Reflexion
A few weeks ago, some words from Lamine Yamal sparked a reflection that should be of interest to all of us working in youth football.
In an interview with El País, published on 21 June 2026, he was asked whether his style of football was the result of a perfect blend of street football and academy training.
His answer contains an idea that should give us pause for thought:
‘With the players coming through now, the problem I see is that by the age of four they’re already signing up for a football team…’
Lamine goes on to explain how, from a very early age, we start telling children what to do depending on the position they play.
And he contrasts that experience with something much simpler: playing in the street, where the rules could be boiled down to scoring two goals to keep playing. Without an adult constantly telling them where to position themselves, when to pass, when to dribble, or what the correct solution was. There was a problem, and the player had to find a way to solve it.
His reflection raises a question that perhaps all of us who design learning programmes for young footballers should ask ourselves:
Are we developing them more, or are we making more decisions for them?
We have never had so many resources at our disposal for training footballers; children start earlier; coaches are better prepared; we have better facilities; more analysis; more technology; more information; we plan practically every minute of their training; and all of this represents a huge step forward… But precisely because we know more, we should ask ourselves an even more challenging question:
Can a structure designed to facilitate learning end up eliminating some of the experiences a child needs to learn?
The problem is probably not that a child joins an academy at the age of four. The problem may arise when, from the age of four, we also start making too many decisions for them.
We tell them where to position themselves; when to pass; when to dribble; where to move; what position to take up; which solution to choose… And little by little, we run the risk of turning them into the coach’s ‘puppets’: players capable of replicating our solutions, but increasingly dependent on external information to resolve situations they ought to learn to interpret for themselves.
Reproducing a solution and devising a solution are different processes.
In the first one, the answer belongs to the coach. In the second one, the learning begins to belong to the player
Who owns the game?
We don’t need to romanticise street football. It had no planning, no educational objectives, no specialist coaches, and few of the opportunities a football academy offers today. But it had one feature that was hard to ignore: for many hours, the game belonged to the children.
They decided where to play, with whom, how to form the teams, what the rules were and how to resolve any conflicts that arose. And once the ball started rolling, no adult was constantly providing answers either.
The academy allows us to greatly improve that environment. We can design better experiences, support learning, adapt the level of difficulty, and help players understand what they cannot yet discover for themselves. The problem arises when we confuse supporting with constantly directing.
The more we know, the greater the temptation to intervene. We see a solution and want to show it to them. We spot a mistake and want to correct it. Every time we provide an answer, we should ask ourselves: are we facilitating their learning, or are we taking away an opportunity for them to discover it for themselves?
Because coaching is not about choosing between teaching and letting them get on with it. It is about knowing when they need our help and when they need to tackle the problem without it.
Perhaps that is one of the greatest responsibilities of modern coaching: to possess a wealth of knowledge without feeling the need to use it constantly.
Sometimes we’ll have to explain. Other times, ask questions. At other times, guide their attention. At others, adjust the environment. And sometimes we’ll have to do something much more difficult:
keep quiet and let them play.
Not because the coach stops teaching, but because at certain moments the game itself can provide the information the player needs to learn.
Before giving them the answer, are we sure they cannot discover it for themselves?
Perhaps, then, the question isn’t really:
Street Football or Academy training?
It’s not about choosing.
It’s about building a football academy capable of harnessing all the knowledge, resources and possibilities we have today, without taking away what made the child the protagonist of their own game.
LEARNING MUST BELONG TO THE PLAYER.
Questions for further reflexions
It does not mean that the coach stops teaching or becomes less important. On the contrary. The coach designs experiences, directs attention, provides information, asks questions, corrects, and intervenes when necessary. But there is a part of the process that the coach cannot carry out for the player: observing, interpreting, making connections between information, making decisions, making mistakes, adjusting, and, finally, understanding.
We can create the conditions for them to learn, but we cannot learn for them.
This does not mean that teaching is a bad thing, nor that we should leave the player to discover absolutely everything for themselves. The phrase is intended to prompt reflexion on the extent, timing, and manner of our intervention.
Teaching can start to limit learning when we provide answers that the player was capable of finding for themselves, when we constantly anticipate problems, or when our intervention creates dependency.
The question is not ‘do we teach or do we not teach?’, but rather:
When does the player need our help, and when do they need the opportunity to discover things for themselves?
Not necessarily. We must intervene more effectively.
An intervention should not be judged by how much the coach speaks, but by the effect it has on the player. Sometimes a direct explanation will be needed; at other times, a question; at others, directing their attention; at others, adjusting the conditions of the task; and, at certain moments, simply allowing them to carry on playing.
The real pedagogical challenge is not whether to intervene a lot or just a little, but to recognise what kind of intervention that player needs at that moment.
No. Autonomy does not mean the absence of teaching.
The coach can frame the problem, adjust its difficulty, provide information, highlight what the player has not yet noticed, and support them throughout the process. But supporting them does not mean walking the path for them.
We can help them find the answer without always giving it to them.
We can ask ourselves a simple question: what happens when our help is no longer there?
If the player constantly needs our voice to position themselves, look, pass, press or recognise what to do, perhaps some of the decisions we think they are making still belong to the coach.
Learning begins to become apparent when the player is progressively able to interpret and resolve situations without constantly needing external information.
We do not need to bring back the street or pit it against the academy. The academy has the knowledge, professionals and resources to create far better learning environments. But we can ask ourselves what experiences that spontaneous play offered: autonomy, responsibility, exploration, negotiation, adaptation and, above all, the chance to play for a long time without an adult constantly making decisions for the child.
The challenge is not to return to the street.
The challenge is to build an academic environment that keeps the player at the center.
