High school sports operate as a high-stakes environment where teenagers are judged on their physical performance, statistical output, and recruitment potential. Recently, a group of athletes at Westlake High formed an organization called Make Great Plays. The stated mission involves high school athletes mentoring elementary school students to help them believe in themselves. The narrative fits perfectly into the feel-good category that local newspapers and community newsletters adore.
The reality of these student-led initiatives is rarely scrutinized. While the intentions of the teenagers involved are usually genuine, these programs often operate as resume-padding vehicles designed to satisfy the rigorous demands of elite college admissions. The core premise—that a varsity athlete holding a weekend clinic can fundamentally alter a child's self-esteem—ignores the deeper systemic issues facing youth sports and child development.
We need to examine the mechanisms of these high school mentorship programs. They are not a substitute for professional coaching, structured physical education, or licensed child psychology.
The Resume Arms Race
To understand why programs like Make Great Plays are forming at competitive high schools nationwide, one must look at the current state of higher education admissions. Academic excellence is no longer sufficient to secure a spot at a top-tier university. Standardized test scores have been de-emphasized by many institutions, forcing applicants to find other ways to stand out.
Enter the student-founded nonprofit organization.
Admissions officers have grown weary of standard volunteer work. Shelving books at a local library or participating in a weekend beach cleanup is seen as passive. To demonstrate leadership, students are now expected to create their own initiatives. This has led to an explosion of hyper-local charities, clubs, and mentorship programs that often exist primarily on paper and in common application essays.
Athletes are under specific pressure. The time commitment required for varsity sports often precludes them from holding traditional part-time jobs or engaging in extensive extracurricular activities. Launching a sports-centric mentorship program solves this problem neatly. It allows the athlete to combine their existing sports schedule with leadership credentials.
The Limits of Teen Mentorship
A teenager teaching a child to throw a baseball or kick a soccer ball is a positive interaction. It is not, however, a solution to the complex challenges of youth development.
Varsity athletes are not trained educators. They understand how to execute athletic maneuvers themselves, but they rarely possess the pedagogical training required to teach those skills to children of varying developmental stages. Teaching a third grader requires a different set of skills than executing a double play in a high school game.
There is also the issue of consistency. High school athletes have chaotic schedules filled with practices, games, homework, and social obligations. A mentorship program that operates sporadically cannot provide the sustained, reliable presence that at-risk or struggling children need to build genuine self-confidence.
True mentorship requires consistent, long-term engagement that aligns with professional developmental standards.
When a program promises to help children believe in themselves, it sets a high bar. True self-belief in children is built over years through stable environments, consistent positive reinforcement, and the mastery of skills. A few sessions with a high school sports star might provide a temporary thrill, but it is unlikely to leave a lasting psychological impact.
The Professionalization of Youth Sports
The rise of these high school mentorship groups is also a reaction to the extreme professionalization of youth sports.
Decades ago, children learned sports through unstructured play in neighborhoods or through low-cost town leagues. Today, youth sports are a multi-billion-dollar industry dominated by private travel teams, personal trainers, and expensive specialized facilities. Children are often pressured to specialize in a single sport before they even reach middle school.
This professionalized environment has created a divide. Families with financial resources can afford the coaching and travel necessary to develop elite athletes. Families without those resources are left behind.
In this context, a program like Make Great Plays attempts to bridge the gap. By offering free or low-cost interaction with high school athletes, it provides a semblance of the sports experience to children who might otherwise be excluded.
But this is a Band-Aid on a compound fracture. A volunteer program cannot replicate the infrastructure of a properly funded public recreation system. By relying on the charity of high school students to provide these experiences, communities are abdicated from their responsibility to fund accessible sports infrastructure for all children.
A Better Model for Athlete-Led Community Service
This critique does not mean that high school athletes should stop trying to help their communities. It means they need to shift their focus toward models that produce measurable, sustainable outcomes.
Instead of creating new, redundant organizations to satisfy admissions boards, high school athletes should partner with existing, professionalized nonprofits. Organizations like the Boys & Girls Clubs of America or local YMCA chapters already have the infrastructure, background checks, and trained staff needed to handle youth development safely and effectively.
High school athletes can serve as powerful volunteers within these established systems. They can act as assistant coaches, tutor coordinators, or event organizers under the supervision of professionals who understand how to channel that teenage energy into productive child development.
Furthermore, student-athletes should look at advocacy rather than direct service. A high school sports team has significant social capital in its community. Athletes can use that capital to lobby local school boards and city councils for better funding for elementary physical education and public recreational facilities. That is leadership that creates permanent change.
The desire of the Westlake High athletes to help younger students is commendable. The problem is not their intent, but the system that incentivizes the creation of superficial solutions to deep-seated social needs. We must stop grading these initiatives on a curve just because teenagers are running them. Real impact requires more than a great play; it requires a complete overhaul of how we support the next generation of athletes.
Let us evaluate these programs by the actual infrastructure they build and the sustained support they provide. High school athletes have the power to make a difference, but only if they are willing to do the hard, unglamorous work of supporting systems that outlast their graduation dates.
