You and your partner have goals. Of course you do. Win the bracket. Hit 4.0 by fall. Don’t lose to those two again.

Maybe you’ve never said them out loud, but they’re there, humming under every game you play together.

Here’s what the best competitors in every sport already know: Outcome goals don’t drive performance — process goals do. Elite athletes don’t step onto the court thinking “win.” They step on with specific, controllable assignments: Get to this position, execute this pattern, run this play.

You’ve heard the pros say it a hundred times in interviews — get to the kitchen together, move as a team, take the middle. Those aren’t just talking points. Those are the process goals they set before the match. Now you know — so you should be setting them too. The score is the byproduct. The process is the job.

And doubles players have an advantage here that singles players would kill for: A built-in accountability partner. When you set process goals together, your partner keeps you honest on your individual goals — and you keep them honest on theirs — on top of the goals you set as a team. Nobody drifts.

When a match starts going badly, shared process goals do something even more important: They keep you on the same side. Instead of two frustrated individuals silently auditing each other, you’re a team checking the same list. It never becomes you versus your partner — it stays the two of you vs. the work.

I’m a clinical psychologist and a competitive doubles player, and this is the single biggest shift I make with the players I work with. Here’s how to do it.

Read next: The best budget pickleball paddles

What’s a process goal?

A score goal is about what you want to get: Win the match, medal, beat that team. A process goal is about what you’re going to do — something fully inside your control, win or lose.

For doubles, they come in three flavors, and a good set touches all three:

Individual goals your partner holds you to. “I’m getting my third shot drop in the kitchen 70% of the time.” “I’m mentally resetting at every serve.” Tell your partner. Now it’s real — and someone’s watching.

Team goals you hold together. “We get to the kitchen together — nobody hangs back.” “We talk before every serve, even if it’s two words.” “We take a timeout when we’re down four to talk strategy instead of stewing.” “No coaching each other between points — feedback waits until after.”

Strategy goals that develop your game. This is the one almost nobody uses, and it’s where partnerships level up fastest. “We’re running the stack on my serve at least three times this game.” “We’re attacking the middle off every short return.” “We’re trying the lob off the third shot twice, win or lose the point.”

You will never develop a play on game day if it only comes out when you’re already winning. Committing to reps inside real games — regardless of how those points go — is how a team builds an actual playbook instead of just a habit of hoping.

Read next: The Kitchen’s Top 13 paddles on the market + in-depth reviews for each one

What process goals do for a partnership

1. They redistribute the pressure

A huge amount of tightness in doubles comes from each player silently carrying the outcome: I have to play well or I’m letting them down. A process goal changes the assignment. You’re not responsible for winning — neither of you is. You’re responsible for executing the things, and the things are doable. Players swing freer when the job is something they actually control.

2. They end the post-match blame game

“Why did we lose?” turns partners into prosecutors. “Did we hit our process goals?” is a question two teammates answer together, looking at the same list, without anyone getting defensive. The debrief stops being a trial and becomes a review.

3. They make the bad days survivable

Every partnership hits stretches where results go sideways — the slump, the month where nothing drops. Pairs with only outcome goals start quietly wondering if they need a new partner. Pairs with process goals have something sturdier to stand on: The work is still getting done, the plays are still getting reps, and you can both see it. That’s what keeps a rough patch from turning into a breakup.

4. They actually produce results

This isn’t a consolation prize. The team that runs its plays under pressure, moves to the kitchen as a unit, and keeps feedback out of the heat of competition simply plays better pickleball over a season than the team that just tries hard to win. Process goals aren’t instead of winning. They’re how winning gets built.

Read next: The best pickleball paddles for drives and serves

How to set process goals together

Keep it simple. Before your next session or tournament, take five minutes with your partner and pick two or three process goals, maximum — one individual each, one for the team, one strategic. Write them down or text them to each other; a goal that isn’t named has a way of evaporating at 8–8.

Make them observable. “Stay positive” is a vibe, not a goal — you can’t count it. “Get to the kitchen together” and “run the stack three times” you can actually check. If you couldn’t tell from the sideline whether you did it, sharpen it.

Then — and this is the part everyone skips — review them after. Win or lose, the first question in the parking lot isn’t “what happened?” It’s “did we do our stuff?” Hold each other to it. That’s the accountability part, and it’s the whole point of having a partner in this.

Expert review: New Proton Project Coyote is powerful but also very predictable

The deeper thing you’re really doing

When you set process goals with a partner, you’re doing something bigger than goal-setting. You’re committing to the process with them — declaring that the work you do together matters more than any single scoreboard.

And your partner can feel that. There is almost nothing that makes a player relax and trust like knowing their partner isn’t keeping score on them — that the partnership doesn’t get re-evaluated every time the results dip. Maybe the thing I value most about playing with my best partner is exactly that: Not his hands, not his strategy — our commitment to the process we were building.

Chemistry, trust, the kind of doubles where the team plays better than either player — none of it arrives on demand. All of it is built by two people who keep showing up for the work. Process goals are simply how you say that out loud to each other.

So this week, skip “let’s win.” Pick your two or three. Get to the kitchen together. Run your plays.

The winning has a funny way of taking care of itself.