Let Them Play: Shifting from Instruction to Empowerment

This week brought the sad news of Diogo Jota’s passing. While I didn’t know him personally, hearing tributes from those who coached him really struck a chord. They spoke with deep respect about his character, professionalism, and humility. One described him as “a player who made you proud to be his coach.” It made me think more deeply about the bond between players and coaches—the influence we have on each other and how those relationships often go far beyond football. Moments like this remind us how powerful that connection can be.

It’s made me reflect on my own journey as a coach. On the players I’ve worked with. On the ones I’m lucky enough to still coach today.

People outside the game sometimes don’t realise the bond that forms between a coach and a player. It’s not just about drills, tactics, or team talks. It’s about trust. As a coach, you become someone players look to—not just for guidance, but for belief. And if you're doing it right, they feel that you’re with them in every pass, every mistake, and every breakthrough moment.

But recently, I’ve had a moment of realisation. I thought I was guiding players—when in truth, I was often instructing them. Telling them what to do. And while that may feel like coaching on the surface, it doesn’t always help players become thinkers. It doesn't let them grow into the game themselves.

This realisation really hit home during my time in Doncaster while working with FA coach developers as part of my UEFA C Diploma. One coach in particular—we'll call him Pete (not his real name)—made a big impression on me. Although we barely knew each other, I connected with his approach within a matter of hours. I was asking him how to deal with certain situations or how to set things up to combat problems. Instead of telling me what to do, he asked me questions—pushing me to draw on my own experience and knowledge. It was a subtle but powerful shift in perspective.

So I’ve shifted my mindset. My role now is to create a framework—set the challenge, the boundaries, and the objective—and then step back. Let them wrestle with the situation. Let them try, fail, and succeed in their own way. Whether in training or a match, they learn best not by being told what to do, but by figuring out how to do it.

I’ve told the players that there will be a change in approach this coming season, and I’ve already started to take small steps in that direction. The truth is there to see. When I don’t intervene and tell them what to do, they look at me as if to say, "Are you going to tell me what to do now?" That look says it all. It confirms that I haven’t been giving them the freedom they need to be the best they can be. But change is coming—and with it, growth.

The bond I have with each player is different, and I make a point of treating them as individuals. Not every player needs the same thing, and recognising that is what makes the bond special. Some grow technically because of the connection we build, others grow in confidence—and most fall somewhere in between. My hope is that by changing my approach, these relationships will deepen further. Because ultimately, my goal is simple: to help as many kids as possible not just enjoy football, but also value education, develop life skills, and grow as people.

I haven’t fully changed how I coach yet—but I’ve started the process. There are small signs already that it’s the right direction. I can see moments where players pause, think, and attempt to solve things on their own. It’s early days, and there's still a lot to work on, but it's encouraging.

The tributes to Jota reminded me that our job as coaches isn’t just about what we teach—it’s about who we help our players become. If I can help them enjoy the game, grow in confidence, and develop as people, then I’m doing something worthwhile.

Resy Easy, Diogo!