Role models in sport: The good, the bad, and the complicated

When we think about sport, role models are everywhere. From the posters that line the walls of kids’ bedrooms, to the way adults discuss their favourite footballers in the pub, athletes sit in a unique cultural space. They are admired, imitated, and often placed on pedestals, sometimes unfairly. And while role models can inspire people of all ages to push themselves harder, to stay committed, or to believe in what’s possible, there is a flipside too. The truth is that athletes aren’t perfect. They are human, flawed, and often caught in the heat of competitive pressure. And the way they behave—good or bad—can ripple down to those who look up to them.

Research has long shown that role models play a significant part in shaping behaviour and values. Bandura’s (1977) Social Learning Theory is one of the most well-known frameworks here. It suggests that we learn not just from direct experience, but by observing others. We watch, we imitate, and if the behaviour is reinforced or seems to carry status, we’re more likely to adopt it ourselves. This isn’t just relevant to children. Adults too continue to model themselves on those they admire, especially in contexts they care deeply about. For the weekend golfer, watching Rory McIlroy’s swing isn’t just entertainment—it’s instruction. For the tennis enthusiast, Serena Williams’ resilience is something to emulate.

What this tells us is that role models in sport carry influence across the lifespan. Adolescents are, of course, especially impressionable. Studies suggest that young athletes often mirror the behaviours and attitudes of their sporting heroes (Bricheno & Thornton, 2007). But adults are not immune either. Even seasoned recreational athletes might find themselves copying the mannerisms, routines, or even the outbursts of the professionals they admire.

This brings us to the double-edged nature of sporting role models. On the one hand, the positives are obvious. Athletes can embody hard work, dedication, resilience, and composure under pressure. When I work with adolescent clients, I often use role models to highlight these traits. For example, a footballer who recovers from an injury and comes back stronger can be a living example of persistence. A tennis player who digs deep to win a match after being two sets down can showcase resilience and mental strength. These stories carry weight because they are visible and real. They aren’t abstract ideas about “trying hard” or “staying positive”—they are lived examples, played out in front of millions.

However, it’s not always so straightforward. For every display of professionalism and grit, there are moments that make headlines for the wrong reasons. Tennis is a classic example. Racket smashing, shouting at umpires, or storming off court are hardly rare, even at the very top of the game. Golf has its moments too, with players snapping clubs in frustration or throwing tantrums on the fairway. For young players watching, these behaviours can send the message that such outbursts are acceptable or even part of the sport. And because these moments often get replayed in highlight reels or shared online, their visibility can amplify their influence.

This matters because behaviour at the elite level filters down. Research into athlete behaviour suggests that children in particular are quick to normalise poor conduct if they see it in those they admire (Boardley & Kavussanu, 2007). Coaches and parents will recognise how often kids copy not only the technical skills of their heroes but also their mannerisms. You’ll see young footballers rolling around on the pitch after a foul, mimicking the dramatic dives they’ve watched on TV. While adults might be more discerning, they too can adopt unhelpful behaviours. Think of the club golfer who loses their temper on the course, perhaps subconsciously echoing the televised antics of a tour professional.

Of course, it would be unfair to expect athletes to be perfect all the time. The pressure they are under, the intensity of competition, and the scrutiny they face would test anyone. And perhaps this is part of the lesson too. Role models don’t have to be flawless. In fact, seeing them make mistakes can be useful if it sparks conversations about how we manage frustration, cope with setbacks, or handle the weight of expectation. As a sport psychologist, I often use these moments as teaching points. For example, I might talk to a young tennis player about how smashing a racket might feel satisfying in the moment but doesn’t help performance. Instead, we can explore strategies for managing anger and refocusing on the next point.

What’s also worth noting is that role models are not just elite athletes. At the recreational level, players also serve as role models within their communities. A respected captain in a local football team, or a highly skilled golfer at a club, can carry just as much influence in their environment as a superstar does on TV. People look up to those around them, and the same processes of observation and imitation apply. For some, the role models that matter most aren’t household names, but the teammate who trains consistently, or the older runner who keeps showing up week after week with quiet determination.

So, what do we take from all of this? Role models in sport are powerful. They can inspire, they can teach, and they can shape how people behave both on and off the pitch. But they can also reinforce behaviours that aren’t particularly helpful, especially when it comes to dealing with frustration or respecting the rules of the game. For me, the key is not to shy away from this complexity but to embrace it. Role models don’t need to be perfect, but they do need to be put into context. Helping athletes of all ages reflect on what behaviours are worth emulating, and which ones might be best left on the cutting room floor, is part of the role psychology can play in sport.

At the end of the day, we all look up to others, whether we’re twelve years old dreaming of Wimbledon or fifty years old trying to shave a few shots off our golf handicap. The trick is in choosing which parts of our role models we want to carry with us—and recognising that, sometimes, the best lessons come from their mistakes as much as from their triumphs.

Take-home points

Role models in sport influence people of all ages, not just children. Adults also model behaviours—both positive and negative—from the athletes they admire.

Athletes can be powerful examples of resilience, dedication, and confidence, but their negative behaviours, such as arguing with officials or smashing equipment, can be normalised by those watching.

Social Learning Theory explains how people imitate the behaviours they see, meaning athletes’ actions—whether inspiring or destructive—carry real weight.

Role models don’t have to be perfect. Their mistakes can actually provide valuable learning opportunities, if put into context and discussed.

Role models aren’t just elite athletes. Local players, teammates, and coaches can be just as influential within their own communities.

Ultimately, the key is in choosing which aspects of role models to emulate, and using psychology to help athletes reflect critically on the behaviours they see.

References

Bandura, A. (1977). Social learning theory. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall.

Boardley, I. D., & Kavussanu, M. (2007). Development and validation of the moral disengagement in sport scale. Journal of Sport and Exercise Psychology, 29(5), 608–628.

Bricheno, P., & Thornton, M. (2007). Role model, hero or champion? Children’s views concerning role models. Educational Research, 49(4), 383–396.