Joy of the People’s Ted Kroeten introduced linguist Stephen Krashen, and Krashen’s second language learning theory on the Talent Equation podcast. Theories do not necessarily transfer across disciplines, especially disciplines as diverse as language learning and motor learning, but theories from one can inform theories or ideas in another. The second language learning theory is a nice theoretical background from which to test the validity of play as the primary or initial route to learning motor and sports skills.
Krashen’s theory is based on five hypotheses, the most prominent of which is the acquisition-learning hypothesis. He suggested we develop language proficiency in two ways: Acquisition and learning. Acquisition is a subconscious process, much as children develop their first language. Learning is a conscious process learned through lessons focused on grammar and structure. Acquisition leads to fluency, whereas learning focuses on accuracy.
I took Swedish language classes when I lived in Sweden. We practiced grammar: Conjugating verbs, learning pronouns, memorizing important words, etc. I took classes at least twice per week until I gave up in the spring and moved in with a retiree and his wife. I skipped school and golfed with my host father, who only spoke Swedish with me, refusing to speak English although he had lived in California and spoke English perfectly. I learned more Swedish on the golf course than in classes. Today, I understand my Swedish players and speak some Swedish with them. I do not speak properly; I misuse words, mistake pronouns, do not conjugate verbs correctly, but I can communicate in their native language and often understand when they speak to each other. In Kashen’s hypothesis, I acquired some fluency, which I retained for 20 years, but I did not learn the accuracy; I would fail a Swedish language test.
Is accuracy or fluency more important when learning motor or sports skills? Do we need conscious understanding of our movements? The adult perspective is we must understand consciously what we are doing in order to do it because that is how adults interact with their environment or believe they interact with their environment. Despite this belief, most people eschew the directions when setting up a TV or putting together their furniture. We play with the parts and learn through trial and error. We may not be able to explain our process to another person, but we likely can repeat the process more quickly next time. I cannot tell my girlfriend how to fix the problem when our television stops working, but I can fix the issue in a few seconds with the remote. I am fluent in setting up the television without having learned the precise steps consciously.
Somewhere on YouTube, a shooting instructor interviewed NBA players and asked about their shooting techniques. The instructor spliced clips of the players shooting with different techniques than those they described. This demonstrated their lack of awareness; of course, they were some of the NBA’s best shooters who very clearly know how to shoot. The lack of knowledge was viewed as a flaw or a problem, but is it? Would Stephen Curry or Kyle Korver shoot better if he consciously understood his body’s movements at every moment (Of course, techniques change; Curry’s shot is not the same on every attempt, and he may attempt to shoot as he explained, but external forces — speed, defense, the pass, the dribble, the distance — may change the desired technique)?
The players shoot fluently; they acquired the ability to shoot, but they did not necessarily learn the skill. They acquired the skill subconsciously rather than consciously (or, maybe they learned the skill consciously so many years ago the memory faded into their subconscious, and they no longer understand their own shot consciously).
The idea players acquire skills fluently, without conscious or explicit knowledge and information, is supported by the research of Rich Masters (1992), who has argued it is unnecessary for the athlete to be conscious of micro-details in the early stages of learning and should avoid explicit learning, rules, and knowledge. Research into the implicit learning of motor skills has shown more stable performance in conditions of psychological stress (Masters, 1992; Mullen et al., 2007) and greater retention (Poolton et al., 2007). Furthermore, a recent study suggested children with superior implicit learning abilities in early learning phases may learn more motor skills in a shorter time period as compared to other children (Verburgh et al., 2016).
Using the second-language learning theory as a framework, and specifically the acquisition-learning hypothesis, children gain fluency through play. Children acquire knowledge and procedures subconsciously when they play a sport informally; they learn implicitly, rather than learning through direct instructions and repetitions. They do not revert to conscious control when faced with pressure situations because they did not learn through conscious control; in most instances, they perform better without this conscious interference.
As children develop and acquire fluency with movement or a specific sport, they transition to a team or coach who improves their accuracy. They learn more specific moves or plays; this specificity and accuracy improves their fluency.
We played a lot of pickup games and three-vs-three when I was in high school. We set on-ball screens although those were forbidden with our school teams. We learned to use on-ball screens through play, and I became adept at recognizing switches quickly and delivering a behind-the-back pass to the roller. These are skills I was never taught formally; no coach broke down the correct technique of a behind-the-back pass. We acquired fluency with the behind-the-back pass and the pick and roll through play.
When I moved to Europe, and on-ball screens were a part of our offense, we practiced on-ball screens and received some instruction (although most of the practice was two-vs-two games). I learned how to attack different defenses with different moves and decisions. We learned to move to specific positions to exploit specific defenses. We learned the specificity and structure to utilize our fluency, much as a native speaker learns proper grammar to communicate more successfully.
Typically, we believe classes and lessons teach a second language; every school teaches foreign languages in this way. Most argue the best way to learn a second language is to immerse oneself in the language; move there. I took 11 years of Spanish classes and know less Spanish than I do Swedish, despite taking roughly six months of Swedish classes. I lived in Sweden; I have never lived in a Spanish-speaking country.
Similarly, adults believe children need coaches and lessons before playing the game, but most adults over the age of 40 learned to play sports differently. We played at recess or after school or in the neighborhood, and after showing some enthusiasm or aptitude for a sport, we joined a team or league. Today, children join lessons as young as three years old. Will they develop fluency if everything is taught explicitly with adult supervision? Will children enjoy the sport in the same way as those who develop fluency through play? Are we robbing children of their best initial learning experiences in our short-sighted attempts to advance them more quickly? Does it matter if one understands the grammar, but does not know any words or how to communicate?
Again, a theory in one discipline does not explain a different discipline, but the second-language learning theory provides an interesting framework. Would we develop better, more skilled players by allowing children more time to develop their fluency on their own rather than seeking out lessons and coaching once they can walk? Is it better to acquire these skills than to learn them?
Excited to see that the newsletter is back. I have enjoyed your books, the newsletter, and the times I have seen you speak in person.
Looking forward to this. Always enjoyed your work, it has informed much of my coaching