I Feel Like I Want It More Than My Kid
If you’ve ever caught yourself refreshing a coach’s Twitter feed at 11pm while your son is upstairs playing Xbox, completely unbothered, this one’s for you.
That feeling — “I think I want this more than he does” — is one of the most common (and quietly painful) things soccer parents go through.
Here’s the good news, dad to dad: it doesn’t mean you’re doing it wrong. It means you love your kid. But it does mean it’s time for a small reset.
First, Take a Breath — He’s Still a Kid
It’s easy to forget when you’re deep in the recruiting grind, but a 16-year-old’s brain isn’t wired to plan four years ahead. You’re seeing the whole map: the scholarships, the roster spots, the closing window. He’s seeing Saturday’s game and whether his cleats still fit.
That gap isn’t a character flaw or a lack of ambition. It’s just being a teenager. When you feel yourself getting frustrated that he’s “not taking this seriously,” remind yourself that caring about college recruiting the way you do is genuinely hard for a kid to feel yet.
Why You Wanting It More Backfires
Here’s the tricky part. The more you push, the more it becomes your thing instead of his thing.
Kids are experts at handing responsibility back to a parent who’s willing to carry it.
If you’re the one emailing coaches, filling out the questionnaires, and tracking the deadlines, he never has to. And coaches can smell it — they can tell in about thirty seconds whether they’re recruiting the player or the parent.
What they actually want is a kid who reaches out himself, even if the email is a little clunky. That ownership is the whole point.
Concrete Things That Actually Help
You don’t have to choose between pushing too hard and doing nothing. Try shifting from driver to co-pilot. This is honestly what helped me as I continue to go through this process with my son.
Hand him one small job that’s fully his. Maybe it’s sending one coach email a week, or updating his highlight clips. Small, his name on it, his responsibility. Let him do it imperfectly.
Ask questions instead of giving instructions. “What did you think of that camp?” beats “You need to follow up with that coach.” One opens a conversation, the other starts a standoff.
Separate your soccer talk from your relationship. Pick a lane — say, the 20-minute car ride home — and outside of that, just be his dad. Not every dinner needs a recruiting update.
Let him feel a consequence or two. If he forgets to reply to a coach, resist rescuing it. A missed opportunity teaches ownership faster than any lecture you can give.
When He Comes Around, Be Ready
Motivation in teenage boys tends to arrive suddenly and out of nowhere — usually after a good tournament, a coach’s compliment, or seeing a teammate commit.
Your job isn’t to manufacture that spark. It’s to keep the door open and the tools ready so that when he does get fired up, he can move fast instead of starting from zero.
Keep it low-pressure now, and you’ll still have his trust when it matters.
You’re Not Failing — You’re Just Early
If you take one thing from another dad who’s been there: your kid caring less than you right now is normal, and it’s not permanent. The goal isn’t to want it less. It’s to let him want it more, on his own timeline, with you in his corner instead of on his back.
That’s exactly why we built Ninety. It gives your son a simple, kid-friendly way to take ownership of his own recruiting — building his profile, reaching out to coaches, and tracking his progress himself — so you can finally step back into the dad role and let him drive. Check out Ninety at go90.io and help your son make it his.

About the Author
Beau is the founder of Ninety (go90.io), a college soccer recruiting platform built exclusively for high school boys. A soccer dad who navigated the recruiting process firsthand with his son — an MLS NEXT player — he built Ninety to be the resource he wished he had. Beau also ran SoccerNovo and has a passion for building web apps that solve real problems. He writes about college soccer recruiting to help players and families cut through the noise and recruit with confidence.
