By Rob Ramseyer
(September 30, 2025)
When I was a young coach—probably 25—I had the opportunity to be the head coach of an Athletes in Action summer baseball team in Fairbanks, Alaska. I actually lived just north of Fairbanks in the town of North Pole, Alaska. Great town, nice people, and they totally went for it on the Christmas theme, down to some candy cane wrapped light poles.
At the time, Alaska was considered one of the top collegiate summer leagues in the country. It attracted players from big-name programs across the country. There I was, a small-college assistant, managing guys from some big-time schools—all much better players that I had coached (or had been for that matter) and much cooler looking physically than me. Looking back, it wasn’t one of my better coaching jobs. I didn’t handle it all that well. But that’s not the point of this message.
The general manager of that team—who was also our pitching coach—was the head of AIA Baseball and had played pro-ball. He had some great stories. One day, we were talking about managing egos, especially with big-time players. I’m pretty sure it was he who told me a story that stuck with me. He said that when he was in pro ball—or maybe it was another summer league—there was a hitting coach who refused to coach players until they asked for help. His theory was simple: you can’t coach someone until they want to be coached and they let you coach them.
One time, when an All-American stepped into the batting cage for the first time, this coach wouldn’t engage directly. Instead, he’d watch a few swings, then turn to the coach next to him and say just loud enough for the hitter to hear, “That’s our All-American?”—with a sarcastic tone. Then he’d sit back. His goal wasn’t to belittle (or at least, for the sake of this illustration, we’ll say that). It was to provoke a thought process that made the player think they may not have it figured out.
That story came back to me recently while reading The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins. The premise is simple, but powerful: If people are going to do something you disagree with, let them. Mel Robbins shares a story about her son getting ready for prom. He and his friends wanted to eat at a specific restaurant before the dance. As a parent, she saw all the red flags—no reservation, bad weather, overcrowded spot. She tried to talk him out of it, but that did not work and only caused both frustration
That’s when her daughter said, I assume somewhat exasperatedly, “Just let them, Mom.”
So, she did.
And sure enough, even though the night was chaotic like the mom feared — her son came home smiling. The mess was a positive experience and memory for her son and his friend. And he figured it out. That moment sparked her Let Them Theory — a mindset built on stepping back, letting others own their choices, and trusting them to learn.
And that got me thinking somehow about Chris’s story and coaching. Because “letting them” in sports isn’t as easy. We have teams to run, standards to uphold, and championships to try to win. But still—there’s a truth to it. You can’t coach someone until they let you. You can’t force buy-in. So, for a coach, getting your athletes to “let you” coach them comes down to being able to answer a few questions:
- How do you cultivate an environment where players want to be coached?
- How do you earn the right to speak into their lives – to guide them, give them advice, or challenge them?
- And when they don’t listen, when they resist—how do you let them learn the hard way without ruining the team culture?
These aren’t easy questions. Especially with high-achieving athletes who have been praised and told how great they are for a long time. Sometimes, the best (and maybe only) teacher is failure. This is certainly a fine line to walk. I don’t have a clean answer to this. But it’s something I’ve been chewing on. The best I can come up with is that all we can do is have humility and trust the process.
