It started with a whistle I wasn’t ready to blow.

I had always wanted to coach. I just never quite felt ready.

Then my daughter signed up for soccer, and I volunteered to help as an assistant. When nobody stepped forward to lead the team, someone handed me the whistle.

For a sport I hadn’t played, watched, or coached.

If you’ve seen Ted Lasso, you get the idea.

I made do with what I had, learned as I went, and eventually found my way to the sports I knew better: basketball and baseball.

Over time, our teams started winning. But somewhere along the way, I began to notice something that bothered me.

The complaining. The blaming. The pressure to win at all costs. The way a game that was supposed to help kids grow could sometimes bring out the worst in them.

Then came a moment I couldn’t shake.

Two boys I had coached for years got into a fight while chasing a loose ball. My own kids weren’t involved, but I knew both boys. I had watched them grow up on the court. And I couldn’t stop thinking about how we had gotten there.

I started asking myself a harder question: What was I really teaching these kids?

It’s easy to talk about teamwork, effort, and sportsmanship. It’s harder to live those things when the game gets tense, a teammate makes a mistake, or winning starts to feel like everything.

I came to believe that if I wasn’t helping change the culture, I was allowing it to continue.

Something had to change.

A different kind of playbook

I began looking for a better way to coach—one that put character before the scoreboard and cared as much about who a child was becoming as how the team performed.

I found a community that shared that vision. It helped me see that sports could be about so much more than competition. They could be a place to practice patience, courage, humility, responsibility, and service.

That became the heart of The Peculiar Playbook.

These stories grew out of the lessons I was trying to teach my own players and children. They use the familiar world of youth sports to explore ideas kids can carry into friendships, school, family life, and whatever challenges come their way.

In The Tallest Heart, for example, Clark learns that there is a difference between simply reacting to the atmosphere around you and helping change it. You can be a thermometer, reflecting the temperature of a room, or a thermostat, helping set it.

It’s a basketball lesson, but it’s also a life lesson.

What if we taught kids that they can bring encouragement instead of complaints, take responsibility instead of blame, and help others become better instead of worrying only about themselves?

What if the most important measure of a season wasn’t just what happened on the scoreboard, but what happened in the hearts of the people who played it?

That’s the kind of playbook I want to share.

At the center of it all is faith

My Christian faith is at the center of this series.

I believe every child is fearfully and wonderfully made—created on purpose and for a purpose. Every child has dignity and worth that no scoreboard, statistic, mistake, or achievement can measure.

Sports can be a wonderful place to practice the things that matter most: loving your neighbor, serving without needing recognition, taking responsibility, showing grace, and choosing what is right even when it isn’t easy.

The name The Peculiar Playbook comes from the biblical idea of belonging to God and being set apart for Him. In 1 Peter 2:9, Scripture describes God’s people as a chosen people, called to reflect His light.

To me, being peculiar means choosing a different way when the world tells you to keep score. It means encouraging when others criticize, serving when others seek recognition, and remembering that how we treat people matters more than what we achieve.

The truth is, 99% of kids will never play professional sports. But every child will have opportunities to lead, to serve, to persevere, and to make a difference in someone else’s life.

Those are lessons worth practicing.

And they last long after the final whistle.

The legacy behind the stories

This series is dedicated to my grandmother, Mary Ignoffo.

Grandma Mary was a singer, a writer, a woman of deep faith, and a servant at heart. She had a way of making the important things simple—not necessarily easy, but simple. Love God. Serve others. Follow the Good Shepherd. Leave your mark on people, not things.

She lived those lessons long before I tried to put them into a children’s book.

On the last day of her life, she told me she wanted to see my stories. I have carried those words with me ever since.

In many ways, I’m writing these books for her—and for the One she spent her life pointing me toward.

I hope these stories honor her by passing along a little of what she gave so freely: faith, encouragement, kindness, and the reminder that a life well lived is measured by the love we leave behind.

Let’s build something that lasts

I’m a husband, a dad of three, and a coach who is still learning. At home, on the court, and in life, I’m reminded that the real masterpiece is always under construction.

That’s what I hope The Peculiar Playbook can be: a starting point for conversations between children and the adults who guide them. A way to make character lessons memorable, faith practical, and everyday moments opportunities to grow.

Whether you’re a parent reading with your child, a coach building a team, or an educator helping young people discover who they can become, I’m glad you’re here.

Explore The Tallest Heart, discover the activities and discussion guides, and find a few ways to bring these lessons into your own home, classroom, or team.

Because the game is bigger than the scoreboard.

And the best things we build are the things that last.

Keep building your masterpiece.

— Joey Ignoffo