Five minutes after practice. That is the entire system. You kick 60 balls, your memory compresses them into a feeling, and by Thursday the feeling lies to you. A practice log is how you keep the truth — which kicks were clean, in what wind, with what thought — so your improvement runs on evidence instead of vibes. If you are skeptical, good. Skeptics make the best journalers once the numbers show up.
Disclosure: Heads up that some links in this post are affiliate links — if you buy through them I may earn a commission at no extra cost to you. It supports Kickers of Earth, and I only recommend gear I would tell a teammate to buy.
Why Memory Loses to a Log
Here is what happens without a log. You leave practice feeling “off.” Two days later you are not sure whether it was contact, plant, or just a Tuesday. A week later the feeling has merged with the other ten sessions, and the actual lesson is gone. Now the same version: you leave practice, write five lines, and on Friday you can see that your right-hash kicks improved two weeks in a row while your mid-range contact went sloppy the week you started lifting heavy. That is a coachable pattern. Feelings do not produce those. Records do.
There is also a mental benefit that sneaks up on you. Writing down what happened closes the loop on the session, the same way a good film session does. You park the work on paper, and your brain stops rehearsing it at midnight.
Eric made the case for why every athlete needs this habit — it is one of the most-shared videos on the channel:
What to Log: The 5-Minute Template
A journal fails when it becomes homework. Five lines, five minutes, done. Here is the template I would use:
- Date, location, surface. Turf, grass, wet or dry. Surfaces hide patterns.
- Kick count and distances. How many, from where. Volume is context for everything else — and it is the number that protects you from overuse, which is why the kick count guide treats it as its own discipline.
- Conditions. Wind direction and speed, temperature. One line.
- Contact quality. A 1-to-5 rating, plus one sentence on what it felt like. This is the column that predicts your misses.
- The one fix. The single cue that worked today. Not five. One.
- Honesty on how you felt. Nerves, energy, focus, life stuff. A “7, felt rushed after class” entry explains a rough session better than any swing analysis.
That is the whole template. On game days, one extra line: kicks made, operation timing felt fast/normal/slow.
Where the Weekly Patterns Hide
The log pays you at the weekly review, Sunday night, ten minutes with the week’s entries side by side. Three questions:
- What improved? One thing. If nothing improved in two weeks, your practice design needs a look, and the log is telling you that.
- What repeats? The same contact complaint three sessions in a row is not a coincidence — it is a technique item with your name on it.
- What is missing? No right-hash kicks all week? No wind reps? The log shows you the gaps your sessions leave behind.
Eric does a live version of this review on his own kicks in this video — the breakdown of a full session, logged and charted, is exactly what yours should look like at the end of a week:
The Journal and Your Film, Together
A written log and video feed each other. The log tells you which rep to watch; the film tells you why it looked that way. If you film on a phone tripod and tag your notes with timestamps, your journal becomes a searchable record of your technique over months — that is the full system in the kicking film study guide, and the log is its memory.
Practically: jot your five lines on the field or in the car, then watch three clips on your phone that same night. Ten minutes total. The kicker who does this for a season has something no camp can sell them — a personal database of how their swing responds to fatigue, weather, and nerves.
What a Log Should Never Become
Guard against the failure modes:
- Homework energy. If you start dreading it, cut it to three lines. The tool serves the training, not the reverse.
- Grades on your identity. The log records kicks, not worth. A bad entry is data, and reading it back should feel neutral.
- Numbers without action. Every weekly review ends with one decision for next week. If a month of logging produces no single change, you are collecting data, not using it.
- Sharing it for reactions. This is your ledger, not content. Keep it for you.
The focus side of writing things down is real, too — athletes who offload details onto paper think more cleanly between kicks. That is the argument in the tools to stay focused guide.
Getting Set Up
You need almost nothing. A cheap notebook that lives in your bag beats a beautiful app you never open — but honestly, the notes app on your phone works fine too. If you prefer paper and want something to keep in your gym bag all season, a simple hardcover notebook from Amazon plus a pen that clips to it is the whole investment. The tool does not matter. The five minutes does.
Your First Week, Mapped Out
Start Monday. Five lines after every session, no exceptions. Sunday: read the week back in ten minutes and answer the three review questions. Pick one fix for next week. Repeat. By the third week you will catch yourself mid-session saying “I need to log this” — that is the moment the journal stops being a task and starts being a tool.
And if you want an outside set of eyes on what your log and your film are saying — the pattern you cannot see from inside your own season — that is exactly what remote coaching is for. Bring your journal, bring your clips, and we will find your next fix together: book a session here.
