Coaching with Compassion: Kyle Gookins on Ego, Inclusion, and Emotional Intelligence in Sport
Introduction
In the world of competitive sport, it’s not often that a coach openly admits their mistakes. Even less so one who reaches the top of their field, only to step back and re-evaluate everything they thought they knew. Kyle Gookins did just that.
A former NCAA college soccer coach, Kyle built a career around tactics, structure, and performance. But when his son was diagnosed with autism, his understanding of learning, communication, and coaching was turned on its head. The very strategies he once believed were universal began to unravel — not because they were wrong, but because they were incomplete.
This conversation isn’t just for coaches. It’s for anyone who believes sport should be a place where all people — regardless of how they learn, communicate, or express themselves — feel safe, seen, and supported.
“It’s not if you’re coaching neurodivergent athletes. It’s when. You already are. The question is, how well are you supporting them?”
From Authority to Awareness
Like many coaches, Kyle entered the profession with confidence, expertise, and a drive to win. But the more time he spent with his son, the more he recognised the limitations in his own understanding.
“I realised how many mistakes I made as a coach early on… I was putting the blame on the athlete rather than questioning my delivery.”
Watching his son grow, communicate, and learn differently brought about a quiet but radical shift in Kyle’s mindset. It wasn't that the players he’d coached didn’t understand — they just didn’t understand him. And he hadn’t tried to understand them.
“I had to change my tactics. I had to change my humour. I had to change how I used language… because I learned that communication isn’t one-size-fits-all.”
Coaching Is a Human Job
One of the most powerful moments in our conversation was when Kyle described coaching six-year-olds after years of working with elite college athletes.
“I went from NCAA players to teaching kids to tie their shoes. And I realised — the messages were the same. Try your hardest. Be kind. Have fun.”
He reflected on how those same values — effort, joy, teamwork — should have been his focus all along, even at the highest levels of competition.
“I used to tie my worth as a coach to results. I had to drop my ego.”
Emotional Intelligence Can Be Learned
At Neurodiverse Sport, we talk a lot about emotional intelligence — especially the idea that neuroinclusive environments require emotionally intelligent coaches. But is emotional intelligence something you’re born with, or something you can develop?
Kyle’s story gave me hope.
“I don’t think I was always emotionally intelligent. But becoming a parent forced me to see things differently. It wasn’t overnight, but slowly I started to shift.”
He believes emotional intelligence can be taught — but only if the person is open to growth.
“You have to drop the ego. You have to be willing to admit you were wrong. And you have to keep learning.”
On Creating Safe Environments
Kyle is passionate about making sport a place where athletes feel safe to make mistakes, learn at their own pace, and enjoy the process — not just chase perfection.
“You can have competition and compassion. You can have performance and person-centered coaching. It’s not either/or.”
He shared that one of his proudest moments wasn’t on the pitch, but at his son’s preschool graduation. His son, who stims when he’s happy, was joined by a neurotypical classmate who began stimming alongside him.
“She just wanted to express joy like he did. That’s what inclusion looks like.”
Changing the Culture, Not Just the Equipment
Inclusion, Kyle reminded me, isn’t about flashy tech or new buildings. It’s about changing hearts, minds, and cultures.
“You don’t need new equipment to be inclusive. You need new thinking.”
He finished our conversation with this simple yet powerful takeaway:
“Learn how to coach people. Not just sports. Learn how to see them, to hear them, to support them. That’s where the magic is.”
Final Thoughts
Now based in Atlanta, Georgia, Kyle leads The Neu Sport, an organisation dedicated to helping coaches and sports organisations build environments where neurodivergent athletes can thrive. He joined Neurodiverse Sport to share his journey from ego to empathy, from elite coach to inclusive educator — and how being a parent helped him become the coach he wished he'd always been.
Kyle’s story is not just about a coach learning how to support his son. It’s about how that learning ripples out into every team, every athlete, and every environment he touches. It’s about humility, reflection, and the belief that we can do better — not just as coaches, but as people.
At Neurodiverse Sport, we believe in that vision. And we’re grateful for Kyle’s voice — one of compassion, courage, and curiosity.
Visit The Neu Sport website to find out more about Kyle’s work.
Key Takeaways for Neurodivergent Individuals
You’re not the problem — the environment might be
→ If you're struggling to take in information or feel misunderstood, it’s not a reflection of your capability. Sometimes the way things are taught just isn’t built with your brain in mind.
Your communication style is valid
→ Whether or not you make eye contact or express things the way others expect, that doesn’t mean you’re not listening or engaging. Your way is still a good way.
Mistakes don’t mean failure
→ Kyle’s message is clear: making mistakes — in learning, performance, or communication — is part of discovery. You deserve an environment where mistakes are allowed and even encouraged.
Key Takeaways for Peers, Supporters, and Parents
Lead with curiosity, not judgement
→ Instead of assuming someone’s disinterested or difficult, ask: How might they be experiencing this differently?
Highlight strengths as much as needs
→ Whether you're a parent talking to a teacher or a teammate noticing a colleague’s differences — make sure people know what that individual brings to the table, not just what they might need support with.
You don’t need to have all the answers — just an open mind
→ Inclusion doesn’t require perfection. What it needs most is patience, respect, and the willingness to adjust.
Key Takeaways for Coaches, Leaders, and Organisations
You are already coaching neurodivergent athletes
→ Neurodivergence isn’t rare — it’s just rarely recognised. Don’t wait for a diagnosis to adapt your approach.
Emotional intelligence isn’t optional — but it is learnable
→ You don’t have to be naturally gifted at empathy. But if you’re willing to reflect, adapt, and ask questions, you can become the kind of coach athletes want to run through walls for.
Inclusion is a mindset, not a budget
→ You don’t need fancy equipment or new facilities. You need training, understanding, and a commitment to creating safety and belonging.
Originally a recorded interview, this blog post was written by Caragh McMurtry. Subheadings were added by the Neurodiverse Sport team to support readability.
