Want the whole framework, not just the words?
The full framework for how much to say and when to stay quiet during play.
See the framework"Well done" and "good shot" run out fast in a five-minute kickabout. Most of what's missing when the words run out is knowing which kind of praise fits the moment in front of you, not just more warmth. This page teaches that distinction first, then gives a real bank of lines sorted by moment: a good touch, a near miss, an actual miss and the end of a go.
For a long time every good touch got the same "well done", until it stopped meaning anything.

Process, outcome and person
Process praise for kids sport comes down to naming what your child did rather than delivering a slogan. Process praise names something your child DID: an action, a choice or an effort. Outcome praise names what HAPPENED: a goal, a save or winning. Person praise names what your child IS: "you're brilliant", "you're a natural". Three examples make the difference concrete, not abstract: "You watched it all the way onto your foot" is process; "That one went in" is outcome; "You're a natural at this" is person.
Process praise is the one worth reaching for first, most of the time, because it names something a child can choose to do again on purpose. A result or a compliment about character, they cannot.
The verb-swap test. Could you swap in a verb for what they did, and still have a true sentence? "You kept your head over the ball" passes. "Well done" and "amazing" don't, because neither names an action.
Sorted by the moment, not just the mood
Praise phrases for football work best sorted by the moment they fit, not just by how warm they sound. Four moments come up in almost every kickabout, and each one has its own line worth having ready.
A good touch. Name the specific thing that worked. "That stayed close because you kept touching it." "You looked up before you passed." An outcome version, used more sparingly: "That one found the gap."
A near miss. The ball didn't go where it was meant to, but something in the attempt was still worth naming. "You got your body across it that time." "You stuck with it right to the end." Nothing about the result here; a near miss has no outcome worth praising, only the attempt.
An actual miss. The moment most phrase lists skip, or fill with "unlucky", a line that quietly renames a skill problem as luck. Instead, name something true and small. "You went again straight away, that's the bit that matters." "You stayed with it." Nothing about the miss itself needs saying; it's already obvious to both of you.
The end of a go. A closing line that sums up effort across the whole go rather than the last touch. "You tried that about eight ways before it worked." "You didn't stop when the first two went wide."
Nobody uses all four in one evening. The near-miss and actual-miss lines are the two that do the most work, because they're the moments most phrase lists skip.
The one moment worth getting right
What to say when your child misses in football is a different question from where the next touch should go. This section is about your child's effort and feeling in that moment, not the technique; for exactly where to aim the next touch, see the mistake-proof aiming swaps.
Swap "unlucky" for "you went again straight away". "Unlucky" quietly renames a skill problem as bad luck. "You went again straight away" names something your child chose to do.
Swap "never mind" for "that's the hard one, most people miss that". "Never mind" dismisses the moment; the second line normalises it without minimising it.

What changes as they get older
A line that lands well for a five-year-old, "you kicked it!", can read as patronising to an eight- or nine-year-old, because it praises something they no longer find difficult. What changes is not warmth. It's specificity: trading a general cheer for naming the one exact thing that was hard for this child today, instead of the same enthusiastic line used two years ago. That one swap keeps working across the whole 5-to-9 range, because it moves with what your child is currently working on, not staying fixed at "well done."
Two studies, both borrowed from outside sport
Across six studies, children praised for ability performed worse after a setback, enjoyed the task less and were more likely to call their own ability fixed than children praised for effort. In the first study, 128 ten- and eleven-year-olds solving puzzles were split across three praise conditions: told "you must be smart at these," told "you must have worked hard at these," or given no praise for ability or effort at all (the study on praise for ability versus praise for effort, Mueller and Dweck, 1998). This was a puzzle task, not football, done with children older than this site's 5-to-9 band, in the United States. It shows that how a compliment is framed changes a child's later relationship with difficulty, not a promise specific to a garden kickabout.
In 53 families, parents' praise for a toddler's effort predicted a stronger belief, five years later, that ability can be built through practice. Praise for a toddler's inherent qualities was not linked to the opposite belief (praise recorded in 53 family homes, Gunderson and colleagues, 2013). These were toddlers, observed at home rather than football, and a correlational design, so this page recommends process praise as the better default without telling anyone off for the odd "you're brilliant at this": this study did not detect a link to the opposite belief, though the ability-praise study above found real costs from that kind of praise.
See how Our Kickabout researches its pages.
Three related questions, three other pages
The broader question of how much to say, and when to say nothing at all, belongs to the framework for what to say during play. Whether a parent has drifted from playing into running a coaching session belongs to the check for whether you've slipped into coaching. The aiming-specific swap list for exactly where to point the next touch after a miss belongs to the mistake-proof aiming swaps. For all of it laid out together, see the Parent Play Style hub.
Quick answers
Praise that names something your child actually did, an action, a choice or an effort, rather than the result or a compliment about them as a person. "You watched it all the way" is process praise; "you're a natural" isn't.
Not as an occasional line. As the everyday habit, it's the riskier choice: across six studies, children praised for ability performed worse after a setback and were more likely to see ability as fixed. Process praise, naming what they actually did, is the safer default to reach for first.
Not "unlucky", it quietly turns a skill moment into bad luck. Name something they did, like going again straight away, or normalise it plainly: "that's the hard one, most people miss that."
Not exactly. What changes isn't warmth, it's specificity, trading a general cheer for naming the one thing that was hard for your child today.
Keep going
Three places to go next, depending on what you're after: the fuller framework, a check on whether play has drifted into coaching, or the whole collection this page belongs to.
The full framework for how much to say and when to stay quiet during play.
See the frameworkA short, honest check for whether play has quietly turned into a coaching session.
Check yourselfEvery page in this collection, laid out together in one place.
See the collectionTonight's five minutes
Try one process-praise line after the next good touch, and the after-a-miss swap the next time the ball goes wide.