Most coaches don’t struggle because they lack knowledge, effort, or care. In fact, the opposite is usually true. They are committed, passionate, and constantly looking for ways to improve. Yet despite this, many find themselves repeating the same patterns year after year, often producing similar outcomes. The reason for this is rarely discussed, but it sits beneath everything a coach does. It is not a lack of drills, ideas, or experience. It is identity.
Coaching identity is formed slowly. It develops through years of being coached, observing others, completing qualifications, and responding to the expectations of parents and players. Over time, these influences solidify into a way of seeing the game and a way of behaving on court. What begins as learning eventually becomes belief, and what becomes belief often goes unquestioned. This is where the problem starts. Because once identity is established, it begins to filter what a coach notices, values, and ultimately does.
This is why many coaches can attend workshops, consume new ideas, and even agree with alternative approaches, yet return to court and continue coaching in much the same way. It is not because they are unwilling to change, but because their underlying understanding of learning remains intact. In coaching science, this relates to epistemology — the beliefs a coach holds about how learning actually occurs. These beliefs are rarely made explicit, yet they shape every decision a coach makes. If learning is seen as the accumulation of correct technique through repetition, then practice will naturally prioritise control, correction, and consistency. If learning is understood as something that emerges through interaction with the environment, then practice begins to look very different.
Research has consistently shown that there is often a gap between what coaches say they value and what they actually do. Coaches frequently describe themselves as player-centred, yet observational studies reveal a continued reliance on directive instruction and traditional drills (Pill, Hewitt, & Edwards, 2016; Anderson et al., 2021). This is not hypocrisy. It is identity operating beneath awareness. Coaches are not deliberately contradicting themselves; they are acting in line with deeply held beliefs that have been reinforced over time.
This becomes particularly clear when observing practice environments. Sessions that are heavily structured, frequently interrupted, and dominated by instruction are not simply a result of habit. They reflect a belief that the coach is responsible for directing learning and that players require constant guidance to improve. Even when elements of modern coaching are introduced — such as games, variability, or the language of constraints — these are often layered onto a traditional foundation rather than replacing it. The surface appears to change, but the underlying logic remains the same.
As discussed in Coaching Tennis, practice design cannot be separated from how a coach understands learning itself (Whelan, 2025). Without a shift in that understanding, changes in method tend to be superficial. This is why so many attempts to modernise coaching result in what might be described as a hybrid approach, where new ideas are blended with old assumptions. In most cases, the dominant, traditional view continues to shape behaviour.
Challenging coaching identity is difficult because it is not just a technical adjustment; it is a personal one. To reconsider how learning works is, in many ways, to reconsider years of practice, experience, and professional credibility. It is understandable that this creates resistance. Coaches are not only protecting methods; they are protecting a sense of who they are. This is why new approaches can feel uncomfortable, even when the evidence supporting them is strong.
From an ecological dynamics perspective, this discomfort is necessary. Learning in sport is not about reproducing idealised movements but about adapting to ever-changing situations. Skill emerges from the continuous interaction between the player, the task, and the environment (Davids, Button, & Bennett, 2008; Gibson, 1979). The role of the coach, therefore, is not to impose solutions but to design environments that invite them. This requires a different kind of expertise — one that is less visible, less controlling, and often less immediately satisfying for both coach and parent.
The implications of this shift extend beyond practice design. Coaching is inherently relational. The way a coach understands their role influences how they interact with players and parents. An identity built around being the expert who provides answers often leads to dependency, where players look to the coach for solutions and parents judge sessions based on visible instruction. In contrast, an identity centred on guiding and shaping learning tends to foster greater autonomy, resilience, and engagement. Players begin to take ownership of their development, and parents gradually come to understand that effective coaching does not always look like constant correction.
This is where coaching moves beyond delivery and becomes influence. It is no longer about what the coach says or demonstrates, but about the environments they create and the behaviours those environments invite. However, reaching this point requires more than exposure to new ideas. It requires reflection. Not surface-level reflection on what went well or what could be improved, but deeper questioning of the assumptions that underpin practice.
This is also why independent learning has its limits. Coaches can read, watch, and experiment, but without challenge and feedback, they often reinforce their existing beliefs. Mentoring plays a critical role here, not by providing answers, but by helping coaches see their own practice more clearly. It creates space to question, to explore, and to gradually reshape identity in a way that aligns with how learning actually occurs.
Coaching identity is rarely addressed directly, yet it underpins everything a coach does. If it remains unchanged, practice will remain unchanged, regardless of how many new ideas are introduced. And if practice remains unchanged, the outcomes for players will follow the same pattern.
The most important step in developing as a coach is not adding more drills, more knowledge, or more structure. It is developing the willingness to question what is already there. Because until that happens, improvement is limited not by a lack of information, but by the boundaries of identity itself.
References
Anderson, R., et al. (2021). Coaching behaviours in tennis: A contemporary analysis.
Davids, K., Button, C., & Bennett, S. (2008). Dynamics of skill acquisition: A constraints-led approach. Human Kinetics.
Gibson, J. J. (1979). The ecological approach to visual perception. Houghton Mifflin.
Pill, S., Hewitt, M., & Edwards, K. (2016). Examining coaching practice through observation.
Whelan, S. (2025). Coaching tennis. In S. M. Smith (Ed.), Ecological dynamics in sport coaching (1st edn, pp. 189–210). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003529972-13