Sidelines of Life

2025 was one of those years that didn’t just go by—it taught. It tested patience, clarified values, and forced some hard but necessary perspective. The kind of year that reminds you that growth doesn’t always show up in the standings.
Both of my kids were navigating youth soccer this year, and although their paths looked different, the lessons overlapped in powerful ways.
The Addison Saga
Addison was playing for a larger club—one we truly believed was the right fit at the time. On the surface, everything looked solid. But as the year went on, it became clear that development wasn’t always the priority.
Commitment didn’t consistently lead to opportunity. Progress didn’t always translate into advancement. As a parent, that’s a hard thing to watch. I felt like Addison earned more than she was given—not through entitlement, but through work.
When she earned an opportunity to move on and play at a different level, it should’ve been a smooth transition. It wasn’t. It took patience and persistence, but we handled it the right way. In the end, she landed exactly where she needed to be—confident, challenged, and supported.
I truly believe God placed her in the right environment, and sometimes the struggle is part of getting there.
The Audrey Saga
Audrey and I were Union Storm. I coached her, and we built that team together over time. What made that environment special wasn’t wins—it was shared values, consistency, and development.
Eventually, it became clear that not everyone involved saw the game—or the purpose—the same way. The mindset didn’t align. That happens. Youth sports are full of differing philosophies, and sometimes paths simply separate.
When Union Storm came to an end for us, Audrey and I moved into a new club environment. We’re still there. We’re still committed. And we’re not here to tear it down.
Has it been a tough season? Yes.
Have we won a lot of games? No.
Has there been progress? Absolutely.
That matters.
I went in expecting to be the head coach and ended up as an assistant coach. Instead of making that about ego, I put my head down and kept pushing forward. I didn’t take a dime. I don’t do this for money. I’m not here to run a sideline business. I’m here to coach, mentor, and serve the kids in front of me.
We still have a spring season ahead, and I believe in the direction we’re moving.
Collectors vs. Coaches
One of the biggest lessons 2025 taught me has nothing to do with wins or losses.
There are a lot of collectors in youth sports.
Collectors of players.
Collectors of numbers.
Collectors of reputations.
And that’s not coaching.
You can have all the licenses in the world, but licenses don’t make you a coach. Development does. Relationships do. Patience does. Understanding kids does.
Development is hard. Losing seasons are hard. But development is what leads to winning down the road. You don’t skip steps and expect results. Kids aren’t assets—they’re people.
And here’s the truth: losing seasons usually aren’t as hard on kids as they are on adults. Parents get stuck on wins. Coaches who understand the game know you develop kids to win, not the other way around.
Toward the end of the season, especially indoors, we started to see real growth by meeting the girls where they actually are—not where we wish they were. You can’t force an offensive identity on a developing team and expect five or six goals while ignoring defensive structure, confidence, and decision-making.
Progress looks quieter than people expect.
Beyond Soccer
Off the field, 2025 was a year of reflection and vision more than execution.
I put a book out there. I continued writing. And I spent a lot of time thinking about what I want to build next—not just creatively, but purposefully.
One thing I know about myself is this: I read rooms. I read people. I read silence.
And awareness isn’t weakness—it’s clarity.
I also made the decision in 2025 that 2026 is the year I launch a podcast. It’s been in the works. The vision is there. The name is there. Most of the pieces are there. What I’m still looking for is the right spot to set it up.
The podcast will be Sidelines of Life with JB.
Not just solo episodes—but conversations. Interviews. Stories. Local people, everyday people, maybe bigger names down the road. Wherever it goes, the purpose will stay the same: real conversations about life, growth, struggle, and perspective—on and off the field.
I’m also continuing to shape a nonprofit vision. That’s still evolving, but the heart behind it hasn’t changed—community, youth, opportunity, and long-term impact over short-term noise.
None of it is rushed.
None of it is forced.
It’s all intentional.
Here’s to 2026
I’m stepping into 2026 with a plan.
It may not align perfectly with every plan I’m part of right now—and that’s okay. I’ve had this plan for a while. I’ve thought it through. Strategically, it may be challenging, but clarity makes hard things manageable.
This year also deepened my respect for people willing to put everything on the line. One of the families who supported us took a massive leap—buying a recreation center while still working full-time jobs. They poured money, time, and energy into something bigger than themselves.
As a business owner, I understand that pressure—the ambition, the integrity, the weight that doesn’t shut off when you go home. Both partners carry a heavy load, but men often carry pressure differently. The responsibility to provide, protect, and not fail is real.
My hat goes off to both of them. They’ve supported me, and I’ll continue to support them right back.
So here’s to 2026.
Here’s to progress over noise.
Here’s to development over collecting.
Here’s to integrity over ego.
Here’s to staying the course when it’s uncomfortable.
We build. Kindness will prevail.