A note before we dive in. This one is geared toward older players. The concepts apply at any age, but the message hits different when you're old enough to understand what you're really competing for.

My parents never gave me a lecture on discipline. I just watched them.

My dad went to work every day. Long hours. Hard labor. Not just the days he felt like it. My mom showed up for our family the same way. Consistent. Steady. No excuses.

That's where I learned it. Long before a coach ever said the word.

Most kids want to be great. Far fewer are willing to do the work on the days it feels like a grind. When they're tired, when practice is boring, when nobody's watching.

That's the gap. Between the player who wants it and the player who gets it.

Discipline isn't a feeling. It's a decision. A decision you make when you'd rather sleep in. When you know you're the only one up. Before anyone is keeping score.

In 2003, in my college dorm room at URI, I had a clock with a digital countdown sitting on my desk. It counted down the days to the 2006 MLB Draft.

Before I knew what a vision board was, that clock was mine.

Every morning I woke up and saw that number. It wasn't just a clock. It was a reminder. A standard. A promise I made to myself.

Every morning it asked me the same question without saying a word:

What did you do today to earn this?

There were days leading up to the Draft when I didn't have anyone to throw to. No catcher. No partner. So I grabbed my glove and found a fence.

At URI it was one near my place in Narragansett. Back home it was the fence at Lincoln Central Elementary School. A handful of times before the Draft, and after, I'd go there alone and get my work in.

Two different fences. Same mentality. Same decision.

That's what discipline actually looks like.

That Lincoln Central fence is still standing today. I've taken my own kids to see it. There are still dents in it from those sessions. Every time I look at it I'm reminded. Discipline doesn't care about perfect conditions. It just finds a way.

I wasn't obsessed with results. I was obsessed with the process. The scoreboard takes care of itself when you take care of the process.

I thought I had discipline figured out. Then I heard this.

Chase Hughes — behavioral expert and former U.S. Navy Chief — defines discipline as your ability to prioritize the needs of your future self ahead of your own present self.

Put simply: what you do today shapes who you become tomorrow. That's how I explain it to my kids now.

Every rep, every workout, every day you show up when you don't feel like it, you're making a trade. A small sacrifice today for a better version of yourself tomorrow.

The first decision you make to be disciplined is to show up. Everything else follows. The effort, the attitude, the reps. None of it happens if you don't walk through the door first.

The best players don't rely on motivation. They rely on routine. Consistency. Focus. Day after day. That's not talent. That's discipline.

You can't teach discipline by talking about it. You build it through reps.

Run the same drill five times. Watch rep four and five. That's where you see who they really are.

Hold the standard. Calmly. Consistently. Every time. The most disciplined players on your roster aren't always the most talented. They're the ones who've decided every rep counts.

For Players

For Parents

Help me keep more kids in the game. If you found this helpful, please forward it to another parent or coach.

Thanks for being here. See you next week Inside the Dugout.

-Coach Steve-

Steve Holmes
Founder, Inside the Dugout
2006 MLB Draft | All-American | Youth Coach | Dad