When Helping Stops Helping: Support vs Control in Junior Tennis
The fine line between support and control in junior tennis.
There's something I see all the time as a coach working with junior tennis players and their parents.
A child misses a ball and immediately looks at Mom or Dad.
They lose a point, and before they even turn around for the next one, they're checking the sideline. Was Dad disappointed? Did Mom make a face? What am I supposed to do?
Sometimes a child gets so frustrated after a lost point that they cry. Sometimes something unfair happens during a match, and the parent immediately wants to step in, fix it, protect them, or make sure it never happens again.
I understand the instinct.
You love your child. You invest an enormous amount of time, money and energy into their sport. You drive them to practices and tournaments. You watch them work. Of course you don't want to see them hurt, cheated, embarrassed or discouraged.
But there is a point where helping stops helping.
That line is one of the hardest things for tennis parents to recognize.
Protection vs. Preparation
Competitive tennis is uncomfortable.
Your child is going to lose matches they thought they should win. They're going to get nervous. They're going to play badly. They're going to face opponents they don't like. Someone will make a questionable call. A referee won't see everything. A coach won't always be there to solve the problem.
Sometimes things genuinely aren't fair.
There are situations where an adult should step in. Safety issues, bullying, serious misconduct and inappropriate behavior should never be dismissed as "part of the sport."
But not every uncomfortable moment requires a rescue.
Sometimes the frustration is the lesson.
A player has to learn:
I'm upset. Now what?
I think that ball was in. What can I do?
I'm nervous. Can I still compete?
I'm losing. Can I stay engaged?
I'm angry about the last point. Can I play the next one?
Those are tennis skills too.
When an adult keeps managing those moments for a child, the child gets fewer chances to learn how to manage them alone.
Watch What Happens After the Mistake
The most revealing moment isn't what happens when a child wins. It's what happens right after they make a mistake.
Do they reset and prepare for the next point?
Or do they look toward the fence?
When a player keeps looking at a parent after mistakes, I pay attention. It doesn't automatically mean the parent has done something wrong. But it can mean the child has started connecting their performance with the parent's reaction.
And parents communicate without saying a word:
- The head shake.
- The hands in the air.
- Turning away.
- The disappointed expression.
- The frantic gesture showing what they should have done.
Imagine trying to compete while reading all of that.
Now the child isn't only solving the opponent. They're managing the person watching them too.
Often the most supportive thing a parent can do from the sideline is very boring: stay calm.
Let Them Compete
Parents naturally want to give answers.
But one reason competition is so valuable is that eventually, no answers come from outside the court.
Your child has to solve the problem.
That's why parents need to respect the coaching rules of every event their child plays. If coaching isn't permitted, don't coach from the sideline. And even where it's allowed, constant answers take away something valuable: ownership.
Let them figure some things out.
Let them make the wrong tactical decision and recognize it later.
Let them feel nervous without rushing to take the nerves away.
Let them be frustrated and discover that frustration passes.
Let them lose.
Then help them make sense of what happened.
That's not abandoning them emotionally. You're still there. You're simply letting them do the part that belongs to them.
Be Careful With the Car Ride Home
Adults often underestimate how vulnerable kids feel right after competing.
They already know they double-faulted.
They know they missed the easy forehand.
They know they lost.
They don't need a technical breakdown before you've left the parking lot.
That doesn't mean pretending everything was wonderful. I'm a big believer in accountability. If effort was poor, attitude was inappropriate or something needs to change, there should be a conversation.
But timing and delivery matter.
There's a difference between:
"What happened? You completely stopped moving your feet. We've talked about this."
and:
"I know you're disappointed. We don't have to talk about the match right now. When you're ready, we'll figure out what we can learn from it."
Accountability doesn't require humiliation.
Support doesn't require pretending there's nothing to improve.
Kids need both.
Your Child's Tennis Is Not Your Tennis
This may be the hardest part.
Parents sacrifice a lot for competitive sports. The more you sacrifice, the easier it becomes to feel emotionally invested in the return.
You've spent thousands of dollars. Rearranged weekends. Driven hundreds of miles. Paid for lessons. Sat through practices. Changed family plans.
Of course you care about the outcome.
I understand this from the other side, because I was that child.
When I was young, losing never felt like just losing a tennis match. It felt much bigger. I was scared of the reaction afterward: of disappointing the adults around me, of being yelled at, of feeling ashamed. Eventually, I didn't need anyone next to the court telling me I had failed. I had learned to do that to myself.
I would carry losses for days. I didn't know how to handle the disappointment, learn from the match and move on. Winning, on the other hand, felt like approval. It was proof I was doing something right and, for a long time, proof that I was okay.
Here's the complicated part: that pressure also made me incredibly driven. I worked hard. I became a strong player. I accomplished things in tennis I'm proud of. So I would never say children shouldn't be pushed or that expectations are bad. My own experience isn't that simple.
High-level athletes rarely come from environments where nobody cares about discipline, commitment or results. There are expectations. There are sacrifices. There are moments when a child needs a push.
Every serious sports parent is a little crazy.
What I understand now is that a child can be taught discipline, ambition and accountability without every result feeling like a judgment of who they are.
That's the distinction I wish more adults in junior sports understood.
There's a difference between being deeply invested in your child's development and becoming emotionally dependent on their results.
Your child's win isn't proof that you're a great parent.
Their loss isn't a verdict on everything you've invested.
And their tennis journey doesn't exist to fulfill something you didn't get to accomplish yourself.
It belongs to them.
What I Want Parents to Remember
Your child needs support. They need structure. They need accountability. Sometimes they need a push when quitting would be easier.
And yes, sometimes they need you to advocate for them.
But they also need the chance to become someone who doesn't always need you to.
The goal isn't a childhood where nothing unfair happens, nobody hurts their feelings and they never fail. We couldn't create that world if we tried.
The better goal is a safe foundation from which they can face difficult things and discover they can handle them.
Eventually, your child walks onto the court alone.
They make the call.
Solve the problem.
Handle the nerves.
Deal with the opponent.
Lose the point.
Recover.
And decide they still want to compete.
One of the hardest parts of being a tennis parent is knowing when your child needs you, and when loving them means letting them figure it out.
3 Things to Try at Your Child's Next Match
- Stay neutral after mistakes. Keep your face and body calm, win or lose.
- Follow the coaching rules. If coaching isn't allowed, let them solve it.
- Wait on the match talk. Let them lead, and save the analysis for later.
We're not trying to raise children who never struggle. We're trying to raise children who know what to do when they do.
Michelle Okhremchuk is the founder of MO Tennis Academy in Encinitas and Chula Vista and Head Coach of Southwestern College Women's Tennis.
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