As a Former D1 Coach, Here's What Used to Take a Baseball Player Off My Board in Seconds
I've evaluated thousands of baseball players over my career. Some made my board. Some stayed on it all the way through signing day.And some got removed in seconds.
Not because they weren't talented. Not because they couldn't hit or throw. But because of things that had nothing to do with their measurables.
As a coach, I could live with a kid who ran a 7.2 sixty. I could work with a hitter who had a long swing. I could develop arm strength and adjust mechanics.
But I couldn't fix a bad attitude. I couldn't teach effort. And I wouldn't waste a roster spot on a kid who didn't compete.
Here's what used to take a player off my board immediately—and what every parent needs to know before their son steps on a field in front of a coach.
1. Lack of Effort Between Pitches
This was the fastest way to lose my interest.
I'd be watching a showcase or tournament game, and I'd see a kid crush a double. Great. I'm locked in. Then I'd watch him jog to second base instead of sprinting. Or stand at second with his hands on his hips instead of staying engaged.
Next at-bat, he'd hit a routine ground ball and jog to first.Done. Off my board.
I didn't care if he hit .400 or had a 95 mph fastball. If a player didn't sprint to first base on a routine ground ball, that told me everything I needed to know about how they'd show up in practice, in the weight room, and in the games that mattered.
Effort is non-negotiable. Talent gets you noticed. Effort keeps you on the board.
What I wanted to see: Hustle on every play. Sprinting to first, even on obvious outs. Staying engaged in the dugout. Being the first one to back up a throw or congratulate a teammate. Those things told me a kid competed, even when no one was watching.
2. Body Language After Failure
Baseball is a game of failure. Every player strikes out. Every player makes errors. The best players I ever coached failed just as much as everyone else—they just responded differently.
I'd watch a kid strike out, and he'd slam his bat. Throw his helmet. Sulk in the dugout for two innings.
Or I'd see a shortstop make an error, drop his head, and check out mentally for the rest of the game.
Off my board.
Listen, I get it. Failure sucks. Striking out in a big moment stings. But how a player responds to adversity tells me more about their character than any stat line ever could.
I needed players who could flush a mistake, refocus, and compete the next play. College baseball is hard. There will be slumps, tough losses, and days where nothing goes right. If a kid can't handle failure at 17, they're not going to handle it at 19 when the competition is better and the pressure is higher.
What I wanted to see: Composure. A kid who strikes out, walks back to the dugout without drama, and moves on. A kid who makes an error, takes a deep breath, and locks back in for the next play. That's mental toughness. That's coachable.
3. Disrespecting Umpires, Coaches, or Opponents
This one was automatic. Didn't matter how good the kid was.If I saw a player argue with an umpire, talk back to a coach, or show up an opponent, I was out.
I remember watching a tournament game where a pitcher struck out a hitter and stood on the mound staring him down. The kid had a great arm. Mid-90s. But I immediately crossed him off my list.
Why? Because that kind of behavior doesn't fly in college baseball. Umpires will toss you. Coaches won't tolerate it. And your teammates won't respect it.
I needed players who competed hard but respected the game. There's a difference between being intense and being arrogant. Intensity is channeled. Arrogance is toxic.
What I wanted to see: Respect. Compete hard, but tip your cap when you get beat. Shake hands after the game. Say "yes sir" to the umpire even when you disagree with the call. That's how champions carry themselves.
4. Not Being Coachable
I'd go to showcases and watch kids take batting practice or do infield work. Instructors would give them a tip or correction, and the kid would ignore it or argue.
Off my board.
Being coachable isn't about being perfect. It's about being open to feedback and willing to adjust. In college, you're going to get coached hard. Your swing will get torn apart and rebuilt. Your approach will get challenged. If you can't handle constructive feedback at a showcase, you're not going to survive a college program.
I also watched for how kids responded to their travel coaches. If a kid rolled his eyes or gave attitude when his coach corrected him, that told me everything I needed to know.
What I wanted to see: Players who listened. Who asked questions. Who took feedback, made an adjustment, and tried again. That's coachable. That's someone I can develop.
5. Poor Teammates in the Dugout
This one gets overlooked, but it mattered.
I'd be watching a game and focusing on one player. But I'd also glance at the dugout between innings. I wanted to see how kids treated their teammates.
Were they engaged? Cheering? Encouraging guys who were struggling?Or were they sitting alone, on their phone, checked out?
The best players I recruited weren't always the most talented. They were the ones who made everyone around them better. The kid who picked up a teammate after an error. The one who was the loudest voice in the dugout when his team needed energy.
Those were the guys I wanted on my team.Baseball is a team game. If your son is a great player but a bad teammate, he's not going to fit in a college program. And coaches can see that from the dugout, even if they're not watching him hit.
What I wanted to see: Energy. Engagement. Encouragement. A kid who was locked into every pitch, supporting his teammates, and competing even when he wasn't in the game.
6. Not Taking Care of Their Body
I'd see a kid with great tools, and then I'd watch him show up overweight, out of shape, or clearly not taking care of himself.Off my board.
College baseball is a grind. Fall ball, winter workouts, spring season, summer ball. If a kid isn't taking care of their body in high school, they're not going to survive the workload in college.
I'm not talking about being a perfect athlete. I'm talking about showing up in shape, putting in the work, and treating your body like it matters. Because in college, it does.
What I wanted to see: A kid who looked like they worked in the weight room. Who moved well. Who showed up ready to compete. That told me they were serious about getting better.
The Bottom Line
Talent gets you noticed. Effort, attitude, and character keep you on the board.
I've seen plenty of talented kids lose opportunities because they didn't compete, didn't handle failure, or didn't respect the game. And I've seen less talented kids earn scholarships because they showed up every day, worked hard, and made their teammates better.
Coaches are watching everything. How your son runs to first. How he responds to a strikeout. How he treats his teammates. How he handles coaching.
The fastest way to lose a coach's interest isn't a weak arm or a slow sixty time. It's showing a coach that you don't compete when it counts.
At Premier Athletes, we help families understand what coaches are actually evaluating—because recruiting isn't just about talent, it's about showing coaches you're worth investing in.
