What I Wish People Knew About Coaching with ADHD

Photo: me and my team.

Or: How I Forgot My Whistle but Remembered to Change Lives

Coaching with ADHD is a bit like playing a match in sideways rain with one boot on. Chaotic? Yes. But also, strangely effective… once you get used to the puddles.

So here’s what I wish more people understood about what it’s really like:

1. My Brain is a Bouncy Castle

Ideas? I’ve got a million. I can design a training session that’s fast-paced, creative, and keeps everyone guessing - mostly because I also don’t entirely know what’s happening next. Structure? Loosely held. Chaos? Lovingly embraced.

But trust me, if you want someone who can adapt on the fly with minimal tantrums when half the team cancels, the pitch is flooded, and your key player forgot her boots - I’m your girl. 

2. Admin is My Arch-Nemesis

I care deeply about every single player on my team. I will cheer their wins, remember their pronouns, and check in when they’re going through it.

But will I forget to submit the team sheet until 11:59pm the night before the match?

Yes. Yes I will.

I am powered by adrenaline and last-minute panic. It’s a system.

3. Time Is a Social Construct I Don’t Respect

To me, “five more minutes” is either one minute or thirty-seven. My internal clock is less of a clock and more of a confused sundial in the fog.

So if you see me arriving far too early, it’s because I was terrified of being late. If you think you’ve been doing a particular activity longer than my plan said, you probably have. Don’t be afraid to ask me to check the time. 

4. Hyperfocus = Superpower

ADHD means I can struggle to concentrate on boring stuff.

But when I’m locked in? I’m in beast mode. Mid-match, when tactics shift and tensions run high, I don’t miss a thing. I read the game, the players, and the energy in the room like a sixth sense. And when one of my players hits their first tackle or finally gets that pass right? I’m all in. Nothing else exists.

5. I Might Overshare (But You’ll Laugh)

Sometimes I go on tangents during team talks. Sometimes I forget the point of the drill mid-way through explaining it.

But you know what?

We laugh.

We connect.

And sometimes, that’s more powerful than the perfect session plan.

6. I Coach With Heart First

ADHD gives me big emotions - and that means I care. Probably too much. I remember how it feels to be the new player, the awkward one, the one who needs a little extra support. I will always notice if someone’s off, and I’ll always make time to check in. My players aren’t just athletes - they’re humans. And they’re my people.

So what’s the conclusion?

Coaching with ADHD isn’t always tidy. It’s not always efficient. It’s certainly not easy. 

But it’s real, passionate, responsive, and full of fire.

I might forget the whistle.

I might run the wrong drill.

I might get distracted mid-shouting “LINE SPEED!”

But I show up. Fully. Loudly. Wholeheartedly.

And that, I think, is what really matters.

PS: If you’re also a neurodivergent coach and you’re winging it with good intentions and a dodgy clipboard - keep going. You’re doing great, even if your water bottles are still in the boot of your car from last week or you’ve forgotten to wash the stinky bibs!