You'll Never Make Everyone Happy. But You Can Make It Fair.

You'll Never Make Everyone Happy. But You Can Make It Fair.

Tryout season is coming. You already know what that means.

The emails will start before evaluations even begin. "Just wanted to make sure you know about my son's travel schedule." "My daughter's been working with a private coach all summer." "I know tryouts are next week, but could someone take a second look?"

Then the decisions go out and round two begins. Appeals dressed up as questions. Comparisons to other kids. Requests for explanations that aren't really requests at all. Parents who were friendly in September become adversarial in October because their child landed on the "wrong" team.

You've been here before. And you'll be here again next year. The question isn't how to avoid conflict entirely. That's not possible when emotions run this high. The question is how to build a process that can absorb the pressure without breaking.

Why This Gets So Heated

Before you can manage placement disputes, you need to understand what's actually happening beneath the surface.

For a lot of parents, team placement feels like a verdict on their child's worth. They know intellectually that a 10-year-old's roster spot doesn't predict anything about their future. But emotionally, it feels like a ranking. My kid is an A-team kid or a B-team kid. Starter material or bench material. Good enough or not quite.

That's a lot of weight to put on a tryout, and parents carry it whether they admit it or not.

The other dynamic is comparison. Parents watch evaluations and form their own opinions. When the official decisions don't match their mental rankings, it creates cognitive dissonance. Either the evaluators got it wrong, or they're missing something about their own child. Most parents find the first explanation easier to accept.

None of this makes parents bad people. It makes them human. They're anxious about their kid, invested in the outcome, and operating with incomplete information. Your job is to give them a process they can trust even when they don't love the result.

Fair Process Beats Perfect Outcome

Here's the shift that changes everything: stop trying to make decisions that everyone agrees with. Start building a process that everyone can respect.

Families can live with disappointment. What they can't live with is feeling like the game was rigged, the criteria were hidden, or the decision was made before tryouts even started.

A fair process has a few key ingredients.

Clarity before evaluations begin. What are you actually looking for? What skills get weighted? How does age or experience factor in? If parents don't know the rubric, they'll invent one and then get angry when your decisions don't match it.

Consistency during evaluations. Are all kids being seen by the same evaluators using the same criteria? Are there safeguards against bias, like multiple sets of eyes or blind scoring? Families don't need to observe every detail, but they need to believe the structure exists.

Transparency after decisions are made. This doesn't mean justifying every roster spot. It means explaining the process clearly enough that families understand how decisions were reached, even if they wish the outcome were different.

When the process is airtight, you can hold the line. When it's murky, every decision invites a challenge.

Communicate the Rubric Before Anyone Asks

Most placement drama stems from a gap between what parents expect and what evaluators prioritize.

Parents often assume tryouts are about identifying the "best" players in some obvious, objective sense. But evaluation criteria vary. Some programs weight coachability and attitude. Some prioritize positional needs. Some factor in attendance history or multi-sport participation. Some emphasize development trajectory over current skill level.

None of these approaches are wrong. But if you don't explain yours, families will assume you're using theirs.

Before tryouts, publish your evaluation criteria in plain language. Not a vague mission statement about "developing well-rounded athletes." Actual specifics. "We evaluate skill execution, effort and attitude, coachability, and game awareness. At younger ages, we weight development potential more heavily than current performance."

This won't eliminate disagreement. But it reframes the conversation. Instead of "why didn't my kid make it," the question becomes "how did my kid measure against the criteria you told us about." That's a much easier conversation to have.

What to Say (and What Not to Say) When Parents Push Back

Even with a transparent process, some parents will want to talk. Here's how to handle those conversations without making things worse.

Lead with the process, not the child. "Here's how we structured evaluations and what we were looking for" is safer ground than "here's what we observed about your son." The first invites understanding. The second invites debate.

Avoid comparisons to other kids. The moment you start explaining why another child made a roster and theirs didn't, you've entered a no-win zone. You're not going to change their mind, and you might say something that creates problems down the road. Keep the focus on their child and the criteria.

Acknowledge the emotion without validating the complaint. "I understand this is disappointing" is not the same as "I see why you think we got it wrong." You can be empathetic without conceding that the process failed.

Know when to stop. Some parents aren't looking for information. They're looking for a different outcome, and no amount of explaining will satisfy them. It's okay to end the conversation. "I've shared how decisions were made, and I'm confident in the process. I'm happy to talk about how your child can develop this season."

The "Second Look" Trap

Every program director knows this request. "Could you just take another look? I really think you missed something."

This feels reasonable. What's the harm in one more evaluation? But granting second looks selectively creates a bigger problem than it solves.

If you re-evaluate one child because a parent pushed hard enough, you've just taught every other parent that persistence pays off. Next year, you'll have twice as many requests. And the families who accepted the original decision gracefully will wonder if they should have made more noise.

The better approach is to build any re-evaluation opportunity into the standard process. "All players are seen by at least two evaluators" or "we hold a follow-up session for borderline cases" gives you flexibility without creating special treatment. If it's part of the system, it's fair. If it's a favor for squeaky wheels, it's not.

Playing Time Is Placement in Slow Motion

Team placement gets the most attention, but playing time disputes follow the same pattern. Parents form expectations, reality doesn't match, and suddenly you're mediating a conflict that has very little to do with the actual minutes their child spent on the field.

The same principles apply. Communicate expectations early. At this level, here's how playing time typically works. Here's what coaches consider. Here's what players can do to earn more opportunity.

When concerns arise, focus on process. "Coach makes decisions based on practice performance, effort, and team needs" is more defensible than "your child isn't ready."

And resist the urge to promise outcomes you can't control. "Everyone will get equal playing time" sounds great until the championship game when it becomes a liability. Be honest about how your program balances development and competition, and let families decide if that's the right fit.

Protecting Yourself and Your Program

Some disputes go beyond frustration. Occasionally, parents escalate in ways that create real risk: public accusations, social media campaigns, or threats of legal action.

Document your process. Keep records of evaluation criteria, who conducted assessments, and how decisions were communicated. If a complaint escalates, you want to be able to show that the process was consistent and defensible.

Don't engage in public debates. If a parent takes their grievance to Facebook or a community forum, resist the urge to defend yourself in the comments. A calm, private response is almost always better than a public back-and-forth.

Know when to involve leadership. If a parent's behavior crosses a line, whether it's harassment, threats, or persistent boundary violations, loop in your board, your organization's leadership, or legal counsel if necessary. You shouldn't have to absorb abuse as part of the job.

The Long Game

You're never going to eliminate placement disputes. As long as tryouts exist and roster spots are limited, some families will be disappointed. That's the nature of competitive sports.

But you can build a program where disappointed families still respect the process. Where the answer to "why didn't my kid make it" is clear enough that most parents can find peace with it. Where your reputation is "tough but fair" rather than "political" or "confusing."

That's the goal. Not perfect outcomes. Fair process, clearly communicated, consistently applied. Everything else flows from there.

 

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.

 

1 of 3