You Don't Need Their Permission.

rYOU DON'T NEED THEIR PERMISSION.

An open letter to young baseball players, parents, and anyone who thinks they own a kid's future.

Nobody owns your baseball future.

Not your coach.  

Not your academy.  

Not your summer team.  

Not the guy who knows a guy who supposedly knows every college coach in America.

And not some adult who has convinced a 16-year-old that leaving his organization will cost him college baseball.

I've heard enough of this.

Especially in Western Canada.

Kids barely 14 are already being taught their future depends on the right program, the right instructor, the right uniform, the right relationships. By 17 they are afraid to leave a team. Afraid to switch instructors. Afraid to offend the man who claims the connections. Afraid an adult might make a phone call and end their chances.

A teenager trying to get better at baseball is worried about a grown man's ego.

That is not coaching.  

That is control.  

And it is pathetic.

1. The baseball world does not revolve around Western Canada.

I have played professionally. Coached. Scouted. Spoken with college coaches across the United States.

Most of them have no idea who your local team is. They do not track your standings. They do not care about the politics between organizations in British Columbia or Alberta. They are looking for players who can help them win.

A coach in Texas is not sitting at his desk checking whether a 17-year-old from Victoria stayed loyal to his summer club. He wants ability. Not allegiance to someone else's small kingdom.

2. There is no single gate.

Hundreds of college programs exist across NCAA Division I, II and III. Add junior colleges, NAIA, California community colleges, the NWAC, prep schools, post-grad programs and summer leagues. The numbers are large. The pathways are many. The competitive levels vary.

None of that matters if the claim is that one organization in Western Canada controls access.

That claim is a sales tactic.  

It is not how recruiting works.

You can contact coaches. Send video. Attend camps. Build a profile. Transfer. Take another year where the rules allow. There are no guarantees. There never were. But the idea that your only reasonable route runs through one local program is nonsense.

3. Your ability travels. The jersey does not.

If you throw 92, you throw 92. If you can field, bang, or control the zone, those skills are yours. They do not vanish because someone is angry you left.

The opposite is also true. A recognizable uniform will not turn an unprepared player into a college prospect. An introduction gets someone to watch. It does not fix a breaking ball. A showcase puts you in front of coaches. It does not improve your strength or your command.

Exposure without ability is an expensive way to show people what you cannot do. Sometimes the next step is not another event. It is six months in the weight room and better sleep.

4. Youth baseball is a business. Stop pretending it is not.

Good coaching has value. Facilities cost money. People who know their craft should be paid. I charge for my own work.

There is a difference between selling a service and selling fear.

There is a difference between explaining what your program does and telling a family their son's future will suffer if they leave.

Parents: are you paying because your son is improving, or because you are afraid of what happens if you stop?

If he is developing and receiving real instruction, keep going.  

If he is stagnant, intimidated, or afraid to leave because someone implied his recruiting depends on staying, ask what you are actually buying.

Development or permission.

Young athletes should not become financial hostages.

5. Knowing people is not credibility.

Plenty of people have phone numbers. Plenty of people played with someone twenty years ago. Having a contact is not a recruiting strategy. Knowing a coach does not mean that coach trusts your evaluation.

The credible people rarely advertise their relationships. They evaluate honestly. They do not exaggerate players. When they call, their word means something because they have protected it.

Real influence is measured by whether people believe what you say.  

Everything else is marketing.

6. The threat of being blacklisted is a disgrace.

Players and families worry that leaving will produce a negative phone call. That a coach will stop helping. That doors will close.

If an adult is threatening to interfere with a teenager's future because the teenager wants to move on, call it what it is.

A grown man using perceived influence against a kid is not demonstrating power. He is demonstrating a lack of character.

The same people who preach accountability and toughness cannot regulate their own emotions when a 17-year-old makes an independent decision.

A grown man's wounded pride should never become a child's recruiting problem.

7. Parents, stop confusing association with achievement.

A program that has sent players to college does not automatically explain your son's development. Some of those players arrived talented. Some would have been recruited anyway. Some paid significant money and received little in return.

Correlation is not causation.

Ask whether your son is improving. Whether his tools are changing. Whether he understands his weaknesses. Whether he is mentally healthier. Whether he is learning independence.

Those answers matter more than the names on the wall.

8. The best coaches do not need permanent loyalty.

Some coaches teach, challenge, and go home. They make a call and do not announce it. They can say someone else might be better suited for the next stage. They can shake a player's hand when he leaves.

That is security.  

That is an adult who understands his place in someone else's life.

A coach who needs the player to stay dependent has misunderstood the job. Development should produce independence.

9. Speak for yourselves.

At 17 or 18 you should be able to email a coach, present your numbers, discuss academics, and evaluate whether a program fits. You should know your own recruiting information.

Accept help. Use good coaches. Take introductions.  

Do not confuse support with needing someone else to run your life.

If a coach insists every conversation and every opportunity must pass through him, the reason is simple. He wants control. The purpose of mentoring a young person is to make yourself less necessary, not more powerful.

10. You are allowed to leave.

You can change teams. Change instructors. Seek another opinion. Decide a program is no longer right. Disagree with your coach. Leave an environment where you have stopped developing.

Honour your commitments. Meet legitimate obligations. Do not create unnecessary conflict. Thank people who helped you. Then move.

Gratitude is not a lifetime contract.

Someone helping you at 14 does not own your decisions at 18. Leaving does not make you ungrateful. Sometimes you outgrow the place. Sometimes you need a different voice. Sometimes the person you respected is not who you thought.

You do not need permission.

11. Stop letting other people's insecurity set your ambition.

A young athlete taught to fear disappointing authority learns to seek approval instead of judgment. He becomes afraid to ask questions, afraid to leave, afraid to decide. He starts believing his opportunities exist because someone more important permitted them.

That is a terrible lesson.

You cannot preach leadership and demand unquestioning loyalty. You cannot preach confidence and manufacture fear. If your authority collapses the moment someone stops obeying, you never had leadership. You had compliance.

12. Become good enough that the conversation changes.

Nobody owes you a roster spot. Hard work alone does not guarantee results. You have to show ability. Compete. Handle academics. Communicate. Accept hard feedback. Take responsibility for your development.

The baseball world evaluates what you can demonstrate.  

Not the logo on your hat.  

Not who knows your coach.  

Not how expensive your schedule was.

Your work does not entitle you to opportunity. It prepares you to earn one.

To anyone who has made a young athlete believe that leaving your organization will destroy his future:

Who exactly do you think you are?

You are a coach. An instructor. A program director. Maybe a good one.

You are not the owner of another person's ambition.  

You are not the gatekeeper of college baseball.  

You are not entitled to permanent loyalty.

If you care about developing players, prove it through the work.  

If you have connections, use them without threats.  

If a player leaves, have enough character to shake his hand.

The measure of a coach is not how many players he keeps under his influence.  

It is how many he helps become capable of succeeding without him.

You do not own the player.  

You do not own the opportunity.  

You do not own the future.

If someone is threatening to close doors because a young athlete wants to leave, they were never the right person to open them.

Nobody owns your baseball future.  

You do not need their permission.

Curtis Pelletier  Performance Psychology Coach 

TransferEQ | Mindset U