Some of the best leadership lessons in my life did not happen in a conference room, on a watch floor, or during a formal training event.

A Different Kind of Leadership Lesson

Some of them happened under the lights on a flag football field at Camp Humphreys, South Korea.

In 2024, I had the privilege of coaching a youth flag football team at Humphreys. We went undefeated that season, and I am proud of that. Any coach would be. The kids worked hard. They competed. They trusted each other. They found ways to win when the game got tight and the pressure started to show.

But when I think back on that season, the record is not what stays with me most.

The Huddles That Stayed With Me

I think about the huddles, those small circles where a group of kids learned how to quiet the noise around them and listen for what came next. I think about the nervous player who started the season unsure of himself, then slowly began to stand taller after each practice. I think about the kids who learned how to encourage each other instead of looking for someone to blame. I think about the first clean route, the first pulled flag, the first catch, the first time a player understood not just where to be, but why being there mattered.

That is the part of coaching I love most.

Winning is fun. I will never pretend otherwise. Competition teaches focus, discipline, and effort. It gives young players a reason to pay attention to the details and a reason to keep showing up when they are tired, frustrated, or unsure. There is joy in the scoreboard going your way, especially when the work behind it was real.

But coaching cannot only be about the final score. If it is, you miss the best parts.

Growth Is the Real Scoreboard

For me, coaching is about helping kids see something in themselves before they can fully see it on their own. It is about creating an environment where they can make mistakes without feeling like the mistake defines them. It is about correcting them with care, pushing them with purpose, and giving them enough belief to borrow until they can build their own.

That season at Camp Humphreys, every player grew. Some grew in skill. They became sharper route runners, stronger defenders, better teammates, and more confident decision-makers. Some grew in voice. They learned to ask questions, call for the ball, lead a drill, or speak up in a huddle. Some grew in ways that were quieter but just as important. They learned how to handle pressure, how to come back after a bad play, and how to celebrate someone else’s success as if it were their own.

That kind of growth is the real scoreboard.

Military communities understand transition better than most. Assignments change. Families move. Friendships form quickly because they have to, and sometimes people say goodbye just as quickly. At Camp Humphreys, that reality was always close. Everybody knew time together was not guaranteed.

Coaching gave me a chance to slow all of that down.

Being Present for Young Athletes

For a few hours each week, the mission was simple: show up, teach, encourage, and pour into the kids in front of me. The field became a place where the day could narrow down to something honest. A whistle. A route. A laugh. A correction. A hand on a shoulder. A reminder to try again.

There is something powerful about being present for young athletes. They notice who believes in them. They notice who corrects them without tearing them down. They notice who remembers their name, their effort, their progress, and the thing they have been working on all season. They notice consistency. And when they feel safe enough to try, they start becoming more than they thought they could be.

I have always loved coaching because it brings together so much of what I care about: leadership, service, mentorship, family, and community. You get to teach the game, yes. But if you are paying attention, you also get to teach effort, accountability, resilience, humility, and trust. You get to show kids that being part of a team means more than sharing a jersey. It means learning how to carry each other.

And sometimes, without realizing it, the players teach you too.

What the Players Gave Back

They remind you that joy can be loud, simple, and honest. They remind you that confidence is built slowly, one rep at a time. They remind you that a team becomes special when every player feels valued, not just the ones who score. They remind you that growth does not always arrive with a dramatic moment. Sometimes it looks like one child taking one brave step forward, and then another, until the person standing in front of you at the end of the season is not quite the same as the one who showed up at the beginning.

I hope those kids remember going undefeated. They earned that memory, and they should be proud of it.

But more than that, I hope they remember how it felt to improve. I hope they remember being part of a team where their effort mattered. I hope they remember that confidence is not magic. It is built one rep, one mistake, one correction, one good play, and one act of courage at a time.

I hope they remember that someone believed in them.

Because that is what coaching is to me.

Final Takeaway

It is not just drawing up plays or chasing wins. It is helping young people grow into stronger versions of themselves, then receiving the gift of watching that growth happen up close.

That 2024 season at Camp Humphreys will always mean a lot to me.

We finished undefeated.

But the best part was watching every player walk away better than when they started.