Am I shouting too much?

How Much Should You Shout?

What’s the right amount to shout and encourage at a football match?
What’s the wrong amount?
Who should be shouting?
When should you shout?
And what does a kid actually hear when someone is shouting at them?

Remembering the Shouts

Growing up, I played a lot of football. I remember the buzz of parents on the sidelines cheering when I put in a big tackle or played a decent pass. I also remember the shouts when I made a mistake, one coach in particular was always quick to call it out.

It doesn’t stir any deep emotion in me now, but I do remember it. Which tells you something.

By around 13 or 14, I was captain of my team, Holtwood Rangers. I wasn’t the fastest or most skilful, but I had a veryloud voice. I used it to encourage teammates, organise the team, and keep everyone focused. It became my thing.

The Coach's Voice

Now, as a coach, I try to use my voice positively on the touchline. I want the boys to hear encouragement, support, and the odd helpful nudge. I also want them to learn, so if there’s something I think they could improve, I’ll sometimes let them know.

But there’s a fine line between helping and controlling.

If you shout every time a player should pass, shoot, or mark, you may as well be holding a PlayStation controller.

A Tip That Changed My Coaching

About six months ago, I came across a tip from a coaching channel on Instagram:

“Only speak when your team is out of possession. Once they have the ball, stay quiet—except for encouragement.”

Simple idea. But powerful.

It's so easy to coach every single action, to try and live the game with them, or even through them. But that’s not coaching. That’s controlling. And kids need to learn for themselves.

It’s just like executive coaching. The transformation doesn’t happen because you tell someone exactly what to do. It happens when they reflect, try, fail, and learn. That’s what leads to real change.

The Silent Game

During a therapy session last year, my therapist shared a story: she’d been to her grandson’s football match, and it was a silent game. No shouting allowed. Not from parents. Not from coaches. Just the kids, playing.

I loved the idea. Today, when my son kicked the ball out for a corner and I shouted to suggest a better option… he probably wished I was in a silent game. But that’s part of the learning too, for him, and for me.

Use Your Voice (Wisely)

So now, I try to stay focused on encouragement, learning, and recognising the good in every part of the match. And yes, I still have a loud voice.

So I may as well use it to shout “well done!” as often as I can.