Introducing Men’s Lacrosse Abroad: Challenges and Triumphs in a Foreign Land

There’s something surreal about walking into a field in a foreign country, lacrosse stick in hand, and seeing nothing but puzzled stares. The sun beats down, unfamiliar languages swirl around you, and you start wondering if you’ve just become a traveling salesman trying to pitch a game few have ever seen.

This is what it feels like to introduce men’s lacrosse to another country.

Lacrosse—or “lax,” as those of us in the know like to call it—is an art. A battle. It’s fast, it’s gritty, it’s raw. And as a coach, your job isn’t just to teach the drills or break down the playbook. You’re a translator, taking the spirit of the game and reshaping it for a completely different world. But here’s the kicker—you’re not just importing a sport. You’re selling a philosophy. But to sell it, first, you need sticks. Helmets. Gloves. Good luck with that.

It’s one thing to teach players the rules of the game. It’s a whole different challenge when you don’t have enough sticks to go around or the few you do have look like they’ve been through a world war. Lacrosse isn’t like soccer where you just need a ball and a field. It’s a sport of gear, and in most countries outside North America, lacrosse equipment is about as easy to find as a needle in a haystack.

Picture this: you’re in a small country, standing in front of a group of athletes who’ve never seen a lacrosse stick before, let alone tried to play with one. The kids who showed up in shorts and sneakers, ready to try this new sport, don’t know that the warped, taped-up sticks they’re holding will make their job infinitely harder. But you can’t tell them that. Not yet.

You improvise. Because you have to. You’re calling in favors from old teammates, reaching out to every lax company you know, hoping someone will send over a box of gear. When it finally arrives, the excitement is real—until you open it and realize half the sticks are held together with duct tape, the helmets are missing parts, and the gloves… well, they’ve seen better days. But it doesn’t matter. You make do because you’re not just coaching a sport. You’re building it from the ground up.

Running drills with old equipment isn’t glamorous. There’s nothing fun about teaching someone to throw and catch with a stick that should’ve been retired a decade ago. The ball doesn’t always go where it should, and the players are trying to figure out how to cradle when their stick feels more like a broom handle than a piece of sporting equipment. It’s frustrating. But it’s also where the magic happens.

Despite the challenges, you start to see something shift. One by one, the players get it. That first time someone makes a clean pass with a stick that’s barely holding together, you can see it in their eyes. They’re hooked. The gear might be ancient, but the game is alive. And that’s when you realize the equipment is secondary. Yes, it matters—good sticks, helmets, gloves, they all make a difference—but what really matters is the heart behind the game.

Over time, things get better. Maybe you manage to get a few new sticks. You teach the players how to string their own heads, showing them the craft of customizing their stick to their play style. You watch as the players start to care about their gear, even if it’s not top-of-the-line. They learn to work with what they have, to make that beaten-up old stick an extension of themselves. They adapt. Just like you did.

Eventually, you’ll have enough proper equipment for a full team. But in those early days, when the gear is scarce and the drills are basic, something incredible happens: the focus shifts to the fundamentals of the game. Ground balls, scooping, cradling, the basics. You teach them how to use their bodies, how to communicate, how to play smart. Lacrosse, after all, isn’t just about the stick or the helmet. It’s about instinct, strategy, and passion.

Introducing lacrosse to another country isn’t easy. The lack of gear, the strange looks, the initial resistance—it’s all part of the process. But when you see that first goal, that first clean pass, it’s all worth it. And sure, the sticks might be old, the helmets might be missing screws, but the game—the heart of lacrosse—is thriving.

And that’s when you know you’ve succeeded.