In an effort to invest more in the boys, I took on the idea of coaching rec league baseball. I managed two seasons and assisted on others. I took the job quite seriously (which I’ve written about recently).
There’s a moment after the games where you huddle up with the team and do your little post-game speech. Parents hover at a distance to act like they can’t hear but they are listening. I remember another coach friend of mine, Dave, who would hold the pow-wow in the outfield, far away from the parents.
“Hey, Dave, why do you do it that way?”
“Parents don’t need to hear what I say. The kids will tell them anyways. Not a secret but a team conversation.”
Made sense. So when I managed my second season—now a pro—I would run with the team into the outfield for the post-game moment. It was fun to watch Bennett—one of the fastest kids on the team—use it as an opportunity to see how far he could slide. You play like you practice.
Little League Accountability
Quickly in the season, that moment became what we called “shout-outs and own-ups.”
Shout-outs: Talk about something good one of your teammates did this game.
Own-ups: Talk about a way you know you could’ve improved.
I wanted a time that wasn’t built on me having to fill the team moment with platitudes like “You guys have what it takes.”
What surprised me was how quickly it took. These kids were about ten at the time and they took to the opportunity to do both.
Shout-Outs (in kid terms, without significant specificity):
Jake came in and pitched great.
Brayden had a good hit.
Mac was funny.
It was great to see how quickly the boys volunteered support to one another and highlighted the contributions of their teammates.
Own-Ups were my favorite, though.
I let my attitude get the best of me.
I missed an easy throw that I should’ve made.
I didn’t hustle on that hit.
I got in my head during my at-bats.
I was proud of the kids for how easily it came to them with a simple structure for how to engage, encourage, and take accountability.
Structuring for Accountability
What was I going for? There’s a proverb that says, “Let another praise you and not your own mouth.” So I wanted to create a space where others could be encouraged and lifted up. I had a buddy at school who would say, “I do not think anyone can be overly-encouraged.” It might be uncomfortable to hear (especially if we aren’t used to it), but it isn’t rejected. Encouragement is like oxygen—and most of us are deprived.
I also want people to have enough humility to realize there is always room to grow. So the “own-up” produces a space where people are expected to name areas where they know they need to improve.
And here’s the truth: you don’t have to be ten or eleven to do it.
I’ve run this with 30- and 40-year-olds—same words, same structure, same result.
I think my favorite moment to watch—regardless of team—is how surprised people become with how their teammates view them. What I’ve seen on teams—in work, in marriages—is that they operate at an encouragement deficit.
So when the team starts to praise one another (even if they have real trust issues to deal with), it becomes an antidote for the cynicism that creeps in.
I sat in a room and watched someone begin to tear up as she realized the value the team saw in her. There’s a significant difference between “I think I do good work” and hearing people say, “You do good work.” You might believe you’re a good communicator. But hearing someone else say it? That lands differently.
Similarly, when a leader says, “I’m failing you guys by not giving enough attention to supporting you,” the team doesn’t get mad—they get helpful.
That’s the permission we’ve been waiting for—a place where praise remains constant and failures don’t bring retaliation.
Whether it is your workplace, your marriage and family, your friendships, or your 12u baseball team—we all need it.
What do you need contribute more of—shouting out or owning up?