Create Safety and Listen

An excerpt from my book, Entitled to Nothing, on the importance of creating safety within your program so your players are comfortable speaking up. This meeting in January of '07 was a key moment in our eventual run to the Elite 8.

That January provided another great lesson in leadership for me, a reminder of the importance of listening.

As promised, when we came back to practice, I set a different tone. Practice was more intense. I was relentless with every toughness play and I had no let up. Our guys were coming back from a long break, so it was a little shocking for them. And I was fine with that. We needed to get tougher.

The problem was the extended break, combined with the new tone I was trying to set, led to some miserable practices. We were awful. The guys were out of playing shape after too many days off, and I kept driving them harder. I didn’t have a lot of patience or let up, because I knew we had to be tougher. The combination didn’t work, and for two days of practice everyone was miserable. I was convinced, however, that the new tone was something they needed to get used to.

After that second miserable practice, after the guys had gone home, I got a phone call in the office from Kinsey Durgin. Kinsey was unquestionably a team leader and also one of the best players in the league. His phone call turned out to be a very important conversa‐ tion in my development as a head coach.

Kinsey started out by telling me how much he loved playing for me, and how everyone on the team felt the same way. He said the entire team was bought in to what we were doing, but for the last two days they noticed a different tone, and everyone was miserable.

“We all love playing for you. But the last two days haven’t been the same. We feel like you are giving up on us, and you don’t believe in us. We’ve had coaches give up on us before, and guys are afraid that is happening again. So, please don’t give up on us.”

I was taken aback. Kinsey and I had a great relationship, and the conversation was very cordial. But at first, I wasn’t very comfortable. One of my players was basically calling me out as a coach and giving me constructive criticism. My first reaction was to defend myself. I was the head coach, right? Players don’t tell the coach what to do. I was a little tense. Fortunately, I didn’t get defensive.

We talked about why I was setting a different tone, because I didn’t think we were tough enough. He agreed that we needed to get tougher, but he didn’t think the guys were bought in to how we were going about it. The tougher tone was making everybody unhappy, and the tone was very negative. More importantly some of the guys were starting to turn on me and give up on the team. My approach was making us worse, not better.

I wasn’t sure how to react. We had a good conversation, but I defi‐ nitely felt like as the head coach my players shouldn’t be telling me what to do. My ego was definitely bruised. I needed to figure out what to do. Luckily, I didn’t respond in any way right on the phone, probably out of shock. Phil Jackson says, “When in doubt, do noth‐ ing,” and luckily, I followed that advice. Because I didn’t know what to do.

I called a friend of mine who was a veteran coach to have a conversa‐ tion. I wanted to get another perspective and clear my mind to eval‐ uate the conversation I just had with my captain. I needed to talk it out.

I explained to him what happened with the Kinsey phone call, and I’ll never forget his reaction.

“You’ve got ‘em.” I was surprised. “I’ve got ‘em?”

“You’ve got ‘em. If your senior captain felt comfortable enough to give you a call, to talk to you about what is going on in practice, and to tell you some things that the team thinks you need to do better – if he felt safe enough to have that conversation with you? You’ve got ‘em. They are totally bought in. They are willing to lay it on the line for you. I’d listen to him, because he wouldn’t be calling you if there wasn’t some sort of issue.”

That was an eye-opening way to look at it. If we had created a culture where the players were comfortable coming to me with things they felt needed to change, they had total belief in what we were doing. They trusted me and they trusted us – our culture – so much that they were willing to take a risk to fight for it. Wasn’t that what I was always saying to them? It has to be worth fighting for, and Kinsey was fighting for it.

There had to be a level of safety in our program to have that kind of difficult conversation. There was no fear. That same level of safety allowed our players to lay it all on the line for one another every day, without concern for the result. And if they were telling me some‐ thing was wrong, I needed to listen. The elite competitive environ‐ ment we had created on the practice floor allowed Kinsey to call me and speak the truth.

Regardless of what the issue was, the fact that our culture was safe enough to have that conversation meant a lot. We had the team fully bought in, and I had to make sure I kept it that way. I spent the night thinking about that conversation and my approach, feeling better about the culture we were building.

The next day I spoke to the team about the conversation I had with Kinsey. I thanked him for calling me to talk, and I apologized for the tone that I had set in the first two practices after the break. I made it very clear that I would never give up on them. I again explained what I was doing and why I was doing it. I reiterated the point that we needed to get tougher to win the league, and the players agreed. I asked them how we were going to get there.

We came to an understanding that they would hold each other accountable for all of the toughness plays on a daily basis. I would make sure I pointed them out and coached them on it, but they would have to take responsibility. They needed to correct the behavior and make sure it was unacceptable. In return, I would make sure the tone stayed positive. I’d still coach them and hold them accountable, but I wouldn’t get negative about it. They were going to take even more ownership. I had to give them the room.

To be honest, I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it at first. I was glad we had the conversation, and it felt good to have my team back. The guys were much better in practice moving forward and competed at a high level. The atmosphere was positive and fun. But I still wasn’t entirely sure that we’d be able to get tougher. I’d point out the soft plays in practice and I’d say “How are we going to change the behavior guys? How do you want to do it?” I tried not to yell or get too negative, and the point was more “you told me you were going to correct it, so what are we going to do about it?” It was risky as a coach, because I still didn’t think we were tough enough. But it felt good to get my team back. And little did I know we were creating more trust and ownership.

This was probably the most significant experience I had where I truly understood the value of listening to my players. And my belief in that has only grown over my career. I can watch practice, evaluate film, and talk to my staff as much as I want. I always learn the most about my team when I listen to my players. I try to talk to my players as much as possible. There is no better way to understand the pulse of your team.

Kinsey called me and challenged me, the first time that happened to me as a head coach. He went about it the right way, with a measured, respectful tone, but I still was caught off guard. My first instinct was to fight back and establish the fact that I was in charge. I’m glad I didn’t do that. That conversation really helped me grow as a leader. It gave me an understanding of the value of a safe culture, and how important it was for me to listen. I had created an atmosphere where my players wanted to take ownership, and I had to allow them to do that. It felt really uncomfortable at first, but it was a big step in forming our championship culture.