One of the most common mistakes we make when analyzing athletic performances in Canoe Slalom has to do with how we interpret what we see. From a technical-tactical perspective, we often fail to distinguish between what is difficult and what is complex. And this confusion matters—a lot—because it directly affects how we evaluate performances, how we train, and how we teach our athletes to understand the sport.
At my club, I see it frequently with younger paddlers. They get excited by runs that, at first glance, seem spectacular: risky maneuvers, extreme rotations, aggressive decisions. And yes, those are difficult moves. But that doesn’t necessarily make them complex. More often than not, that kind of paddling doesn’t come from deep technical thinking, but from an instinctive, somewhat chaotic way of responding to the course. On the other hand, some runs that look “easy” or even unimpressive at first sight often hide brilliant technical-tactical intelligence. And those tend to go unnoticed.
Here lies the real challenge: learning to see what isn’t obvious. When an athlete moves through the course fluidly, without apparent effort, without big gestures or flashy maneuvers, there’s a key question we must ask: What did they do to make it look so simple? The answer almost always points to the same thing: behind that visual calm is a deep understanding of the sport, a highly developed sense of anticipation, and execution filled with purpose. That is true complexity: integrating elements coherently, aligning them with the environment, creating synergy instead of conflict.
By contrast, when we see a rushed, tense run—full of corrections and reactive maneuvers—we’re probably witnessing the result of a simplistic approach to the sport. Not because it’s easy—in fact, that kind of paddling is usually much harder to sustain—but because there’s no solid conceptual structure behind it. What’s missing are principles, connections, and above all, clarity.
This is where the coach’s role becomes essential. Our job isn’t just to improve movements or design drills. We have to reveal what lies beneath each performance: to help athletes build a sharper, more analytical, and more aware way of seeing. And to do that, we must first learn to see differently ourselves.
We need to stop asking only “How hard was that to do?” and start asking “How did they think through what they just did?” What principles were at play? How were they combined? What decisions were made and why? What mistakes were avoided and how? These questions not only sharpen our perspective—they sharpen the athlete’s too. And that, over time, builds paddlers who are more stable, more effective, and much smarter on the water.
As coaches, we must clear away the noise. Help the athlete focus on what matters, on what’s well-connected, on what allows them to paddle proactively rather than defensively. Because when a paddler truly understands the sport, they start making decisions before problems even arise. They anticipate, adapt, and above all, enjoy control.
Look with new eyes. Don’t stop at what seems difficult. Ask what’s behind it. Complexity—when done well—looks easy. And that’s where true mastery lies.