In Philippians 1:27, we are reminded to “conduct ourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ.” And in Philippians 2:3, Paul calls us to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves.”

These verses have shaped the way I approach coaching, and I want to challenge you with a question: Would your players invite you to their wedding?

Think about it. Do they value your presence enough to want you there on one of the most important days of their lives? The answer to this question reveals whether you are truly Coaching on Mission. It offers unfiltered feedback on your relationship with your players and gives a clear measure of the impact you are having on them—not just on the field, but in their lives.

What does it feel like to be coached by you?

In his book Inside Out Coaching, Joe Ehrmann asks four pivotal questions every coach should reflect on. One of those questions changed my entire coaching philosophy. If you read on, it might help you avoid the same mistakes I made.

Have you ever had a player say something to you that profoundly changed your perspective on coaching?  I did. It hurt, I have and it revealed that I could push players to perform well, work hard, and achieve success, but have no meaningful relationship with them.

I thought I was a developer of players. What I came to understand, however, is that I had been using players—not developing them. I thought that providing well-organized training, offering scholarships, outfitting them with top of the line gear, and taking them on great trips was enough. I believed that being a good example, acting with integrity, and running a quality program made me a good coach. But in the end, my players didn’t know me. They didn’t care how much I knew until they knew how much I cared.

A Turning Point

The shift stemmed from two comments made to me by two separate players

The first player said: “You’re so demanding on the field and require so much from us, but we don’t really know you off the field. We don’t know if you care about us outside of the game.” He added, “I think you need to decide who you want to be as a coach. You can’t be both—hard and ruthless on the field, but then a caring leader off. You need to choose.”

I couldn’t have asked for more valuable feedback.

That conversation launched a journey of soul-searching into my purpose as a coach. At the time, I realized that I wasn’t doing as well as I thought. I was driven by pride—desiring recognition and success. I wanted to be known as a “good coach,” well-respected, but God convicted me with His Word. In Philippians 2, He tells me to do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. I had allowed my pride to shape my coaching—using players as a means to my end, whether that was recognition, victories, or personal achievement.

After a lot of prayer and reflection, I made a deliberate decision to shift my focus. I chose to become a Coach on Mission, one whose purpose was to point others to Jesus rather than chasing wins.  God doesn’t care how “good” of a coach I am; He cares about how much I impact others for His Kingdom.

The True Measure of Success

Two years after that shift, I had an unforgettable moment that confirmed my decision. A graduating player said to me:
“We won a lot when I first started playing for you, but not many of those players would invite you to their wedding or call you for advice. Now, every player here would want you at their wedding and will always call you for advice. To me, Coach, that’s success—and way better than winning a few games.”

This is what it means to be a Coach on Mission. It’s about investing in relationships, pointing others to Christ, and helping players become better people, not just better athletes.

As coaches, we are often driven by wins, distracted by results, and sometimes blinded by pride. I hope my story helps shed light on the things that can cloud our true purpose in coaching on mission: to help others grow as followers of Christ and as people who live for others.