Straight answers.

For your family, yes. Free, and there is never a card to enter. Everything you touch is included: the schedule, the reminders, answering yes or no, the calendar feed, messages, the safety card. Nothing is held back behind a fee.

One team is free forever too, with nothing switched off, safety features included. After that the club pays, by how many teams it runs: $150 a year for up to five teams, rising to $890 for up to forty, and a price we work out together above that. At a twelve-team club that’s about $3.25 per child for the season. Full pricing here.

That’s deliberate. Because the club pays for the tool, we don’t have to make money from your family’s attention or your kids’ data. Nothing is sold, and there are no ads.

Those prices may still change, and nobody is charged anything today. There is no way to pay us, so a club starts free or talks to us.

Both are true. Money from families never moves through this app: no registration fees, no league dues, no card payments, no store. That line isn’t moving.

What’s new is only who pays for the software: the club buys it, the way it might pay for a website or a gym booking. Your family still pays nothing and never types a card in here. The pricing page sets out what a club pays and what it gets.

Any team sport. The schedule, reminders, roster, safety card, concussion tool, messages and league rules work the same whichever one you play. The app just uses your sport’s words (basketball says “Tip-off,” soccer “Kick-off,” hockey “Puck drop”). Basketball and the Ontario Basketball League are the one league worked out end to end; soccer and hockey come with ready-made setups, to show how another sport slots in.

The honest limit: it’s built for team sports. An individual sport still gets the scheduling, the safety side and the messaging. But the parts about competing are shaped around teams: opponents, equal playing time, standings. When we say any team sport, we mean the “team” part.

Very few people, and you can see every one of them. Your child’s emergency and medical details are encrypted and locked by default, and opening them is a permission of its own. Staff have to prove who they are again first. Opening your own child’s emergency contacts asks nothing extra of you. It’s still written down.

A club admin can open it. A head coach can, for their own team. An assistant coach or team manager sees emergency contacts only. They see medical details only if an admin gives that named person access, on one named team, with a written reason, for three days at most. The admin can take it back at any moment. You see your own child’s. Every single look is recorded, and you can read that record yourself. Admins included. It shows who opened it, what they opened and when, and it can’t be quietly changed afterwards.

There is nowhere in the app to type a health-card number. That’s deliberate, and we test for it so a box for one never creeps back in.

They arrive. Reminders don’t depend on anyone remembering to send them, and each one is checked against the latest plan just before it goes. We test that by killing the app over and over while it is sending: every reminder still goes out, and goes out once.

It’s quiet, too. Changes and cancellations always reach you, whatever your settings. An invitation reaches you on whichever channel you’ve left on, unless you’ve snoozed that team. Nothing else in between. And every reminder names the child and the team, so a family with three kids never has to guess which one it’s about.

No app store, no download. It runs in your phone’s browser, and you can add it to the home screen so it sits there like any other app.

And for the person in your family who finds all this hard: the reminder email has a link that answers “Going?” for one child, on one event, with no sign-in and no install at all. It shows a first name and nothing else. That’s how a grandparent joins in.

No, and there’s no way to. No ad software, no tracking pixels, no side business in data. Nothing here can sell your family’s information, because nothing was built that could.

A few outside companies do handle what we send them, and not one of them is an advertiser. The company that carries our email sees the message as well as the address: a child’s first name, the team, and when and where to be. If a child is pulled off for a suspected concussion, that email names them and says so, because Rowan’s Law says the guardian has to be told at once. What it never sees is what sits behind the notice: no medical history, no emergency contacts, no list of your family’s numbers.

If you turn push notifications on, your phone’s own service (Apple’s, Google’s or Mozilla’s) carries them, encrypted so only your phone can read them. And if whoever runs this installation has turned on rulebook reading, an AI service sees a league’s rulebook: the text and the file’s name. League rules only, never a family’s information. It’s one switch for the whole installation; no club turns it on or off.

Basketball’s Ontario league, in full. That’s the OBL, 2025–26 season, typed out from the manual and checked line by line: how big and how small a roster can be, the limit on borrowing players and the notice that goes with it, the cancellation and fine rules, equal playing time, the reporting and results deadlines, and what qualifications a coach needs.

That’s the worked example, and your league fits in the same way. Soccer and hockey come ready-made. A new league is built once and shared for any club to adopt. And a tool can read a rulebook and suggest the numbers. Then a person checks every number against the page it came from and accepts it, corrects it or throws it out. What comes out is still only a draft until somebody publishes it. That reading is ours to run, not a club’s, and it’s off unless we turn it on. With it off, we type the numbers in by hand.

The app only ever applies the rules of the league a game is actually played under, so a practice or a house-league game gets no fine warnings at all. And where the manual contradicts itself, the app shows both readings and marks any dollar figures as not final.

Yes. That family is what we designed around, not an awkward extra. Any number of guardians can be attached to a child, all with equal standing. One account covers all your kids and all their teams, and any guardian can answer for any of them. The last answer wins, and it shows who gave it.

Accepting an invite twice, or from a different email address of yours, can’t split you into two accounts. That’s the mix-up that turns a five-minute setup into a week of emails.

Yes. Nothing in the schedule, reminders, roster, safety card or concussion steps is basketball. Only the words on screen change. You pick your sport and league when you set the season up. Alongside the basketball setup there are ready-made soccer and hockey ones, a house-league setting with most of the deadlines switched off, and an unaffiliated one with all of them off. A team can even be in two leagues at once: a league season and a tournament. Each game follows the right one.

In the United States, in Arizona. Our host has no Canadian region, so the real choice was an American location, a European one, or changing hosts. We chose the place the host’s server already sits. The app runs there today.

What that means for you: contact and medical details are encrypted before they’re stored, so a stolen copy of the database gives up none of them. The hosting company runs the server the app runs on, so it could reach what the app reaches. We never hand it your family’s details for any purpose of its own. Two things do stay readable to anyone with the database: names and rosters, because every team list needs them, and the address you sign in with, because a sign-in link has to be sent somewhere. So a company in the United States can see which adult is connected to which child. That is the honest cost of this choice, and we would rather say it plainly than bury it.

The app shows where data is kept on the club’s privacy page. A lawyer still has to review the privacy policy before it becomes the policy you are agreeing to.

No, and that’s a deliberate safeguarding choice rather than a corner cut. Ontario Basketball’s policy says messages between an adult and a child have to be open to review, by a guardian or by the club. End-to-end encryption would make that impossible. It would mean a conversation nobody can ever prove the contents of. So data is strongly encrypted where it sits instead, every look at it is recorded, and the app tells families plainly that guardians and admins can read Rule-of-Two conversations.

The name is the idea. The adults around a kid’s sport are on the same side: coaches, parents, the club. Nearly everything here follows from that. Two adults on every message. Your right to see what’s held about your child, and to read their conversations with adults. The exception is a conversation your child has asked to keep back, which the club’s safe-sport contact reads instead.

Any team sport, any club. Get in touch and we will set your club up. No sign-up form, no sales call, just an honest early conversation.