Subscribe to the weekly newsletter here.

After their practice on Monday, two teenagers from our women’s team worked along the baseline on a two-ball drill that I had introduced the previous week. This is my primary purpose for introducing challenging dribbling drills: To inspire players to practice on their own. We do not spend much time on dribbling. My men’s team generally practices dribbling on Thursdays when we have fewer players. With our skill workouts, we usually work on general dribbling in one of the two workouts per week. In the 11-12 hours of practice and workouts each week, we spend roughly 20 minutes on dribbling (of course, other drills, games, and scrimmages incorporate dribbling).  Read more

An important reason to avoid 5v0 practice

Learning is not about efficiency


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Constant coaching disrupts learning

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On-air drills and negative transfer

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The problem with two-ball dribbling drills

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  • Starting A PBDL

    The PBDL emphasizes learning and development. Presently, players and parents have numerous recreation options - leagues based on fun and equal participation, typically for beginners - and numerous competitive opportunities - teams focused on strategy, game preparation and winning. There are few true development leagues - until now.

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