COACHING YOUR OWN KIDS GET THE MOST OUT OF WORKING WITH YOUR SONS' OR DAUGHTERS' TEAMS.

Byline: Ross Siler GoodSports

It was a situation most major league pitchers would have had a hard time handling, let alone 10-year-old Tyler Kusnier, the red-haired right-hander with grass-stained knees on the mound in a Woodland Hills Sunrise Little League game.

For two innings, Tyler had pitched flawlessly, not giving up a run. But with two outs in the top of the fifth, he could only watch as his shutout vanished on several bad throws around the infield by his Mets teammates.

Two runs later, Tyler hung his head as he trudged toward the dugout after the final out, clearly upset. But waiting at the third-base line was Tyler's father, Claudio Kusnier, the Mets volunteer coach and a Western Bagel executive from Van Nuys.

And Kusnier was ready for what experts call the toughest job any parent can experience: coaching his or her own child.

So Kusnier put both hands on Tyler's shoulders and spoke into his ear. ``I told him he was doing a great job,'' Kusnier said, ``and what happened really wasn't his fault. I know it was tough on him. But I told him he had to get back into the game.''

In another five minutes, Tyler was playing rock-paper-scissors with a teammate in the dugout. The Mets went on to defeat the Rockies 10-9 in their final at-bat. And Kusnier opened his postgame speech by praising his son's pitching for keeping the score close.

The Mets were back in first place, Kusnier packed up batting helmets and balls before leaving and Tyler bounced around happy.

Nobody said it was easy.

Almost everyone who starts playing sports does so for a team coached by someone's parent - from the lowest levels of youth sports to the pro and college ranks in rare cases. What you can find at the local Little League is the same as the Cincinnati Reds dugout, where the manager is Bob Boone and his son Aaron is the team's third baseman.

Regardless of the competition, though, combining the roles of parent and coach can be one of the toughest tasks in raising children.

An almost-impossible balance must be found between not playing favorites (letting the child choose positions or uniforms first, for example) and not singling out the child for especially harsh treatment, either.

Experts say there's no evidence that a coach's son or daughter ends up as a better athlete, or even better adjusted, than a child whose parents are in the stands. But a bad parent-coach - the yeller familiar on the sideline at least once in everyone's life - can have a decidedly negative impact.

``I always tell people it's both the toughest thing and the most rewarding thing a parent can do,'' said Jonathan Buzby, a youth sports coach from Newark, Del., and author of the book, ``Coaching Kids: It's More than X's and O's.''

``You always have to remember that you're going to be your child's coach for this little amount of time. But you're going to be their father forever.''

The moments indeed can be magical for a parent-coach. That was something Kusnier could attest to after watching his son's part in the Mets' thrilling victory. Kusnier was giving Tyler signs on the mound and was the last voice his son heard before singling to open the team's final-inning rally.

``This is memories to me,'' said Kusnier, who coaches Tyler's baseball team in the spring and his daughter's soccer team in the fall. ``I hope when (Tyler) has kids he can tell them about Little League baseball and dad.''

Tyler, for his part, said he wouldn't want anybody to be his coach but his father.

``We talk about the games and how to get better,'' Tyler said. ``He's really nice and he gives me baseball stuff.''

But as both an umpire and board member of his local District 40 Little League, Kusnier also has seen the ugly side of parents who coach.

In one game he umpired last month, Kusnier witnessed a father pull his son from the field for throwing to the wrong base by mistake, a common error in the 9- to 12-year-old age group. ``Most coaches would have just talked to the kid,'' Kusnier said. ``He yanked his son.''

Even the best intentions can go awry for parent-coaches. Dr. Darrell Burnett, a youth sports psychologist from Laguna Niguel, once counseled a father and son from an Orange County Little League team. The problem was that whenever the father coached, the son cried after striking out.

But when the father had to miss a game, the child never cried. Eventually, Burnett had to advise the father - who he noted was a model parent-coach - to give up the job.

``Sometimes it's just hard for kids to see (a parent) as just a coach,'' Burnett said. ``They can't help them seeing them as more than that, especially if the child is very sensitive. They don't want to let them down.''

Suggested reading

``Coaching Kids for Dummies,'' By Rick Wolff, former Sports Illustrated columnist, author of three books on parent-coaching.

``Coaching Kids: It's More than X's and O's,'' By Jonathan Buzby, Director of Program Innovation, Special Olympics Delaware.

``Coaching Your Kids in the Game of Life,'' By Ricky Byrdsong, former Northwestern basketball coach.

``Fair Play: Making Organized Sports a Great Experience for Your Kids,'' By Scott B. Lancaster.

On the Web

www.djburnett.com. Web Site for Dr. Darrell Burnett, a Laguna Niguel youth sports psychologist and author of Gatorade's ``Sideline Suggestions'' for coaches.

Coaches: Keep competition in perspective

At the center of all organized sports stands the coach.

We all know that at the high school, college and professional levels, these men and women are judged, fairly or unfairly, by their win-loss record.

Striving to win can be justified on these levels because they are being paid for their efforts and win-loss records are the common and obvious measure of skill and success.

But what of the many thousands of volunteer youth coaches? How are we to judge them and determine if they have done a good job with our children?

Sadly, if you speak with many youth coaches, parents and kids, you will see that winning still is regarded as a powerful measuring stick of a coach's effectiveness, even on the youth levels.

In fact, many of these coaches actually feel trapped by the inevitable pressure to win even when they know it's not what their job really is. Frustrated boys and girls have seen for many years that the victory syndrome is hard to break.

Ironically, it's not always an ego thing: often it's the pleasure of seeing youngsters celebrating their conquests that can be so seductive. Or, unfortunately, it can be an unyielding pressure from parents to produce all-stars and champions.

It's time to think of participation and growth - not winning - as the definition of successful youth coaching.

- Pat McInally 

CAPTION(S):

3 photos, 3 boxes

Photo:

(1 -- cover -- color) Coach J.R. Schwer talks to his son John, 11, during a youth baseball game in Burbank.

Photo by Michael Owen Baker

(2 -- color) Coach J.R. Schwer and his team gather for a pep talk before a youth baseball game.

Photo by Michael Owen Baker

(3 -- color) Assistant coach Brian Cohen gives base running advice to Madison Shubert, who plays in the West Valley Girls Softball league.

Photo by David Sprague

Box:

(1) Suggested reading (see text)

(2) On the Web (see text)

(3) Coaches: Keep competition in perspective (see text)