Breaking the Cycle — A Father's Journey

Last fall, Sarah and I got to watch Rocco (junior) and Giovanni (freshman) take the field together for the first time. After all these years coaching and parenting, this one just felt special. “There’s a difference between honoring where you come from and being bound by it.” This night felt like honoring.

As I approach my 53rd birthday, I find myself seeing the world with more clarity and optimism than ever before. I only wish it had always felt this way.

In the summer of 2021, my family and I returned to my hometown for the first time in six years. I had never gone that long without visiting, and with that distance came a fresh perspective. The time away had wiped the lens clean, and I began to see the place I came from with startling honesty.

When we arrived at my parents’ home, it felt like stepping back in time. Everything around me seemed suspended, untouched by the years that had passed. While I had grown, stretched, and evolved in ways I hadn’t fully realized until that moment, so much of what I knew from childhood had remained still. And in that stillness, a quiet, unsettling truth began to emerge: there wasn’t much left for me there. The version of my childhood I had long held onto, a quaint, traditional upbringing, began to unravel. What I had once accepted as “normal” no longer felt that way.

At the time, I didn’t fully understand what I was seeing—but it shook something loose in me.

That visit became a catalyst. What followed was the beginning of what I now see as a lifelong journey into therapy, healing, and self-discovery, one that was often disorienting, but ultimately liberating. I spent countless hours in therapy, both individually and with my wife, and completed a two-month outpatient program for PTSD in Utah. Slowly, I began to trace the roots of my anxiety and depression. I learned to be curious about my emotions instead of ashamed of them, and came to understand the difference between honoring where you come from and being bound by it.

My relationship with my father has always been complicated. He was a deeply authoritative presence, emotionally distant, intensely critical, and often harsh. I spent much of my childhood, and most of my adult life feeling like I could never quite measure up. Even now, there are often years between our conversations.

And yet, I’ve always admired him. He put himself through law school while raising a family. He’s intelligent, resourceful, and capable. Over time, I began to dig into his past, reading old newspaper articles, tracing family stories, and uncovering patterns that dated back generations. What I found was a lineage marked by loss, rigidity, and emotional suppression. The weight he carried wasn’t just his, it was passed from his grandfather to his father, and then to him. That knowledge didn’t excuse the pain I experienced, but it gave me a deeper understanding of the emotional inheritance he never had the tools to unpack.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t parenting that first showed me how to do things differently, it was coaching. I’ve spent more than 30 years coaching youth sports, and somewhere along the way, I began to realize just how transformational that role could be. As a coach, I had the power to shape environments where kids felt seen, supported, and safe; where mistakes weren’t punished, but explored. Where joy and effort mattered more than outcome. Where connection mattered more than anything else.

The more I leaned into that approach with the players I coached, the more I realized that was the kind of environment I wanted to create at home. Coaching became a kind of rehearsal space for the kind of father I wanted to be. It gave me practice; real, human practice; in showing up with patience, empathy, and belief. And over time, it gave me a foundation and strength to parent in a similar fashion.

My wife and I are raising our two sons with love, vulnerability, honesty, and connection at the center of everything we do. And the impact of that, combined with the role I know their coaches have played in shaping them, has only deepened my desire to continue advocating for an building healthier youth sports environments.

I still remember the car rides home from games as a kid, being told I was lazy, not good enough, didn’t care enough. My father was that parent. Disappointed. Demanding. Devastating. For a long time, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. And sadly, I believed him.

But I’ve come to believe there’s a better way. A way that puts the child’s experience, well-being, and development first. A way that values progress over perfection, connection over results.

I believe deeply in the transformational power of sport, but only if the adults involved commit to creating and supporting that type of environment. That means coaches who care more about the kid than the scoreboard. That means parents who know when to cheer, when to step back, and how to model emotional intelligence. That means organizations willing to challenge the status quo in pursuit of something better.

That’s what this blog is about.

It’s about breaking generational cycles. About doing the hard work of healing. About having the courage to parent and lead differently; and the joy that comes from raising kind, strong, emotionally healthy boys. And along the way, perhaps we can do our part to nudge the youth sports culture in the proper direction, so that it truly supports the growth of our kids; not just as athletes, but as humans.