Introduction | That Moment on a Saturday Morning When You Can’t Help Comparing
On a Saturday morning, watching your child’s match, there’s always “that kid” who catches your eye.
The one who beats opponents with the ball at their feet, who finishes their chances, who stands a head above everyone else on the team.
And as you watch, somewhere in the back of your mind, a thought slips in:
“Wow, that kid is really good. Compared to them, my child…”
This is a feeling I hear about often when talking with parents, and I think it’s a completely natural one. You watch closely because you care about your child’s progress — and because you want the best for them, it’s only natural that other kids’ performances catch your eye too.
Today, though, I’d like to look at this idea of “comparing” from a slightly different angle.
Comparing Isn’t a Bad Thing
The first thing I want to say is this: you don’t need to be hard on yourself for comparing.
Whenever we evaluate something, we need a reference point. When you watch your child play and think “they’re doing well” or “they still have a way to go,” that reference point is usually “other kids around the same age.”
Youth football, in particular, means weekly matches and weekly opportunities to watch other children play. In that environment, comparison is almost inevitable.
The real issue isn’t the comparison itself — it’s what conclusions we draw from it.
It’s Not Just Parents Who Notice “That Kid”
Here, I want to add another important point.
The feeling of “that kid is so good, but my child…” isn’t limited to parents on the sideline. Children on the pitch feel exactly the same thing.
“Wow, [a teammate] is really good at dribbling.” “I can’t do that.” “I wish I could score like [another teammate].” Kids compare themselves with the people around them from a surprisingly young age — and not because anyone taught them to. It comes naturally.
There’s something else, too. Children are remarkably sensitive to how their parents react.
On the drive home, a parent might casually say, “[That kid] was amazing again today.” It might be meant simply as praise for that other child. But for the child sitting quietly in the back seat, it can land very differently — as a sign that “nothing was said about me today.”
In other words, comparison isn’t only happening inside a parent’s head. It builds up quietly — within the child themselves, and within the relationship between parent and child.
So as we go through the rest of this article, I’d like you to keep in mind that what follows applies not only to how parents think, but also to the worries children themselves may be carrying.
What I’ve Seen Happen Later | Kids Selected for the National Training Squad, and Kids Who Weren’t
Let me share something from my own experience in football.
When I was in elementary school, there were players selected for regional squads or the national training programme. At the time, there was no doubt — those kids were “good.” Their dribbling, their finishing — they were a step or two ahead of everyone else.
But looking at what happened to them over the years, not all of them kept progressing at the same rate. As they moved into junior high and high school, some of those names quietly disappeared. The reasons varied — differences in the pace of physical growth, technical gaps closing as others caught up, or simply a shift in how much they loved the game.
On the other hand, I’ve also seen plenty of the opposite.
Players who weren’t particularly outstanding in elementary school, who were never selected for any regional squad, suddenly took off in high school or university — and eventually became professionals. The classic “late bloomers.”
Having watched both of these patterns play out up close, there’s one thing I feel strongly:
Whether a child is “good right now” and “how far they’ll go in the future” are not necessarily the same thing.
The pace of growth, and the timing of when a player peaks, really does vary from person to person. Some kids develop quickly; others develop more slowly but keep improving over a much longer period. The “gap” you see at elementary school age is just a snapshot at that moment in time — it doesn’t determine that child’s future.
If You’re Going to Compare, Zoom Out | The Difference Between Japan and New Zealand
Here’s another angle on “comparison” worth considering.
If you really want to compare something, comparing country to country — rather than child to child — reveals something interesting.
I’ve spent time in youth football environments in both Japan and New Zealand. Honestly, when it comes to technical fundamentals — ball control, dribbling, first touch, passing and receiving — children in Japan are often noticeably further ahead at the same age.
As I’ve written about in previous articles, Japan has a culture that places a strong emphasis on technical training from a very young age, with many specialised football schools. New Zealand, by contrast, has a culture built more around play and games, where children typically experience several sports side by side.
So yes — at this stage, there is a real difference between children in Japan and children in New Zealand.
And to be clear, this isn’t about saying Japan is “better.” If you looked at this from the perspective of Europe or South America instead, I’m sure you’d find a whole different set of differences again.
What Happens to That “Gap” by the Time They’re Adults?
Here’s where it gets interesting.
This gap doesn’t stay the same all the way into adulthood. In fact, as players get older, it gradually narrows — and eventually becomes hard to even notice.
Why?
In New Zealand, children begin to show their physical strength, the athleticism built from playing multiple sports, and their comfort with intensity on a big pitch, especially in the later years of youth football. Meanwhile, the technically advanced players from Japan face a new challenge of their own: can they use those technical skills faster, against stronger opponents, in real match situations?
By the time players reach senior level, the simple question of “who’s better” stops meaning very much. Each country’s development system has nurtured different strengths, at different times, in different ways.
When the way players are raised is different, both the timing and the shape of their growth will be different too.
And I think this applies just as much to comparisons between individual children.
From “Comparing” to “Observing”
So far, we’ve covered two ideas:
Even at the individual level, the pace of growth varies from person to person.
Even at the national level, when the way children are raised is different, a “gap” seen at one point in time will change over time.
Both of these point to something simple:
A “difference from others” observed at a single point in time is far less certain than it feels.
So what should we actually be paying attention to?
I believe it’s not “that kid” — but “your child, six months ago.”
Maybe their first touch has gotten calmer. Maybe they used to shy away from physical contact, and now they go into it themselves. Maybe they used to play with their head down, and now they’re looking up and around.
You’ll never notice these changes by comparing your child to “that kid.” They only become visible once you shift the comparison from “someone else” to “your child’s own past self.”
Giving Your Child the Same Perspective
Everything up to this point has been about how you, as a parent, can rethink your own habit of comparing. But I believe this perspective is something you can pass on to your child too.
When your child says something like, “[That kid] is so good, I’m no good at all,” it’s tempting to respond with “That’s not true, you’re doing great!” That comes from a place of kindness — but to a child, it can sometimes feel like you haven’t really heard them.
In moments like that, there’s another way to respond:
“I don’t really know how you compare to [that kid] — but how do you feel you’ve changed compared to six months ago?”
This question gives your child a chance to shift their own reference point — away from other people, something they can’t control, and toward their past self, someone who has genuinely changed over time.
If a child can start to hold onto this perspective from a young age, it won’t just help them in football. It can become a way of thinking that supports them in all kinds of situations, throughout their life.
Conclusion | No One Knows How Fast a Child Will Grow
“That kid is so good, but my child…”
When that thought comes to mind, it’s a sign that you’re watching your child closely. That feeling, in itself, is nothing to feel bad about.
And there’s a good chance your child has felt something similar themselves.
But no one can know what that “difference” will mean in five or ten years. Through football, I’ve seen this uncertainty play out again and again.
Some kids bloom early. Others bloom slowly. And when the environment a child grows up in is different, the timing of their growth will be different too.
So the next time you feel the urge to “compare” — whether it’s in your own mind, or in conversation with your child — try shifting the target just slightly. Not “that kid,” but “you, six months ago.”
I think that’s where you’ll start to see the progress your child is really making.
