You sent the email. You know you sent the email. It had the schedule, the location, the start time, everything a family needed to know.
And yet, Saturday morning, your inbox is full. "Where are we supposed to be?" "What time does the game start?" "Nobody told us about this."
You check. The email went out ten days ago. Open rate: 34%. Which means two-thirds of your families either didn't see it, didn't read it, or read it and immediately forgot.
Meanwhile, in the team group chat, someone's mom is asking the same question. Three other parents answer, each with slightly different information. A fourth parent chimes in with a complaint about last week's playing time. Now the chat has 47 unread messages and half of them have nothing to do with the original question.
This is what passes for "communication" in most youth sports programs. Information gets sent. Whether it gets received, understood, and retained is anybody's guess.
The programs that avoid constant "why didn't anyone tell me?" complaints aren't sending more emails. They're building actual systems: clear channels, predictable rhythms, explicit expectations, and guardrails that keep communication functional instead of chaotic.
The Problem Isn't Information. It's Architecture.
Most programs don't have an information problem. They have an architecture problem.
Information exists. It's in emails, app notifications, text threads, website pages, Facebook groups, and verbal announcements at practice. The problem is that it exists in too many places, sent at unpredictable times, with no clear hierarchy of what matters and what doesn't.
Parents are drowning, not thirsting. They're getting hit with messages from multiple directions and can't tell which ones require action and which ones are just noise. So they tune out. They miss things. They rely on word-of-mouth from other parents, which is how rumors start and misinformation spreads.
Then something important falls through the cracks and suddenly you're the bad guy who "never told anyone."
The fix isn't more communication. It's better architecture. One source of truth. Predictable timing. Clear channels for different types of information. And explicit expectations about how communication works in your program.
Declare a Single Source of Truth
The most important decision you can make about communication is this: where should families look first?
Pick one place. Maybe it's your team management app. Maybe it's a section of your website. Maybe it's a weekly email digest. Whatever it is, that's your source of truth. Everything important lives there. Everything else is just a pointer back to it.
When families ask "where do I find the schedule?" the answer should be instant and universal. Not "check your email" or "it might be in the app" or "I think someone posted it in the Facebook group." One place. Every time.
This requires discipline. You have to actually keep that source of truth updated. You have to resist the temptation to share important information only through other channels. You have to train families to look there first.
But once the habit is established, confusion drops dramatically. Families know where to go. Staff know where to post. The "nobody told me" complaints become "I didn't check the place I was supposed to check," which is a different problem entirely.
Assign Channels to Message Types
Not all communication is created equal. Some messages require immediate action. Some are informational. Some are time-sensitive. Some are just nice-to-know.
When all of these flow through the same channel with the same urgency, families can't prioritize. Everything feels equally important, which means nothing feels important.
Assign different channels to different types of messages:
Email works for announcements that aren't time-sensitive, detailed information families will want to reference later, and anything that requires documentation. Registration opens next week. Here's the tournament schedule. Season recap and thank-yous.
App notifications work for schedule updates, game reminders, and real-time changes. Practice cancelled tonight. Field location changed. Game time moved up an hour.
Text messages should be reserved for genuine emergencies and same-day urgent updates. Lightning delay, everyone take cover. Game cancelled, buses are leaving now.
Team chat (if you allow it) works for low-stakes coordination. Who's bringing snacks? Anyone have an extra water bottle? Carpool coordination.
When families know that a text means "stop what you're doing and read this now" while an email means "read this when you have a chance," they can triage appropriately. When everything comes through the same channel with the same tone, nothing gets prioritized.
Set Response Time Expectations
One of the biggest sources of parent frustration is uncertainty about when they'll hear back.
A parent sends an email with a question. They don't hear back in an hour. They send a follow-up. Still nothing by the next day. They start texting other parents. They complain to a board member. They post in the group chat asking if anyone else has had trouble reaching staff.
By the time you respond, two days later, which might be completely reasonable for a volunteer-run organization, they've already built a narrative that you're unresponsive and don't care.
The fix is setting expectations before this happens.
Publish your response time standards. "Emails will receive a response within 48 hours during the season." "Urgent matters should be sent via text to this number." "The director is not available for calls between 6 PM and 9 PM."
Then stick to them. If you promise 48 hours, deliver 48 hours. If you can't respond substantively, at least acknowledge receipt. "Got your message, I'll have an answer for you by Thursday."
Families can handle waiting when they know what to expect. They can't handle uncertainty. Silence feels like being ignored. A defined response window feels like professionalism.
Create a Communication Rhythm
Predictability reduces anxiety. When families know that certain information arrives at certain times, they stop worrying about missing things.
Build a communication rhythm and stick to it:
Weekly email every Sunday night with the upcoming week's schedule, reminders, and any updates. Families learn to check Sunday evening and know they'll have everything they need for the week.
48-hour game reminders through the app with time, location, and arrival expectations.
Monthly newsletter with program-wide updates, upcoming events, and any policy reminders.
End-of-season survey for feedback collection.
The specific rhythm matters less than the consistency. When families can predict when communication is coming, they build habits around receiving it. When communication is sporadic, they're constantly anxious about what they might have missed.
Tame the Team Chat
Team chats are simultaneously the most useful and most dangerous communication tool in youth sports. They enable quick coordination and real-time updates. They also become complaint courts, rumor mills, and sources of endless notifications that train families to ignore everything.
You have two options: kill team chats entirely, or establish clear norms that keep them functional.
If you allow team chats, set explicit rules:
What belongs: Game-day logistics, carpool coordination, snack schedules, quick questions with factual answers, positive celebrations.
What doesn't belong: Complaints about coaches, playing time discussions, referee criticism, anything that would be uncomfortable if the coach saw it, anything requiring a real response from program staff.
Who monitors: Designate a team parent or manager who can redirect off-topic threads and remind people of norms when things drift.
Mute expectations: Make it clear that muting the chat is acceptable and families shouldn't expect everyone to see every message.
Some programs go further and create read-only announcement channels separate from discussion threads. Coaches and staff post updates to the announcement channel. Discussion happens elsewhere, if at all. This ensures important information doesn't get buried in a thread about who's bringing orange slices.
The 24-Hour Rule for Concerns
Emotional conversations don't belong in writing. They don't belong immediately after games. They don't belong in group settings.
Establish a 24-hour rule for concerns: if a parent has an issue with coaching, playing time, or how something was handled, they wait 24 hours before raising it. Then they contact the coach directly, through email, to schedule a conversation.
This accomplishes several things:
The cooling-off period prevents messages sent in the heat of frustration. A lot of complaints evaporate overnight when emotions settle.
Email creates documentation and gives the coach time to prepare a thoughtful response.
Scheduling a conversation ensures both parties are ready to talk, rather than ambushing someone in the parking lot.
Make this policy explicit and visible. Put it in your parent handbook. Have coaches mention it at the parent meeting. Enforce it when someone violates it by gently redirecting: "I can see this is frustrating. Let's schedule a time to talk about it tomorrow when we've both had a chance to think it through."
Consider a Formal E-Communication Policy
For programs that have experienced real problems with parent communication, social media drama, or group chat toxicity, a formal e-communication policy is worth considering.
This goes beyond informal norms into documented expectations that families agree to as part of registration:
Social media guidelines. No posting photos of other people's children without permission. No negative comments about coaches, officials, or other families. No sharing internal program information publicly.
Group chat expectations. Program-sponsored chats are for logistics only. Concerns about coaches or program decisions should go through official channels.
Consequences for violations. Families who violate communication policies may receive warnings, lose access to group chats, or in serious cases, face removal from the program.
This feels heavy-handed until you've dealt with a parent who screenshots private coach communications and posts them to Facebook, or a group chat that becomes a coordinated campaign against a volunteer coach. Once you've seen what happens when communication norms don't exist, putting them in writing seems like obvious prevention.
What Families Actually Need
Strip away all the channels and policies and rhythms, and families need three things from communication:
To know where to look. One source of truth they can always count on.
To know what to expect. Predictable timing, clear response windows, defined processes for concerns.
To feel like someone's paying attention. Acknowledgment that their messages were received, their concerns are heard, and they matter to the program.
When these needs are met, "why didn't anyone tell me?" becomes rare. When they're not met, no amount of emails will fix the problem.
Building the System
Communication architecture isn't glamorous. It's not the reason anyone gets into youth sports administration. But it's the difference between programs that run smoothly and programs that spend half their time putting out fires that started with a missed message.
Start with one source of truth. Assign channels to message types. Set response expectations and stick to them. Build a predictable rhythm. Tame or eliminate team chats. Create policies before you need them.
The families who feel informed and respected are the families who come back. The families who feel confused and ignored are the families who leave, often after causing significant drama on the way out.
Communication isn't what you send. It's what families receive, understand, and trust. Build a system that delivers all three.
Ian Goldberg is the CEO of Signature Media and the Editor of the largest and fastest growing sports parenting newsletter. He’s been recognized as an industry expert by the National Alliance for Youth Sports, the US Olympic Committee’s Truesport, and the Aspen Institute's Project Play. Ian is also a suburban NJ sports dad of two teenage daughters and has over 2,000 hours of volunteer time coaching them (which he calls the most fun form of R&D for his newsletter content). Ian and his team provide players, coaches, parents and program directors with the articles and content they need to have a great sports season. Ian has spent most of his career in digital product development and marketing and got his start at the White House where he worked for the economic advisors to two US Presidents.
