The Freedom to Compete: A Letter to Young Athletes About Surrendering the Outcome
To the Young Athlete Who Feels the Weight,
This morning I was on the phone with my friend Chase, he’s been around the game a long time, played pro ball, now coaches at the highest level. We were talking about something that’s hard to explain but easy to feel:
Why do some athletes crumble in the biggest moments, while others rise?
And the answer we kept circling back to was this:
The ones who learn to surrender the outcome are the ones who unlock their full potential.
That might sound soft. But it’s not.
Because surrendering the outcome isn’t about giving up. It’s about showing up without fear. It’s about preparing like a savage, and then letting go. Letting go of the fear. Letting go of the need for control. Letting go of the voices in your head, in the crowd, and in the car ride home.
It’s about playing free.
What Does It Actually Mean to Surrender the Outcome?
It means this:
You train like hell.
You prepare with purpose.
You focus on what matters.
And when the lights come on, you go.
You compete without clinging to results.
You stay in the moment, not in your head.
You trust your preparation, not your performance.
You stop trying to control everything, and you give everything you have to what you can control.
Effort. Focus. Body language. Response.
The rest? You let go.
Ironically, the more you surrender the outcome, the more likely you are to succeed. That’s the paradox. But most people never figure it out, because they’re too busy chasing perfection and approval.
Why You're Struggling With This (And Why It's Not Your Fault)
Let me be real with you:
You’ve been raised in a culture obsessed with results.
Every game is posted on social media.
Every stat is tracked.
Every move is judged by parents, coaches, teammates, and strangers on the internet.
It’s loud. It’s constant. And it’s too much.
So when you start to tighten up, second-guess yourself, or feel like the game is heavy… it’s not because you’re mentally weak. It’s because you’re swimming in a system that has trained you to fear failure instead of grow from it.
And sometimes, the people putting that pressure on you are the ones who love you the most.
A Note to the Parents Reading This
I get it. I’m a dad too. You want your kid to succeed. You want them to be great.
But if the first question after a game is “Did you win?” or “How’d you play?”, you're unknowingly tying their self-worth to performance. And they feel that.
When their value becomes conditional, they stop playing free. They start trying to avoid mistakes. They start playing not to lose your approval.
And to the coaches out there, listen, I’ve been you. I’ve worn that hat for over 20 years. But most of us can’t teach surrendering the outcome because we’ve never learned it ourselves. We coach from ego. From fear. From pressure.
We coach to win, not to grow. And our players absorb that.
It’s time to flip it.
What I Want Every Young Athlete to Know
You are not your stats.
You are not your mistakes.
You are not the number on your jersey, or the comments in the group chat, or the opinion of a coach.
You are a work in progress. A fighter. A learner. A leader.
And if you can start showing up every day with full effort, full focus, and zero attachment to the outcome?
You’ll become dangerous.
Not because you're perfect. But because you're free.
Free to grow.
Free to risk.
Free to go all in.
That’s what surrendering the outcome gives you: freedom.
What To Do Now
If you want to get better at this, here’s where you start:
Commit to your controllables. Your effort, your attitude, your preparation, your recovery.
Let go of the scoreboard. It doesn’t define you.
Talk to yourself with respect. Your inner voice matters.
Ask better questions. Not “Did I win?” but “Did I grow today?”
Show up with gratitude. For the game, the struggle, and the chance to do this at all.
You’re going to have good days. Bad days. Hard lessons. Big wins. That’s part of it.
But if you keep surrendering the outcome and trusting the process, you will go further than you ever imagined.
I’ve seen it happen. I’ve lived it.
And I believe in you.
You are enough. You are capable. And your story is still being written.
Surrender the outcome.
Be where your feet are.
And go to war with peace in your chest.
I’m proud of you already.
With respect,
Coach Curtis
Dad. Coach. Competitor. Human.
