What We Say Matters: Why Coaching Language Is One of Our Most Powerful Tools

 Over the years, I’ve worn a lot of hats in this game - player, coach, evaluator, scout. I’ve seen locker rooms explode with energy from the right words… and I’ve seen good players freeze up because of the wrong ones. What we say matters.

As coaches, our language sets the tone for everything that follows - the culture, the pace, the belief systems of the players in front of us. And I’ve come to believe that how we speak to players (and to each other) can either raise the ceiling of what we’re capable of… or quietly lower it without us even noticing.

The Coaching Habit: “Don’t”

We’ve all done it. Game’s fast. Mistake happens. You lean over the bench and say:

• “Don’t turn it over.”

• “Don’t cheat.”

• “Don’t panic.”

You’re trying to help. Trying to steer the group back on track. But the problem with reactive language like that is it leaves the player thinking about the error - not the solution. And the more they hear “don’t,” the more they hesitate. The more they overthink. The more they wonder if the next play will be wrong too.

That’s not teaching. That’s survival.

And we’re not here to survive.

As Tony D’Amato said in Any Given Sunday:

"Life’s this game of inches… and the margin for error is so small. One half step too late or too early, and you don’t quite make it. One half second too slow or too fast, and you don’t quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us.”

Our words are those inches. And if we stack enough of them in the right direction, we start moving forward together.

What If We Flipped It?

I started looking at how I gave cues. Not just what I meant, but how it landed. And when I started flipping my phrasing - even slightly - I saw a difference.

• “Don’t panic” became “Play like we practice.”

• “Don’t float” became “Win a race.”

• “Don’t pass through the middle” became “Make a good decision.”

Now they’re hearing direction. A target. A plan. Not just a warning to avoid messing up.

The result? More decisive play. More trust. More growth.

A Cue That Stuck: Good Decisions, Good Outcomes

One of the best phrases we’ve started to lean into is simple:

Good decisions, good outcomes.

It’s not flashy - but it’s sticky. It teaches players that if they focus on making the right read based on what’s in front of them, they can live with the result.

It’s not about being perfect. It’s about staying composed, processing the moment, and making a play they can support. And if the outcome isn’t perfect? Good. They learn. They adjust. They grow.

That’s hockey sense in action.

And this message extends far beyond the bench.

Think About How You Learn

If we’re trying to help players perform under pressure, we need to ask: how do you learn or perform at your best?

If someone told you right before an exam or job interview, “Don’t choke,” how would that sit? You’d probably walk in with doubt already hanging over your head.

Imagine standing at the base of a rock wall, getting ready to climb. Someone shouts up, “Don’t fall!” That’s not helpful - that’s haunting. It’s fear-based language. It sticks to your thoughts. And it turns your attention toward failure, not focus.

Even in high-risk professions, language matters. No one sends a firefighter or soldier into the field saying, “Don’t die.” They say, “Come home safe.” Same goal - different impact.

Hockey is a high-speed, high-pressure game. The space between your ears needs to operate with clarity and confidence. Any phrase that plants hesitation or doubt is a time bomb waiting to go off.

Use your words like tools. Not traps.

A Note to Parents: Language After the Game Matters Too

We see it all the time: the post-game car ride turns into a debrief. Or a critique. Or worse - a second round of pressure.

• "Why did you do that?"

• "You need to stop turning the puck over."

• "You can't keep getting your shot blocked."

The intention is support. But what it sounds like is disappointment.

You think they don’t already know they made a mistake? You think they wouldn’t change it if they could? You think the coach didn’t already speak to them about it?

Whipping a dead horse doesn’t teach anything. And it sure doesn’t build belief.

What helps? Intentional language that guides growth. My dad used to have me write down three simple statements before games. We called them "I will" statements. He’d evaluate me based on those - not just the scoresheet.

Examples:

• "I will compete every shift."

• "I will make clean breakout passes."

• "I will get pucks below the goal line."

• "I will use fakes to create shot lanes."

Then post-game, he’d ask: “Did you stick to your intentions?” That framed the conversation in growth, not guilt. It helped me self-evaluate without shame. And it built habits I still believe in today.

Language Builds Culture

It’s easy to think language only impacts players. But I believe it goes further. It affects how we communicate as a staff. How we handle pressure. How we set standards behind closed doors.

If we want players who are accountable, composed, and confident, our language better reflect those same values. We can’t ask them to be calm and purposeful when we’re frantic and reactive. We can’t ask them to support each other if we’re chirping or undercutting each other as a staff.

How we speak is how we lead.

Herb Brooks, as portrayed by Kurt Russell in Miracle, gave one of the greatest pre-game speeches ever captured on film. And buried in all that intensity is one chilling line:

“You were born to be hockey players. Every one of you. And you were meant to be here. This moment is yours.”

That kind of language sticks. It doesn’t warn players what not to do. It reminds them who they are - and what they’re capable of.

We don’t need movie scripts to coach. But we do need to understand the power of belief, clarity, and ownership in what we say.

Where We Go From Here

You don’t need to change every phrase overnight. Just start with one. Rework a cue. Clean up a moment of frustration. Get intentional with your words.

And if that doesn’t fire you up, maybe take it from Shane Falco - QB of the Washington Sentinels in The Replacements, a film that’s equal parts ridiculous and spot on:

“Pain heals. Chicks dig scars. Glory lasts forever.”

It’s funny, but it’s true: players remember what they feel. They remember the tone. The belief. The challenge.

Let’s be coaches - and parents - who give them something worth carrying into the next shift. 🏒

About the Author: Darrell has second-guessed himself more times than he’d care to admit. What’s helped? The acronym K.I.S.S. - Keep It Simple, Smart. That philosophy has shaped how he coaches, communicates, and continues to evolve. In a game that moves at 15 - 25 mph, the pursuit of clarity and simplicity never stops. How do we turn five words into three? And more importantly - which three words matter most? Because the quicker we think - the quicker we play. For starters: stop saying "don't." Unless it’s to remind yourself - don’t say "don’t."