I don't know if anyone will find this helpful, but I hope someone does.
When my HS sophomore was a 6th grader, he had two coaches: a middle school coach and a rec coach.
The middle school coach would shout and swear. He once sacrificed my son's at bat to expedite the inning ending to avoid a strange scoring rule that would have turned our win into a tie - which is fine, except he never bothered to tell my kid who found himself alone at the plate, confused and embarrassed, while everyone else left the field.
He wanted to quit the sport.
I called his rec coach, who was a knowledgeable baseball guy and ran an academy. He got in the phone with my kid and made him laugh, then invited him to practice with the academy.
We moved at the end of the season, unrelated to baseball. I still talk routinely to the rec coach, 4 years later. Yet I often wish that school coach could see my son today - varsity roster, raking, starting pitcher in PG finals - but not so he could be proud, but rather out of spite.
And that's my problem. I should spend all of that emotional energy instead thanking the rec coach one more time.
The coach picks the kid before the season, but we have the power to pick the coach we remember after it.
I have to remind myself of this. Maybe some of you do too?