When did children's sports teams start needing marketing departments?
I'm genuinely asking.
Because somewhere along the way, we went from parents taking pictures of their kids playing sports to U8 and U10 teams having Instagram accounts, game-day graphics, player announcements and highlight reels.
And I'm not talking about teenagers pursuing college scholarships or athletes building a presence around potential sponsorship opportunities.
I'm talking about eight-year-olds.
Nine-year-olds.
Children who are still young enough that most social media platforms don't even allow them to have their own accounts.
Yet somehow, we've decided that publicly promoting them online is a normal part of participating in organized sports.
And I think we need to ask ourselves: What are we actually doing?
Not everything needs to be marketed.
I work in social media and marketing.
I understand why businesses need visibility. I understand audience development, brand awareness, content strategy and the commercial value of building an online presence.
I also understand why professional and major junior sports organizations invest in social media.
They have tickets to sell, sponsors to support, audiences to engage and business objectives to accomplish.
But a U9 hockey team?
A U10 soccer team?
A group of eight-year-olds playing baseball on Saturday mornings?
What exactly are we marketing?
Who is the intended audience?
And I know some of the common explanations:
- "It's so grandparents and extended family can follow along."
- "A family couldn't make the game and wanted to see what happened."
- "A parent had to work and wants an easy way to check in."
- "It's a way for friends and family who live far away to feel involved."
Those are all perfectly reasonable things to want.
Of course parents want to see what's happening when they can't be there. And of course families want to share their children's experiences with the people who care about them.
But I'd question whether a public Instagram account is actually the best way to accomplish that.
How many grandparents are regularly checking a U9 team's Instagram? How many extended family members are watching highlight reels or reading game-day announcements?
And for the parent who couldn't make the game, is a public player graphic or a Reel featuring someone else's child actually providing the update they were looking for?
I'd argue that a significant portion of the audience is probably the parents, players and families who were already at the game.
The same people who watched it happen.
They're liking, sharing and commenting on content featuring an experience they were already part of.
And there's nothing inherently wrong with that.
But it does make me question whether we're actually creating something useful for the audience we claim to be serving, or whether we've simply normalized publicly documenting children's activities because that's what everyone else is doing.
If most of the engagement is coming from people who were already there, what exactly are we accomplishing by making the content public?
And even if every grandparent, parent and family friend were watching, why does the content need to be available to everyone else?
Private team groups, shared photo albums, family group chats, game updates and password-protected platforms can all accomplish those things.
In many cases, they'd probably make the information easier to access too.
A parent working through their child's game might appreciate a quick update in a private team chat. Grandparents could receive a shared video. Families who missed the tournament could look through a private album afterward.
None of that requires publishing children's identities, activities and whereabouts for anyone on the internet to access.
Wanting people to see something doesn't automatically mean it needs to be available for everyone to see.
And if the goal is something beyond keeping families informed and sharing memories, I think we should be willing to acknowledge what that is.
Because there's a difference between celebrating a child's experience, keeping their family connected and turning that experience into ongoing public content.
"Everybody's doing it" isn't a strategy.
I suspect a lot of this comes down to keeping up with what other teams are doing.
One team starts an Instagram account.
Another sees it and decides they should have one too.
A parent volunteers to create graphics. Someone starts posting player highlights. The coach likes the attention the team is getting.
And suddenly there's an expectation that every team should have an online presence.
But why?
I've seen the explanations.
"It's just to celebrate the kids."
"The players love seeing themselves online."
"It's good exposure."
"All the competitive teams are doing it."
I'm sure some kids do love it.
A nine-year-old might be thrilled to see their face on a graphic that looks like something an NHL team would publish.
But a nine-year-old enjoying that attention doesn't mean they understand what it means to have their name, photo, team and activities available to strangers on the internet.
Children enjoying something isn't automatically evidence that it's in their best interests.
That's where adults are supposed to exercise judgment.
And I don't think "everybody's doing it" is a particularly compelling reason to make decisions about children's privacy.
"It's just a team Instagram. What's the big deal?"
I can already imagine some of the reactions to this article.
"It's not that serious."
"It's just for fun."
"You're overthinking it."
"It's a team Instagram account. What's the big deal?"
And I understand why people might feel that way.
Most of the content probably seems completely harmless. A team photo, a tournament recap, a kid celebrating a goal.
Individually, none of those things necessarily looks particularly concerning.
But I think that's exactly the point.
We've become so comfortable putting children online that we're quicker to explain why it's harmless than we are to question why we're doing it in the first place.
We're willing to publish enormous amounts of content featuring children, often with very little thought given to its actual purpose, audience or long-term implications.
And because the intentions are good, we convince ourselves that the risks aren't particularly serious.
But good intentions don't change how the internet works.
We're uploading children's photos, names, activities and personal information to platforms designed to distribute, retain and monetize content.
And while platform terms vary, they generally give companies broad permissions to host, process, reproduce and distribute uploaded material. That doesn't mean they own every image or can literally do anything they want with it, but it does mean families give up a degree of control over how that content is handled.
That's before considering the fact that public content can be downloaded, copied, redistributed or manipulated by people who have absolutely no connection to the child.
All for what?
A few likes from other hockey parents?
A nice-looking tournament graphic?
Another post celebrating a game that the majority of people engaging with it probably attended?
I'm not suggesting that every photo of a child on Instagram is dangerous or that parents should never share their children's accomplishments.
But I am questioning why we've made high-volume, low-purpose public content featuring children such a normal part of organized sports.
And why asking whether it's necessary is somehow treated as more unreasonable than doing it in the first place.
Maybe the fact that we've stopped thinking it's a big deal is exactly why we should be having this conversation.
Your child's digital footprint shouldn't be a team decision.
Here's something I think gets overlooked.
Some parents intentionally limit how much of their children they share online.
Maybe they have privacy concerns. Maybe there are personal safety considerations. Or maybe they simply believe their child should have more say in what becomes part of their public identity.
All perfectly reasonable.
But then their child joins a sports team with an active Instagram account.
Suddenly, the team wants to publish player profiles, game highlights, birthday posts, roster announcements and tournament updates.
And choosing not to participate can feel surprisingly uncomfortable.
Nobody wants their child to be the only one missing from the team graphic.
Nobody wants to be labelled the difficult parent.
And no child wants to feel excluded because their family has different boundaries around social media.
A family's decision not to publicly share their child shouldn't require an explanation.
And it certainly shouldn't have any bearing on how that child is treated within the team.
I also think we need to stop treating a signed media release as the end of the conversation.
Parents may give permission for their child's photo to be used in certain circumstances without fully understanding how frequently that content will be published, who will have access to it or how long it will remain online.
There's a difference between agreeing to a team photo and agreeing to have your child's entire season documented publicly.
Those shouldn't automatically be treated as the same permission.
Social media safety is about more than inappropriate comments.
When people raise concerns about posting children online, I think the conversation often goes straight to the obvious risks.
Strangers messaging children. Inappropriate comments. Cyberbullying.
All legitimate concerns.
But I think the bigger issue is how much personal information adults are making publicly available about children who have very little control over it.
Think about what a typical youth sports account might share.
A child's full name. Their face. Their age group. Their jersey number. The organization they play for.
Then add tournament schedules, arena locations, travel weekends and game-day updates.
Individually, those details might seem fairly harmless.
But together, they can reveal a surprising amount about a child's identity, activities and whereabouts.
And once something is published online, the family doesn't necessarily control where it goes.
Photos can be saved, shared, copied or republished.
They can also be altered.
And with the development of generative AI, we now have to consider how images and videos might be manipulated or used to create content that never existed in the first place.
This isn't just a theoretical concern. Organizations working in child protection have raised concerns about AI-generated image-based abuse involving young people.
I'm not suggesting that every team photo is going to be misused.
But I do think we need to acknowledge that the risks associated with publishing children's images have changed.
And those risks extend well beyond whether someone leaves an inappropriate comment.
We're creating digital identities for children before they can meaningfully participate in the decision.
This is probably the part that concerns me most.
Young children are having public identities created for them by adults.
Their photos, accomplishments, activities and personal information are being published and archived, sometimes for years.
And by the time they're old enough to understand what a digital footprint actually means, much of that information may already be out there.
UNICEF's guidance on sharing children's information online encourages parents to think carefully about children's privacy and involve them in decisions about what gets shared.
That distinction matters.
A child saying, "Yes, I want to be on Instagram!" isn't the same as understanding who can access their content, what can happen to it or how they might feel about it years later.
And I think it's worth considering whether we're teaching children that public attention is simply part of participating in sports.
That being celebrated means being posted.
That recognition requires an audience.
Or that the most exciting moments of their childhood somehow become more meaningful when strangers can see them.
I don't think that's a message we should be reinforcing.
Especially when the children involved are too young to make informed decisions about the exposure adults are creating for them.
What about coaches who say social media is necessary for exposure?
This is where I'd push back.
Because I don't think a coach's desire to promote a team should automatically outweigh a family's concerns about privacy.
And I would be particularly skeptical of anyone suggesting that U8, U10 or U12 players need public social media exposure to advance in their sport.
Exposure to whom?
For what purpose?
What specific opportunities are being created?
If the answer is that scouts, recruiters or agents might notice the players, I'd want to understand whether that's actually happening and whether those opportunities are appropriate for children at that age.
There's nothing wrong with a coach being proud of their team.
But a coach's job is to support player development, create a positive environment and help children enjoy participating in their sport.
Not every team needs to operate like a professional sports organization.
And I think parents should feel comfortable questioning any suggestion that public social media participation is necessary to demonstrate commitment to a program.
A child shouldn't have to be publicly visible to be treated as a valued member of their team.
And what about the kids who genuinely want to build a presence?
I think this is an important distinction.
Because I'm not suggesting that every young athlete should be discouraged from using social media.
As players get older, their interests and goals change.
A teenager might genuinely enjoy creating content, sharing their development or connecting with people who share their interests.
An older competitive athlete might have a specific reason to make game footage or player information accessible.
And eventually, some athletes may want to explore sponsorships, NIL opportunities or personal branding.
Those can all be legitimate reasons to develop an online presence.
But I think we need to separate a young person making an age-appropriate, informed decision about their own visibility from adults deciding that an entire team of children should be publicly promoted.
They're not the same situation.
And even when a child wants an account, it doesn't mean every aspect of their sporting life needs to be shared.
Families can establish boundaries around what gets posted, who can contact the player and which information remains private.
Those boundaries can also change as the child gets older.
The goal shouldn't be to prevent young athletes from ever having an online presence. It should be to make sure that presence is appropriate, intentional and genuinely in their interests.
What should parents be asking their child's sports organization?
I think every organization operating a public social media account featuring children should be able to answer a few basic questions.
And parents shouldn't feel uncomfortable asking them.
- Why does the team need a public account? What purpose does it serve that couldn't be accomplished through private team communication?
- What information is being shared? Photos, names, jersey numbers, locations, schedules or individual player profiles?
- Who manages the account? Who has access to the content, messages and account credentials?
- What happens to the content? Can photos be reused, shared with sponsors or retained after the season?
- Can families opt out? And will that decision be respected without affecting their child's participation?
- Is there a social media policy? Does it explain how the organization protects children's privacy and handles concerns?
I'd also ask whether the organization distinguishes between permission to use a team photo and permission to create ongoing promotional content featuring individual children.
Because I don't think those should be treated as interchangeable.
And if a team doesn't have clear answers?
Maybe that's an indication that its approach to social media needs some reconsideration.
We can celebrate kids without marketing them.
I don't think most parents, coaches or volunteers running these accounts have bad intentions.
I suspect the opposite.
They're proud of the kids. They want to recognize their accomplishments. They enjoy creating content, and they genuinely believe they're contributing something positive.
I understand that.
But good intentions don't automatically make every decision a good one.
I work in social media and marketing. I understand what it means to build an audience, create visibility and promote an organization.
And that's exactly why I question whether we should be applying those same principles to children's sports.
Take the photos. Celebrate the wins. Share the memories with family and friends.
I don't think anyone is suggesting that children shouldn't be celebrated or that parents shouldn't be proud of them.
But there's a difference between sharing those experiences with people who care about your child and publishing them to an unrestricted audience because that's become the norm.
And I think we owe children more consideration than simply deciding it's harmless because everyone else is doing it.
Not everything needs an audience. And not every accomplishment needs to become public content.
At the end of the day, these are children playing sports.
They aren't brands. Their teams aren't marketing departments. And their childhood experiences don't need to become part of an ongoing content strategy.
Maybe instead of asking why anyone would have a problem with a team Instagram account, we should start asking why we assume every team needs one.
For more guidance on youth sports, social media safety and athlete visibility, visit the Player Partnerships Parents Hub.