 2006 High School Playoff Game Photo: Mark Porter Scouting Ohio Joel YounkinsHigh Performance Coach A couple weeks ago, I wrote about what powerlifting taught me about motocross. You can check that out right here.
Since there are always lessons to be learned—from experiences, people, sports, and places—I thought it’d be fitting to share what football taught me about motocross as well. You could say I was born into racing. Two days after I left the hospital as a newborn, I was at one of my dad’s races. My father, Gary, rode for Team Penton in the ‘70s and collected multiple Gold Medals for the Trophy Team at the International Six Days Enduro (ISDE). I always thought dirt bikes were awesome and loved going to the races. My first bike was a PW50, and I rode many different bikes growing up. My parents never pushed me to race or play sports, but I naturally gravitated toward football, basketball, and racing at different points throughout my youth. For one reason or another, football ended up being the sport I excelled at most. I was even “forced into early retirement” from racing at 16 years old. College recruiters and my high school coaches didn’t love the idea of me riding dirt bikes on weekends. But this blog isn’t really about me—it’s about what football taught me, and how I’ve used those lessons to help the racers I coach today. I want to note: I never coached football. What I’m about to share is from the lens of a player—someone who started at 9 years old in peewee football and played all the way up through Division I college ball. To be honest, I’ve always felt like a bit of an outlier in my life. I’ve never really fit into the typical box. In the moto industry, most trainers either come from endurance backgrounds—cycling, running, mountain biking—or they’re former pro racers. That’s all fine; they have their experiences. But my background is different. I bring the perspective of someone who grew up around racing, but also went deep into the football world as well. And that gives me a very different lens on performance, preparation, and what it takes to win. Lesson 1: Expectations Matter for Success In high school, if we lost even one game, it felt like the world was ending. I played for a winning program—year after year, we were expected to win the conference and make a playoff run. That wasn’t just a goal, it was the standard. Every Friday night wasn’t about hoping to perform well—it was about upholding a legacy. The town had high expectations, and as players, we embraced the pressure that came with it. It forced us to prepare, show up, and play with a different level of urgency. When expectations are that clear, everything else—your habits, your effort, your mindset—follows suit. College was a different story. I went to a program that had been a conference contender in the Missouri Valley—a conference that I still believe is one of the toughest in college football. But during my time there, we were in the middle of a rebuild. We said we wanted to win. The goals were still written on the walls. But the expectations… they didn’t match the actions. You could sense that the team realized this reality and we didn't buy in as a team like we could have in my opinion. The difference between expecting to win and saying you want to win is massive. That lesson sticks with me to this day—and it’s something I bring into motocross. If a rider doesn’t expect to win, if their team doesn’t carry themselves with that standard, everything from their training to their mindset will fall short. There’s a huge difference between showing up to compete… and showing up to dominate. Winning starts with the standard you set long before race day. Lesson 2: Prepare to Win In football, the more talented team doesn’t always win. It’s usually the team that’s more prepared. Preparation was multifaceted—practice, film study, game planning, walk-throughs, and taking care of your body. It wasn’t just about showing up and banging heads all week hoping you’d be ready by Friday. There was a process, and if you followed it, you put yourself in a position to win. The teams that were more locked in during the week were usually the ones with the score board in their favor when the clock hit zero. Oftentimes, coaches would threaten to bench us if Tuesday’s practice was trash—but we all knew the truth. What really mattered was how we showed up on game day. You didn’t need to “win” practice, but you better be preparing to win the game. You much rather have a bad Tuesday practice than a bad Friday night game. It’s the same in motocross. Some riders ride themselves into the ground during the week and then wonder why they’re flat on race day. Practice isn’t the show. Training isn’t the main event. All of it is there to build you up so when it’s time to perform, you’re race ready. The job isn’t to train the hardest—it’s to train the smartest, cover all your basis, and show up ready to execute when it counts. Lesson 3: Winning is a Team Sport They say football is the ultimate team sport — because if even one out of the eleven doesn’t do their job, the play usually falls apart. Everyone has a role. Everyone’s responsibility matters. Now I get it — racing is technically an individual sport. There’s only one rider on the bike. But after years in this game, I’ve seen enough to tell you it takes a true team to climb to the top and stay there. I’ve worked with some of the best racers on the planet, and I’ve seen them frustrated. Not always because of their own performance — but because of the chaos, miscommunication, or lack of support surrounding them. I’ve seen riders in the points lead with tension in their corner. I’ve seen super-talented riders missing races because they didn’t have the right people around them. So yeah, it’s just you when the gate drops — but the truth is, racing is more of a team sport than it ever gets credit for. And if the people around you don’t know how to win? It’s going to be a long season. Lesson 4: Be an Athlete Football isn’t the most technical sport in the world. Sure, there’s a lot of skill and strategy involved, but what separates most players is their physical prowess. Being more athletic, bigger, stronger, and faster gives you a clear edge over your competition. There’s a reason that when you walk into a D1 football program, the athletes look different. Watch practice at a D3 school, then watch one at a top D1 program — you’ll see the difference. It’s not just about their VO2 Maxes or who has better endurance. It’s about being a superior athlete. Who cares who has better endurance in the 4th quarter when the score is 56-7. Motocross and off-road racing are obviously much more technical sports. There’s a high degree of feel and precision involved. But if you take two racers with similar skillsets, I’ll take the more athletic one every single time. Athleticism translates to better movement, quicker reaction times, better force absorption, injury prevention, and more capacity to handle what racing throws at you. Like in football, you don’t build athleticism just by logging hours of endurance work. You build it by developing systems — explosive power, force absorption, coordination, reaction time, strength. Endurance is the easy part. The real edge comes when you build a racer into a true athlete. Lesson 5: Train Racers Like Racers Back when I first got into coaching — not long after finishing my college football career — I used to hear little comments float back to me. Things like, “He trains racers like football players.” Honestly, in my mid-twenties and even with a much more fragile ego than I have now, I actually found those comments comical. If that’s what they believed, I knew they were nowhere near my radar in this space. It was clear they didn’t understand what real athletic development looks like. Because just like you train a football player to play football, you train a racer to race. And even in football, you don’t train a lineman the same way you train a wide receiver. Different athletes. Different demands. Different approach. That’s called athlete profiling. Sure, all athletes benefit from squatting, aerobic work, and plyometrics. But it’s not about what you do — it’s about why and how you do it. A mechanic and an electrician both use screwdrivers — same tool, totally different jobs. That’s how training works too. You can’t just look at an exercise and assume who it’s for. You have to know the athlete, their sport, their demands, and the goal behind every single rep. You build programs for racers to become better racers, that's the entire focus. Something Different Now, don’t get me wrong—I’ve got my own issues with football. It’s far from perfect, and some of its traditions can hold back progress. I’m not saying it’s better than racing or anything like that. In fact, these days, I spend 90% more time focusing on racers than football players—and that’s by choice. But these experiences have given me a unique perspective. I believe the best way to get an edge is by looking beyond your sport, learning from other worlds, and applying what works. Most moto trainers come from cycling or racing backgrounds. Nothing wrong with that. But I come from a place where discipline, structure, and high standards weren’t optional — they were the baseline. Football taught me how to build systems, shape culture, and prepare athletes to perform when it matters. That mindset is what sets my coaching apart. It’s not just about fitness. It’s about building complete racers — from the ground up.
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