A Lesson in Resetting, Not Reacting

There’s a particular feeling that comes with heavy defeats. One try conceded turns into another… and another. Heads drop. Small frustrations begin to surface. Focus slips. The enjoyment drains away and the game starts to feel heavy – something to be endured rather than played. You can almost sense the players wishing the referee would blow the final whistle and bring it to an end.
At its core, rugby is a game of problem solving. And once the whistle goes, the only people who can solve those problems are the players on the pitch. As coaches, our role sits either side of that moment – between games and training sessions – thinking through what’s happening, what’s missing, and how we can equip players with options they can draw on for themselves between the four white lines.
Over the last couple of games, I’ve noticed something shift. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just quietly clicking into place.
The basics are being done more consistently. That alone changes the feel of a game. It creates space – not just on the pitch, but in the players’ thinking. From there, more creative options start to appear. But this hasn’t been something imposed from the sidelines. The girls have found a growing sense of belief themselves. You see it in small, almost unremarkable moments; choosing to kick for touch from a penalty to gain territory, or calmly clearing from their own try line under pressure.
We’ve also paid attention to process. One small example is restarts. Previously, conceding often meant handing possession straight back with little pressure. We reshaped that process to give ourselves a better chance of competing – and suddenly those moments felt different. In the last game, we even scored directly from our own restart.
Before their latest match, we asked the girls to hold one simple idea: every score is a reset. Nil–nil again. Be the next team to score, regardless of what’s just happened. Focus on the next job.
When the final whistle went and we gathered in a huddle, the reaction said everything. The girls were genuinely surprised they’d won. Not because they didn’t care but because they’d been so absorbed in doing their jobs, fighting for each other and enjoying the process that the outcome had barely registered.
There will be times when awareness of the score matters. But I’ve found that in grassroots youth rugby enjoyment matters just as much, if not more. And when the weight of expectation eases, something lighter emerges: belief, openness and a freedom to play.
The girls have learned something over these last few weeks. And speaking for myself, so have I. Which is probably why I keep coaching. There’s always more to notice… and always more to learn.