Dealing With the Emotional Hangover After Games
The Empowered Coach – Managing Your Own Emotions
Nobody warns you about the emotional hangover of coaching.
The drive home in silence after a game that slipped away.
The late-night spiral: “Why did I call that play?”
The replay loop in your head that starts at midnight and ends sometime around “I’m a terrible coach.”
You coach your athletes on resilience and self-talk. Meanwhile, your inner monologue is running a 24/7 roast.
If that goes unchecked, you start coaching scared:
scared to try new things
scared to trust your instinct
scared to be wrong in public
You’ll call it “being smart.” It’s actually self-protection.
Let’s flip it.
Step one: separate identity from outcome.
You lost? Own it.
“We got outplayed. I could’ve managed the last two minutes better.”
But don’t turn it into:
“I’m trash. I shouldn’t be doing this. These kids deserve someone better.”
You’re a human who made decisions under pressure. Some good, some not. That’s literally what coaching is.
Step two: create a debrief rule.
No more all-night mental autopsies.
Try this system:
Game night: No film. No deep analysis. Eat something, shower, sleep.
Next day: 30–60 minutes max. Watch key moments, take notes on what you’d change, what you learned, and what actually went well.
After that: You’re done re-litigating it in your head.
You’re not “caring more” by obsessing. You’re burning brain cycles you need for the next week.
Step three: have one person who knows you, not just “Coach.”
Spouse, friend, colleague—someone who can say:
“Yeah, that decision was rough. Learn from it.”
or, “You’re making this bigger than it is. Let it go.”
If the only voice evaluating your coaching is your own 2 a.m. brain, the verdict will always be guilty.
Step four: ask better questions.
Instead of:
“Why do I suck at this?”
Ask:
“What’s one coaching moment I want back, and what will I do next time?”
“Where did I handle adversity well?”
“Where did we grow tonight, even in a loss?”
You’re still honest—you’re just not weaponizing honesty against yourself.
Step five: live the message you preach.
You tell your players:
“Your mistakes don’t define you.”
“We grow from failure.”
“Next play.”
If you sulk for three days after a loss, snap at your family, and question your whole career, they notice.
They don’t need a flawless coach.
They need a coach who demonstrates what it looks like to be accountable, disappointed, and still moving forward.
You’re allowed to hurt after a tough game. That’s a sign you care.
Just don’t let every Friday night become a three-day trial in your own head.
Process. Learn. Reset.
Then show up as the version of you that you’d want your players to imitate.
