It's 7 AM on a Saturday. Game day. Your kid is sitting at the kitchen table, staring at a bowl of cereal they haven't touched. They say their stomach hurts. They're quieter than usual. They don't want to talk about the game. They might not even want to go.
This isn't about the cereal. This is performance anxiety. And it's way more common than most parents realize.
Somewhere around 30% of young athletes experience competitive anxiety significant enough to affect their performance. But the number who feel some version of pre-game nerves? That's basically everyone. The difference is that some kids have learned how to move through it, and others haven't. That's where you come in.
First, Let's Talk About What Not to Do
Before we get to the routine that works, let's clear out the stuff that doesn't.
"There's nothing to be nervous about." Your kid's brain is telling them the opposite, so this just makes them feel like something is wrong with them for being anxious in the first place.
"Just relax." If they could just relax, they would have already. This is like telling someone with a headache to just stop having one.
"You're going to do great!" This one is tricky because it comes from a good place. But for an anxious kid, it actually raises the stakes. Now they're not just worried about the game. They're worried about disappointing the person who told them they'd be great.
The instinct to fix the anxiety is strong. But the most effective thing you can do isn't to make the anxiety disappear. It's to help your kid move through it. Those are two very different things.
The Pre-Game Reset: A Routine You Can Start This Weekend
This isn't sports psychology jargon. It's a simple, repeatable sequence that gives your kid something to do with their anxiety instead of just sitting in it. You can walk them through it the first few times until it becomes their own.
Step 1: Name it out loud.
Anxiety gets louder in silence. The moment your kid can say "I'm nervous about today" or even just "my stomach feels weird," the anxiety loses some of its grip. Your job is to make that safe. Try: "Game day. How's your body feeling this morning?" Not "are you nervous?" because that can feel like an accusation. "How's your body feeling?" gives them a low-pressure way in.
If they say they're nervous, that's your cue to normalize it. Something like: "That makes sense. Big games do that. Let's get you ready." No fanfare. No big speech. Just acknowledgment and forward motion.
Step 2: Move before you have to perform.
An anxious body is full of adrenaline with nowhere to go. Sitting in the car for 30 minutes on the way to the game lets that energy build until it becomes overwhelming.
Get them moving before the game in a low-stakes way. A walk around the block. Juggling a ball in the yard. A few stretches in the living room. Even jumping jacks. It doesn't need to be a warmup. It just needs to burn off some of the physical tension so their body doesn't feel like a shaken soda can when they step on the field.
Step 3: Shrink the focus.
Anxious kids are thinking about everything at once. The whole game. Every possible mistake. What the coach will say. What their teammates will think. The scoreboard.
Help them zoom in on one thing. One job. "What's the first thing you're going to do when you get on the field?" Maybe it's winning their first 50/50 ball. Maybe it's making their first pass a good one. Maybe it's just getting through warmups with their team. One small, controllable thing replaces the massive, uncontrollable everything.
This isn't about ignoring the big picture. It's about giving their brain a manageable starting point instead of letting it spiral through worst-case scenarios.
Step 4: Protect the car ride.
The drive to the game is where parents accidentally make anxiety worse. Pep talks, strategy reminders, "just have fun" on repeat. All of it adds noise to a brain that's already running at full volume.
Let them control the car ride. If they want to talk, talk. If they want to listen to music, let them pick the playlist. If they want silence, give them silence. Your presence is enough. You don't need to fill the space with words. Sometimes the most calming thing a parent can do in the car is just... not say anything about the game.
When the Anxiety Keeps Coming Back
If pre-game anxiety is a once-in-a-while thing before big tournaments or new teams, the routine above will usually do the job. But if your kid is anxious before every single game, if it's getting worse over the season, or if it's starting to affect whether they want to play at all, that's a signal to pay closer attention.
It doesn't necessarily mean something is wrong. Some kids are just wired to feel more before competition. But if the anxiety is consistently stealing the joy from the sport, a conversation with a sports-friendly therapist or counselor can give your kid tools that go beyond what a parent's game day routine can offer. That's not a failure. That's you being a good parent who knows when to bring in reinforcements.
The Goal Isn't Zero Nerves
Here's the part that surprises most parents: the goal isn't to eliminate pre-game anxiety. Some nervousness is actually useful. It means your kid cares. It means the game matters to them. The athletes who perform best aren't the ones who feel nothing before a game. They're the ones who've learned to channel that energy instead of being paralyzed by it.
Your job isn't to make the butterflies go away. It's to help your kid teach them to fly in formation.
Name it. Move through it. Shrink the focus. Protect the car ride. That's the routine. And the more they practice it, the more automatic it becomes, until one Saturday morning, they eat the cereal without you having to say a word.
