Why Good Coaches Don’t Try to Be Liked
By Coach Dan — Tri-State Training | Mindset. Movement. Memorable.
TThis might sound controversial at first:
Good coaches don’t try to be liked.
But that doesn’t mean they don’t care about being liked. And it definitely doesn’t mean they don’t care about their athletes.
There’s a difference.
Liked vs. Respected
If you are only respected as a coach, athletes will do what you ask.
If you are both respected and liked, they’ll go beyond what you ask.
But if you are only liked and not respected, your impact will eventually stall.
Early in coaching, many people fall into the trap of wanting to be liked first. It feels good. Athletes enjoy being around you. The energy is positive. The room is light.
But when it’s time to push—when it’s time to have a hard conversation, hold a standard, or tell someone something they don’t want to hear—that’s when being liked alone isn’t enough.
Because athletes will only go as far as they’re comfortable going.
And growth isn’t comfortable.
The Trap of Approval
When a coach prioritizes being liked, it often shows up in subtle ways:
Avoiding hard conversations
Programming too conservatively to keep morale high
Not enforcing boundaries
Softening feedback to avoid discomfort
It works for a while. Until it doesn’t.
Because performance eventually demands honesty.
If an athlete isn’t improving, if habits are slipping, if effort isn’t matching goals—someone has to say it. And if you’re protecting your approval rating, you won’t.
A Conversation That Changed Me
I had a coach I both liked and respected. One day, he sat us down and had one of the hardest conversations of my playing career.
He told us why we weren’t good enough.
Harsh. Direct. Uncomfortable.
He broke down exactly why we wouldn’t make the next level if things didn’t change. And in the moment, it felt like an attack.
But it wasn’t.
At the end of the conversation, he said, “I’m not saying this to hurt you. I’m saying this because I need you to see what others are seeing. If you care, I’ll care and help you fix it.”
Because I liked him and respected him, I listened.
That conversation didn’t push me away. It pulled me forward.
That’s the difference.
Respect Without Like Is Fear
I also had a coach I respected deeply—but I didn’t like him at first.
I played for him out of fear.
I didn’t want to mess up. I didn’t want to disappoint him. I respected how he handled the day. I respected his standard. I knew he worked hard. But I didn’t feel like he cared about me.
Until one conversation changed that.
He said something simple: that people around me were proud of what I had accomplished.
It was a small statement. But it showed care.
From that moment on, I still respected him—but now I liked the way he led. The fear softened into trust.
And that’s where performance changed.
Because fear creates compliance.
Care creates commitment.
Good Coaches Don’t Chase Approval
A good coach understands that not every conversation will feel good in the moment.
Sometimes athletes won’t like what you say.
Sometimes they won’t like the standard.
Sometimes they won’t like the decision.
But if the foundation is strong—if the relationship is built on honesty and shared belief—those hard moments don’t break trust. They deepen it.
Trying to be liked all the time weakens that foundation.
Being willing to risk temporary discomfort for long-term growth strengthens it.
Care and Accountability Must Coexist
This isn’t about being harsh.
It’s not about being cold.
It’s not about pride or ego.
It’s about accountability rooted in care.
If an athlete doesn’t respect the direction you’re taking them, you have two options:
Find a better way to communicate it.
Or help them find a better fit.
Sometimes support means sitting down and having a real conversation.
Sometimes support means recognizing that you aren’t the right coach for them.
Both are responsible decisions.
The Balance That Matters
You don’t have to be liked by everyone.
But the athletes you lead should know this:
You care about their growth.
You care about their future.
You care enough to tell them the truth.
You care enough not to water down standards.
Because in the long run, athletes don’t remember whether you protected their feelings every day.
They remember whether you helped them become something more than they were.
And that requires more than being liked.
It requires leadership.
