What you say next can make the game feel manageable or make it heavier. I learned that the hard way. The longer version is in why the ride home matters. This is the short version of what I try to avoid now, and what I say instead.

Replaying every mistake

"You took your eye off that ground ball."

"You were swinging at ball four all day."

It feels like coaching. To a nine-year-old after a loss, it can sound like a list of everything he did wrong.

I did this for years, and it’s one of my biggest regrets.

He already knows he missed the ball. He was there. Going over the mistake doesn't make him any more ready to fix it while the disappointment is still fresh.

He already knows he missed the ball. He was there.

Lessons from the parking lot

"Maybe we should get you some lessons" sounds supportive to the adult saying it.

The kid may hear that one bad game proved he isn't good enough. A private lesson can help when there's a specific problem and he wants help. That's a better conversation for later, when things are calm. Our guide to when private lessons make sense can help with that one.

Comparing him to someone else

Right after a hard game isn't the time to bring up the teammate who hit well, the brother who worked through the same thing, or what you could do at his age.

Even a nice comparison turns another kid into the measuring stick. After a rough game, he needs room to be disappointed without being ranked.

Blaming everyone else

The umpire may have missed a call. The other pitcher may have had a great day.

Going after the umpire, the other team, or the coach can feel like taking your kid's side. It also teaches him to look for someone to blame whenever a result hurts.

A tough call is worth a quick "yeah, that one was rough." It doesn't need to be the whole ride home.

Telling him you love watching him play

That's the whole sentence. It doesn't need "even when you strike out," and it doesn't need a correction after it.

What matters is that he knows you love watching him, no matter what the box score says.

That might be the only thing the ride needs.

Keeping my notes to myself

I still see the front foot pulling away and the late jump on the fly ball. If it matters, I hang on to it.

A few days later, I can ask if he wants to work on it in the yard. The coaching isn't canceled. It just waits until the game doesn't hurt anymore.

Getting back to normal

Get dinner. Stop for ice cream if that's what you usually do. Put some music on.

A normal routine tells him the game ended and nothing changed between you. Nobody has to pretend the loss felt good. It just doesn't get to be bigger than it was.

Looking ahead to the next one

"I can't wait for your next game" reminds him there's another chance coming.

One bad day can make a kid feel like this is who he is now. Looking forward to the next game tells him you don't see it that way.

If he wants to talk, I try to ask something that isn't a grade. Our list of better postgame questions has a few. If he doesn't want to talk, quiet is fine.

The mistakes can get fixed at practice or in the yard. Right after the game, he needs his dad more than another coach.

Tell him you love watching him play. Save the lesson. Get the ice cream.