How often do we consider the individual needs of learners when planning a PE lesson or coaching session? We spend plenty of time thinking about technical development, tactics and session organisation, but perhaps less time considering how the environment, equipment and delivery of instructions can influence a young person’s engagement. I’ve put together a poster with 14 practical suggestions across seven areas of SEND and inclusion. The idea is simple: small adjustments to the way we coach can potentially make a significant difference to a learner’s experience of physical activity. I wanted to expand on some of these suggestions and explain how they might work in practice. 1. Autism – Predictability, Choice and Sensory Preferences For some autistic learners, uncertainty about what is happening next can create unnecessary anxiety. Practical ideas: - Visual timetables: Before a football session, show learners the sequence of activities using pictures or a simple whiteboard. For example: arrival game → passing activity → small-sided game → finish. Give advance warning if the plan changes. - Offer choice: Allow learners to choose between two activities or challenges where appropriate. Also consider sensory preferences, including noise, physical contact and the playing environment. The aim isn’t to remove challenge but to create an environment where learners feel comfortable enough to participate. 2. ADHD – Reduce Waiting and Create Achievable Challenges One of the simplest adjustments we can make is to look at how much time learners spend waiting rather than participating. Practical ideas: - Active arrival games: Instead of asking learners to wait for everyone to arrive, have a game ready that they can join immediately. For example, a small-sided football game or a series of individual ball challenges. - Gamification: Introduce short challenges with clear objectives. In basketball, learners might progress through levels by completing different shooting or dribbling tasks. -

Yesterday I shared a post looking at some of my favourite registas from different decades. Andrea Pirlo would be the player I’d most like to have played like. What fascinates me about the role is that a regista can control a match without necessarily dominating physically, covering huge distances or even touching the ball more than everyone else. But what actually separates a regista from a pivot or a conventional deep-lying midfielder? The distinction between the roles A pivot is generally a player operating centrally who provides balance, passing options and connections between defence and midfield. The pivot might be a single player or part of a double pivot. It’s largely a positional and structural responsibility. A defensive or holding midfielder is often tasked with screening the defence, protecting central spaces, disrupting opposition attacks and helping the team regain possession. A deep-lying playmaker describes a creative player who operates from deeper areas, using their passing range and vision to progress possession. The regista takes that playmaking responsibility further. Traditionally associated with Italian football, the regista is the team’s director, controlling the rhythm and direction of possession from a deeper position. These aren’t mutually exclusive roles. A regista is usually a type of deep-lying playmaker and may occupy the pivot position. The distinction is in what the team asks the player to do. What makes a regista different? For me, three qualities stand out. Tempo. The regista recognises when the team needs to slow possession down and when an opportunity exists to accelerate the attack. Playing quickly isn’t always the same as playing intelligently. Manipulation. The best registas use their positioning, body shape and passing to influence opponents. They can attract pressure to create space elsewhere, change the point of attack or play through a defensive line. Anticipation. They are constantly assessing the next phase of play. Their scanning, awareness and decision-making allow them to influence situations before they develop.

I’ve just finished Johnny Sexton’s autobiography and thought it was brilliant. What stood out to me wasn’t necessarily the trophies, the Lions tours or the big games. It was the honesty. Sexton is incredibly open about what was going through his head when he was dropped, substituted, left out or felt somebody else was being picked ahead of him. And some of it isn’t particularly flattering. Jealousy. Anger. Frustration. Resentment. The feeling that he should be playing. The inability to simply accept being second choice. But that is exactly what makes the book so interesting. We often talk about elite performers as if they have this perfectly controlled mindset. They’re resilient. They’re humble. They put the team first. They respond positively to setbacks. Sexton shows that the reality can be much messier than that. You can be a brilliant teammate and still hate being taken off. You can respect another player and still desperately want their shirt. You can understand a coach’s decision and still think they’re wrong. And perhaps most importantly, you can experience all of those emotions without allowing them to lower your standards. That relentless competitiveness clearly wasn’t always comfortable for Sexton or the people around him. But who are we kidding? This is what ambition looks like. For me, that’s what makes the book such a good read for coaches as well as players. Sometimes when an athlete reacts badly to being left out, our immediate reaction is that they need to “improve their attitude”. Of course behaviour still matters. But perhaps we should also recognise what might sit underneath it: They care. They want to play. They want to be the best. The challenge for coaches isn’t necessarily to remove that fire. It’s helping players learn how to use it. One of the best sporting autobiographies I’ve read in a long time.

Franco Baresi has passed away at the age of 66. I’ve always loved this clip of AC Milan retiring his number 6 shirt. Not because of the ceremony, but because of Baresi’s reaction. You can see what it means to him. In an era where changing clubs is normal, Baresi spent his entire professional career at AC Milan. Twenty seasons. Over 700 appearances. Six league titles. Three European Cups. When he retired, Milan retired his number 6 shirt too—a tribute reserved for only the most iconic figures in the club’s history. It got me thinking… As coaches, players or leaders, trophies eventually become memories. The real legacy is how people remember you. Were you loyal? Did you make those around you better? Did you leave your club in a stronger place than when you arrived? Franco Baresi did. Rest in peace, Capitano.

I was listening to Ben Youngs talking about Eddie Jones and Richard Cockerill. One thing really stood out. He said he loved how honest they were. If they wanted X, Y and Z from you, that’s exactly what they told you. You knew what was expected and you knew where you stood. There wasn’t any grey area. Personally, I like that. I think players deserve clarity. But Ben then admitted something really interesting. He said not everyone can cope with that level of honesty. That got me thinking. As coaches we’re always told to “be honest”. I agree. But does that mean being honest in exactly the same way with every player? Some players will take a blunt conversation and use it as motivation. Others might lose confidence completely. The feedback is the same, but the person receiving it isn’t. So where’s the balance? Should we adapt how we communicate depending on the player, or should honesty always come first? I’d be really interested to hear how others approach this. Have you ever changed the way you give feedback because of the individual in front of you? Or do you believe everyone should get the same level of honesty?