How I Got Into Coaching (Hint: It Wasn’t Planned)

If you told me 15 years ago I’d be spending my evenings on a lacrosse field shouting “Move your feet!” and “Heads up!” to a bunch of teenagers, I’d probably have laughed. I didn’t play lacrosse in high school. Back then, it wasn’t even on the radar for most Florida kids.

But life has a funny way of pulling you into things you never expected—and making them a core part of who you are.

It started when I helped out with a middle school team in Gainesville. Just a volunteer gig, nothing formal. Before long, I was coaching JV at Gainesville High, then heading up Buchholz High’s JV squad, and now, I’m the varsity head coach at Eastside High School.

Every step has been a gift. Not because I love the game (though I do), but because I’ve seen firsthand how coaching builds more than athletes—it builds people.

More Than a Game: Why Lacrosse Matters

Lacrosse is fast, physical, and strategic. It blends the endurance of soccer, the contact of football, and the finesse of basketball. But more than any of that, it’s a teacher.

And for a lot of these kids—especially in schools where sports programs don’t get a ton of resources—lacrosse becomes a lifeline.

I’ve coached kids who’ve never played an organized sport before. Some come from homes where money is tight, or there isn’t a lot of structure. Others just haven’t found “their thing” yet. But when they pick up a stick, something clicks. They start showing up early. They stay late. They learn to commit.

Suddenly, they’re part of something bigger than themselves.

Character on the Field

One of the first things I tell my players is this: Talent will get you on the field, but character keeps you there.

High school is a wild time for any teenager—full of stress, self-doubt, and pressure to fit in. Sports provide an anchor. They give structure, accountability, and a clear set of expectations.

• Be on time.
  
• Respect your teammates.
  
• Own your mistakes.
  
• Push through discomfort.
  

These lessons don’t stay on the field. They bleed into school, work, relationships—every corner of life.

I’ve watched a quiet freshman become a team captain by senior year. I’ve seen kids raise their grades just so they wouldn’t get benched. I’ve had players tell me, years later, that the discipline they learned on our muddy practice field helped them get through college or basic training.

Confidence Is Earned, Not Given

There’s nothing like watching a kid who was unsure of himself suddenly score his first goal—or make a big defensive stop—and then light up like a Christmas tree.

But it’s not just about the big plays. It’s the daily grind that really builds confidence: showing up when it’s cold, running laps when your legs ache, learning to bounce back after a tough loss.

In underserved programs, confidence can be especially hard to come by. Some of these kids have been told—explicitly or not—that they’re not cut out for greatness. Coaching gives us the chance to rewrite that story.

When you believe in a kid before they believe in themselves, and then they start to rise? There’s nothing like it.

A Team Is a Family

Some of the boys I coach don’t have much support at home. Some are dealing with tough stuff—divorced parents, working late shifts, or worse. So the team becomes a second family.

We celebrate birthdays, give rides when someone needs one, bring extra gear, or just check in when a kid’s having a rough day.

That kind of support doesn’t just come from me—it comes from the other players. We create a culture where everyone has value. No matter your background, skill level, or zip code—you belong here. You matter.

That sense of belonging? That’s what keeps kids coming back. That’s what helps them grow into leaders.

Coaching in Gainesville: The Local Challenge

Eastside High, where I coach now, doesn’t have the biggest budget or the fanciest gear. We work with what we have—and make it count.

We’re also working to make lacrosse more accessible. Through my nonprofit, GALAXI (Gainesville Area Lacrosse Inc.), we’re trying to grow the game locally and introduce it to more kids, especially those who might never have picked up a stick otherwise.

It’s not easy. But it’s worth it.

Because for every game we win, there’s a kid who’s winning something more important: a sense of purpose.

Why I Keep Showing Up

Coaching takes time. It takes patience. It takes being willing to have tough conversations, to challenge players when they want to quit, and to stand in the pouring rain running drills after a hard loss.

But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Every season, I see new growth. Not just in stats or skills—but in mindset. In heart. In character.

And when a former player comes back to shake my hand, tell me about college or a job or how they’re now coaching kids themselves?

That’s the real win.