Why We Built RosterPro
· Hema · product update · founder story
Saturday morning, 8:47 AM
I'm standing on a field in Apex, North Carolina with a bag of cones, three kids, and no idea if anyone else is coming. Practice starts in thirteen minutes. I've sent two group texts, a WhatsApp message, and an email this week. Most parents haven't replied. A few said "maybe." One sent a thumbs-up emoji that I'm choosing to interpret as "yes."
This was my life as a volunteer U-10 soccer coach. And I know it's yours too.
The RSVP problem nobody talks about
Here's what surprised me when I started coaching: the hardest part isn't running drills or teaching kids to pass. It's the logistics. Specifically, it's getting parents to tell you whether their kid is coming to the game.
Youth sports runs on volunteer coaches — parents who give up their weekends because they love the game and want to help kids. But the tools available to those coaches are either expensive, overcomplicated, or nonexistent.
I tried the obvious solutions. Group texts turned into chaos — important game details buried under messages about snack schedules and carpool arrangements. Parents muted the chat. I don't blame them. TeamSnap looked promising, but at $15/month for a rec league? I'm already buying the cones out of my own pocket. Plus, asking every parent to create an account with a password and download an app was a nonstarter. Half of them never completed signup. Email worked for about two weeks, until parents stopped opening them.
The pattern was clear: every solution required too much from parents.
The game that changed everything
But the RSVP problem wasn't what made me build RosterPro. That came later.
First, there was the game I'll never forget.
We were matched up against the top team in the league — a team that had been demolishing everyone all season. 7-0. 8-0. Just running through opponents like they weren't there. If you've seen Kicking and Screaming with Will Ferrell, that was my coaching career — minus Mike Ditka and minus the talented Italian kids. So going into that game, I was just hoping we'd keep it respectable.
But something happened when the whistle blew. My kids came out fired up. They were passing, communicating, fighting for every ball. And then — we scored first. We actually scored first against the best team in the league. They equalized, but we didn't fold. We kept playing. For the first time all season, my team looked like they belonged on the same field.
Then, about five minutes into the second half, I heard the other team's bench start whispering. Their star player had arrived late.
I turned around. Walking onto the field was a kid who looked like he'd been held back three grades. Nearly six feet tall at eleven years old. Not overweight, not awkward. Just an enormous growth spurt packed onto an incredibly athletic frame. Still age-eligible, totally legal, but physically in a completely different category from every other kid on that field.
What happened next was like watching a highlight reel. He received the ball at midfield and just cut through our defense. Like they weren't there. He scored. Then again. And again. And again. Four goals, all by himself, all within about fifteen minutes.
Then, to top it all off, the referee awarded a free kick right on the edge of the box. Their star stepped up, planted his foot, and put the ball in the top right corner. Perfectly placed. Like a professional taking a penalty in the Champions League.
Game over.
I looked at my kids' faces. Some were frustrated. Some were confused. A couple looked like they wanted to cry. These weren't kids who didn't try. They tried their hearts out. They just got handed a game they were never going to win.
The real problem
The problem wasn't that kid. He's a great athlete who deserves to play soccer just like everyone else. The problem was structural — and too many kids on the losing side of a lopsided season just never come back. You can see it every spring: the sign-up list is shorter than the year before. Families quietly drop out.
That's the part we're working on. And we'll have more to share soon.
Building the solution
I went home after that game and started thinking. Building AI apps and AI agentic products is my passion — I've spent years turning raw information into better decisions. And here was a problem staring me in the face every weekend that deserved one.
But any real fix has to earn its place on your sideline first. A tool that shows up on day one to solve the RSVP chaos, coordinate your volunteers, and get parents the game info they actually need — without asking them to download apps or remember passwords. That's what RosterPro is today. The deeper work on fairer seasons is coming next, and we're building it with leagues, not for them.
If you run a rec league and any of this resonates, I'd love to hear how your league runs today. Reach out — we're looking for a few leagues to build this with.
Built by a family
One more thing: the app icon — that gold medal with the soccer ball, football, and basketball? My son designed it. He was very serious about the color choices.
RosterPro is free for coaches. We built it because volunteer coaches deserve better tools — not another subscription fee on top of the cones they're already buying out of their own pocket.
If you're a coach who's tired of chasing RSVPs, give RosterPro a try. Setup takes two minutes, and your parents will thank you for not adding them to another group chat.
What's next
We're building in public and listening to coaches. Cricket support is already built in from day one — if your league plays it, we're ready. And we're always looking for feedback from coaches in the trenches.
Got ideas for what would make your coaching life easier? Share your feedback or email us at hello@getrosterpro.com.
— Hema