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Values or Preferences
"A value isn't a value until it's been tested." - Bob Richey, Furman Basketball
I highly recommend this podcast, hosted by Chris Oliver, with Bob Richey, the head coach at Furman: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-basketball-podcast/id1398261897
Bob Richey makes a great point about your values. He uses the example of ball movement being a core value at Furman. But he makes the point that it isn't a value "until it's been tested." What happens when you get a guy who doesn't really share the ball much, is more of a one on one player, but has the ability to get you 20 on any given night? Do you make sure that guy is going to share the ball the way everyone else does, or do you give him more freedom to play individually and make plays? That is when your value is tested. If you don't coach that player to share the ball the same way you do everyone else, then ball movement really isn't something you value. It's a preference.
We are faced with these situations often as a coach. One of our core values at Rhode Island College was toughness. I've always found myself attracted to tough players, and luckily the ethos of Rhode Island College as a school was a good match for me. We had a lot of tough kids. But early on as a head coach, while I found myself talking about toughness all of the time, and being very clear about the behaviors that exhibited the level of toughness I liked, I wasn't really rewarding it. I was leaning more towards playing the talented guys than the tough guys, who usually filled in for spot minutes off the bench.
Finally I realized I wasn't practicing what I was preaching. If I wasn't going to talk about toughness as a core value, and I was going to hold guys accountable for tough plays, I needed to reward it. I needed to make sure toughness was rewarded with playing time. That was when our core value of toughness got tested. If I wasn't willing to reward it, it wasn't really a value. It was a preference.
I realized I wasn't being true to what I was saying, and I made sure to reward the right level of toughness. We had a bunch of incredibly tough kids who were usually walk-ons who weren't recruited. They didn't have the same level of skill or ability as some of our other players, but if I thought toughness was really that important to our team (I did), they had to play. Almost every year we had at least one, sometimes two, walk-ons in our starting line up who were just tough-as-nails kids who refused to let you beat them. They may have not looked the prettiest or been the most skilled, but they always found ways to help us win. Not only did we start winning games consistently, but our culture developed a rock solid core. Our guys knew that I valued toughness so much that our toughest players were going to start and play a lot.
A value isn't a value until it's been tested. It's one thing to talk about it a lot, but when it comes down to making important decisions if that value doesn't stand up to the test, it's not really a value. It's a preference. And talking about it as a core value will slowly erode your credibility.
Money Talks
High school athletes are three times more likely to play college sports if they come from money.
Why Managers Fear Remote Work
I found this piece in The Atlantic very interesting. It will make you think about your management style as a leader and how you evaluate production.
https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2021/07/work-from-home-benefits/619597/
Empathetic and Demanding
Can you be demanding as a coach while also showing empathy to your players?
It's a great challenge for any head coach. When I was the head coach at Maine I learned to coach with empathy. I took over a program that was in a terrible place, and as I set about changing the culture, I gradually learned that many of the players I was coaching couldn't handle what I was asking of them. They didn't have a bad attitude and they weren't resisting the new approach. What I was asking them to do was very different for them, and many of them simply couldn't do it.
I was always very demanding on my players and I never lowered our standards. I started out very rigid, dead-set on establishing a new culture and making sure the players knew what to expect. But it was harder to get buy-in from everyone right away, not because they didn't believe in what we were trying to do, but because they couldn't do it.
We had a timed sprint that we used to run as a team known as "11 in a minute." The team had 60 seconds to finish 11 lengths of the floor in a dead sprint. It wasn't easy to complete, especially after practice. It took a high level of conditioning and mental toughness to get it done. But most college basketball players who are in decent shape should be able to do it. My teams at Rhode Island College did it. When I was in college at Hamilton, I did it.
When our guys at Maine couldn't do it, I saw it as a form of resistance. I didn't expect them to get it right away, but after time and working on our conditioning we still weren't making the time. I thought they just weren't willing to compete, weren't very mentally tough. But over time I realized some of them just simply couldn't do it. They were slow, they weren't in great shape, and they had never been asked to do anything that hard in their lives. They weren't fighting me on doing stuff that was hard. Many of them were giving their maximum effort. They just couldn't make it.
I learned that coaching with empathy was really important, and not just with a group that was struggling to meet the minimum standards. If you really get to know your players individually you can accurately evaluate what they are capable of and what they are giving you. When you let them know that what you are asking of them is very hard, and that you are proud of their effort, they will continue to give you everything they have. You can push them constantly while staying on their side.
Coaching with empathy does not mean lowering your standards. Most of those guys who couldn't make the time didn't last at Maine, because they just weren't capable. You can coach with empathy and be demanding at the same time. The result in some cases may be a change in personnel, and that is fine. You won't find success with a team of players who can't meet your expectations. But your approach to coaching your team - understanding where they are coming from, evaluating their effort and communicating openly with them about it - goes a long way towards getting the most out of them.
You can be a demanding coach with high expectations and still coach with empathy. When they do meet your standards, celebrate it and make sure you stay aware that what you are asking of them isn't easy. Get to know them, understand where they are coming from, and focus on evaluating the effort and approach.
Your standards can be demanding while you also recognize the challenges your players face. It will go a long way to getting the best out of them.
Empathy - Simon Sinek
Fourteen minute video from Simon Sinek on leading with empathy - worth the time.
"You are not in charge, you are responsible for those in your charge."
20 Commandments for a Head Coach
- It's not going to go the way you think it's going to go. Prepare accordingly.
- You are always on. Everything you do and say has an impact.
- They won't believe in what you do if they don't believe in who you are.
- Never blame your players.
- They will forgive your mistakes. They won't forgive you for being fake.
- Be direct and honest - always. They want to play for a coach who gives it to them straight.
- Give them the space to take ownership. The program isn't yours, it's theirs.
- To get an honest read on your culture, don't ask your seniors. Watch your freshmen.
- If you aren't modeling the behavior that you are preaching, stop preaching it.
- The quicker you get over yourself, the better head coach you will be. Every turnover is not a personal attack.
- It's always okay to say "I don't know." But they will always know when you are unprepared.
- The more questions you ask of your players, the more invested they will be.
- Admit your mistakes and show them who you are. Vulnerability creates a safe environment to lay it all on the line.
- Sometimes the horn goes off in practice. It's not a nuclear missile crisis.
- Saying one thing and doing another is the quickest way to lose them.
- Stay under the two-minute mark for all pre/post practice and post game comments. After that it's just noise to them.
- If they can't execute a play in a game, it's your fault, not theirs.
- It's your life. It's still a game to them.
- Practice time and score every day.
- The greatest reward you will get is a text five years from now saying "Thank you for holding me accountable."
Coaching Players Differently
In one of my last years as the head coach at Rhode Island College we had an interesting balance on our team. We had a group of veteran players who were solid program kids who were used to winning and had continued to carry and live our championship culture. We also had a bunch of newcomers who were very talented but had only been with the program a year or two. We had some freshmen and a few transfers who were older and pretty talented. The transfers were more talented than our veteran players, but obviously didn't have the winning experience within our culture.
Our team got along well, but the dynamic was interesting for me. Our better players were the transfers who hadn't been around as long and weren't used to the way we operated. There really wasn't any jealousy within our team, as our veterans were mature and they understood that playing time was earned. The players who competed, produced and were great teammates would earn their way onto the floor. It was still a dynamic I had to manage, to make sure we were all on the same page.
One of our transfers, a starter who was very talented, was one of the physically toughest kids I've ever coached. He competed his ass off and wanted to win. But some days he had trouble handling his emotions. He'd lose it at times in practice, and I'd just pull him out of the drill and let him cool off. I wouldn't yell at him or make an example of him in front of the team. I didn't think adding my emotion to an already emotional situation was the right thing to do. I'd let him calm down and then I'd go over and talk to him calmly, reminding him he couldn't just lose it emotionally with his teammates, while also making sure he was okay. After a few minutes he'd rejoin practice.
We were talented but pretty inconsistent all year, staying near the top of the league but never really playing to our full potential. We were counting on a bunch of new guys and we were mentally inconsistent. I thought we were the best team in the league, but we'd go on to finish as the #2 seed.
As we got into February the situation with this player became a little harder to manage. It was taking up too much time and energy. Despite his talent (he was our 2nd leading scorer and toughest player), we had to move on. With about two weeks left in the regular season I made the decision to remove him from the team. It was one of the most challenging decisions I've ever made as a head coach, because I genuinely liked him and wanted to make sure he was successful. When I delivered the news to him, he gave me a hug and thanked me for giving him the opportunity to play for our program.
As the #2 seed we had to go on the road for our conference tournament after winning our opening round game against the #7 seed at home. We then had to go to the top seed for the semi-finals. We hadn't been consistent all year so I didn't know what to expect, and our leading scorer for the year was also out with an injury. So we were playing without our two best scorers. We played very well in the semi-finals and controlled the game from the tip. We advanced to the finals pretty easily.
We had to play the championship game against the #1 seed in their gym, and we played great. We dominated the game and were up 19 at one point in the second half. Down the stretch, it never really got close. We won the conference championship and were headed back to the NCAA Tournament.
After the game, I laughed with our guys in the locker room. The vibe was like "Where the heck was that all year???" We put together our best 3-game stretch by far in the conference tournament without our two best scorers.
Talking with my seniors after that game, they had an interesting take on what happened with the team. They said that the way I had handled the one player with his emotional outbursts really had an impact on the team. I thought I was doing the right thing by keeping things cool and not letting them blow up whenever he got upset. But they looked at it differently. They thought he was being given preferential treatment. A few of them told me the talk amongst the team was that if anyone else had acted that way in practice, they'd be thrown out. It wouldn't be put up with. But there was a different set of rules for this one player. I hadn't looked at it that way. But clearly it had a negative impact on the team. When he was moved from the mix, it was like weight was lifted off of their shoulders.
Coaches will give you different opinions on whether or not you should treat players differently. Many accept the fact that your star players or better players have to be given a little more leeway with the rules. I don't believe that for a second. I do think everyone needs to be coached differently based on their personality and how you can connect with them. But if the standards are different for different players, your culture is going to suffer.
I didn't think I was giving this player preferential treatment. But the rest of the team did. And that was more important. So I lost credibility with regards to our culture and what I believed in, because the team thought I was being inconsistent. They weren't really bought in to what we were doing, and it was my fault. It had affected the way we played all year, and when that situation was removed, we were a different team.
I've never believed your team should have different standards for different players. I'm not a fan of treating your star players differently. Anything your team perceives as being inconsistent or unfair will take away from your ability to get the most out of them. Sometimes it's happening when you don't even see it.
Belichick On The Draft
“I would say I’ve never gone into a draft saying, like, well, we got to draft somebody or other at this position or this group of positions or whatever,” Belichick said... "I think you try to acquire good football players and we’ll figure out how to use them.”
Fran Fraschilla - 3 Levels of Pick and Roll
Level I - Create an advantage at the screen
Level II - Find a solution after you use/refuse the screen
Level III - Punish the help by making the right play
"Lie with your eyes, lie with the ball, lie with our body."
Two offensive objectives in a pick and roll:
- Get in the paint as quickly as possible
- Create confusion at the screen
UCLA Recruits Crave the Truth
Good stuff in here about how Mick Cronin is brutally honest in the recruiting process, and how the players love it.
I've always said there are two types of players - those who crave the truth, and those who you are going to struggle to win with. It's hard to be any good if you aren't interested in hearing the truth.
https://www.latimes.com/sports/ucla/story/2021-06-09/uclas-basketball-recuiting-honesty-mick-cronin
Recruiting Is An Art, Not A Science
Nick Manson transferred to Rhode Island College from Endicott. He wasn't recruited to play basketball. He walked into my office in the fall and said he wanted to walk on. He seemed like a good kid who played hard, and a couple of his high school teammates had played for me as well. We had room for a couple of walk ons, so he made the team. He used to come into my office all the time and tell me he was ready to play, he'd do whatever it took. I nodded and commended him on his work ethic. He was a solid walk on who could shoot a little bit, a nice practice player for us.
After a year and a half of not playing any meaningful minutes, I put Nick into the starting line up for a league game because I wasn't happy with the mental approach or compete level of our team. Nick played great defense and knocked in a couple of 3s to get us off to a great start. For the next year and a half he never came out of the starting lineup. He was a big time shooter for us and one of the best defenders I've ever coached. We went to back-to-back Sweet 16s with Nick in the staring lineup.
Darius Debnam was a long, 6-4 forward in high school who liked to hang out on the perimeter and shoot 3s. He was very interested in Rhode Island College, but my staff went and saw him play and wasn't very impressed. With the talent we had in the program, they didn't feel like he'd definitely make our team. I had a conversation with Darius where I told him if he wanted to play college basketball, he shouldn't come to Rhode Island College. We probably wouldn't have room for him, and I didn't want to mislead him.
Darius showed up anyway. During the first week of school, one of my assistants came into the office and said "I think I saw Darius Debnam on campus." He would show up at the recreation center when our guys played pick up and shoot by himself on the side court. I figured if he was here, we might as well let him play, so I told my point guard to get him in the pick up games. I asked him how he looked the next day, and he said "He's our best post player."
Darius was a captain and starter for us on those same back to back Sweet 16 teams, after I literally told him not to come to Rhode Island College.
Ethan Gaye was a local Providence kid who showed up at RIC and started to play with our guys in the fall. He had asked us to try out and we said we'd give him a look. Throughout the fall, a few of our returning players would stop in and ask if we were going to take Ethan on the team. They kept bringing him up because of how hard he played and how tough he was. I figured he had to be worth a look, and Ethan made the team as a walk on.
Ethan was far from our most skilled player, but the way he competed changed the level of our practices. He wasn't a great shooter, a great passer, or a great ball-handler. If you asked me what position he played, I'd probably say defensive back. He just changed possessions with the way he guarded and competed. In his last two years, Ethan started 45 of the 48 games he played on two NCAA Tournament teams that went 46-11.
Jacob Page was a quiet kid from Massachusetts who we didn't recruit to RIC, but he showed up and came out for the team. He was an undersized post player, no more than 6-4 wearing heels, who simply did his job well. He could guard multiple positions, and was one of those always-in-the-right-place-at-the-right-time kind of players. He made our defense better. He was a great practice player who earned the respect of his teammates.
Over his last two years at RIC, Jacob Page started 24 games for back-to-back league championship teams, and helped keep our streak of 8 straight NCAA Tournaments alive.
Recruiting is an art, not a science.
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.
Do The Players Call You Coach?
I'm 49 years old but I still cringe when I hear someone call me "Mr. Walsh." I always introduce myself as Bob, to players, families, any new acquaintances. I have a lot of friends with kids in their teens who call me "Mr. Walsh" and I'm not comfortable with it. Probably because I don't want to admit that I'm close to half-a-hundred.
I've always introduced myself to my players as "Bob Walsh" and not "Coach Walsh," even though the majority of them always call me coach and I don't have a problem with it. It's just never felt that comfortable to me, introducing myself to someone I don't know as "Coach Walsh," as if my job title earns me some kind of status. It's not like I went to medical school or earned five stars as a General. You don't hear too many other people introduce themselves by their title - "Hi, I'm tax attorney Smith," or "financial planner Lisa."
I had a great high school JV coach named Kevin Riddick, and he used to say to us "Guys, I know I'm your coach. Please, just call me Kev." I thought that was really cool. Now in games and practices when we were talking to him we still usually called him Coach, but he made it clear he was cool with us calling him by his first name. It brought a "we're all in this together" vibe that made us all comfortable.
I've read some interesting stories about some high level organizations where the leadership makes a point of everyone referring to one another by their first name. There is no "Mister" this or "Director" that, which kind of eliminates any type of hierarchy within the organization. Obviously there is still a flow chart and a chain of command, with certain people in charge of making the final decision. But they purposely try and eliminate status based on title or position to empower everyone to feel like they are on the same level.
The leadership model I'm always trying to create with my teams is one where everyone takes ownership and everyone is a leader. My best teams have come to realize the culture is theirs, it's not mine. There is not status inside of our gym, only performance. Everything we do is based on merit. What have you done to help the team today? That is our currency.
I don't think different levels of status work within that model. Again, I'm not against my players calling me coach. I'm fine with it. I just don't feel comfortable with it as a requirement, where they have to refer to me as the guy who is clearly in charge. I want them to know we are all on the same level, and we are in it together. I have to earn my stripes every day just like they do.
It's not a lack of respect if the players don't call me coach. It's actually more a sign of a comfort level between us and within our organization. Respect is earned, and it's a lot more about how we treat each other and talk to each other than what we call each other.
I'm not saying that calling you Coach has a major impact on the leadership dynamic of your team. But it might be a small reminder of a status differential that goes in a different direction than the culture you are trying to create. If your players are comfortable calling you by your first name or a nickname, that might be a sign of the connection within your group.
Will it bother you if your players stop calling you coach?
Traits of Great Leaders
Five traits I've found common to the best leaders I have ever coached.
Curiosity
The best leaders have a natural curiosity about the needs of those around them. They have the ability to focus on their own responsibilities, yet remain interested in what is going on with their teammates. It's not necessarily that they just care more about their teammates than others - although often times this may be the case. It's a mental capacity to stay interested in the needs of their teammates without affecting what they have to do.
It's an ability many players don't possess. They don't have enough mental capital to focus on their job while also staying curious about their teammates, so they focus on what is most important to them. It's not a selfish trait. It's natural to lock in on what you need to do. But great leaders stay genuinely curious about how their teammates are doing. They are interested in them, and consistently think about what they can to to help them.
Perspective
The best high-performers I have ever been around have this one thing in common, and it goes the same for the best leaders as well. Perspective is a particular attitude or approach towards things that are important to you. You know when you here certain people describe another as someone who "just gets it?" They are talking about perspective.
Perspective allows you to see things through the right frame of mind. It is a balance between the importance of what you are doing and the reality of the impact you can have. Perspective allows you to see things clearly, without getting too high or too low. It allows you to have the right relationship with both success and failure, and to keep moving forward at a high level regardless of which of the two you are dealing with. Great perspective keeps most leaders on balance.
Connection
The best leaders I've ever coached have a natural way of understanding the personalities around them. They don't judge teammates based on certain characteristics that may be considered negative, they just realize they have to deal with them. They connect with their teammates by knowing who they are and how to motivate them. It gives them a feel for what to say, what to do, and when it needs to happen.
Learning about the personalities of your team is essential to good leadership, and the best leaders have a natural feel for it. They can see when someone is struggling and they need to get picked up. Or when success is going to a teammates head and they need to be kept grounded. They recognize when a teammate needs to get the ball because he hasn't touched it in a while, or when someone needs a boost because they were taken out of the starting line up. Great leaders are connected to their teammates on and off the court.
Self-Awareness
Some of the best leaders I've coached were also great players, but they never took themselves too seriously. They never let success get to their head, or their ego to get too big. They stayed grounded, knew exactly what they were good at, and what they weren't good at.
The great leaders I've coached were not insecure about their weaknesses. They were realistic about what they could and couldn't do so they could find ways to get better. They craved honest feedback and were not afraid of criticism. They also knew the impact that they could have on others, both positively and negatively. They didn't always lace into guys for not doing things the right way, because they knew it might carry more weight because of who they were. The best leaders I've coached understood themselves first.
Presence
Presence is probably best described as a combination of all the things that make someone a great leader. Presence is really a way of carrying yourself with an understanding of who you are and the impact you can have. It doesn't mean having a great ego, but it is knowing that people are looking at you to be the leader and to set the tone.
Presence also comes from the way you communicate. It starts with being prepared, being direct and speaking the truth. It's the ability to command a room or a huddle in the middle of practice. It's not being dominant. It's a way of communicating that gets everybody's ear without being too forceful.
Presence is a recognition that you are always on as a leader, and with that comes the responsibility of holding yourself accountable to a high standard. It's the ability to persuade through sincere authenticity. Great leaders have an approach that is impactful at all times.
Shea Ralph - Dynamic Leadership Podcast
"Leadership is not a person. It is a process of consistent action." - Shea Ralph
Nick Saban: Outcomes are Distortions
"We don’t have any signs up that say, “Win a National Championship” or “Win the SEC Championship.” … I tell the players that outcomes are distortions. Let’s just focus on the details. As soon as you worry about winning as opposed to the next play, that’s when you get in trouble." - Nick Saban
Can You Expect Your Players To Be Selfless?
A very interesting excerpt from Nick Nurse's book Rapture:
Other aspects of Mudra's guidance are not as easily grasped because they really challenge coaching orthodoxy (Nurse is referencing Darrell Mudra and his book "Freedom in the Huddle"). For example: Do not expect your players to be selfless. Do not even expect them to always put team and winning first. Every player, Mudra wrote, "has goals that are more important than winning, and they have many loyalties."
That sounds like everything your eight-grade basketball coach tried to beat out of you. The myth was you always gave yourself fully to the team. One hundred percent. If you scored two points or thirty - or even if you rode the bench the entire game - it didn't matter as long as the team won. You were happy and content.
What I learned from Mudra, and what I know from my years of coaching, is that a big part of my job is to recognize my players' selfish goals - in all their particulars - and then find a way to make them come into line with the team's need to win.
It's another thing that I started doing in England. When I was coaching Tony Dorsey, I would leave him in the game at times even when we were comfortably ahead. The first time I did he sort of looked at me, and I said, "Listen, you need to score a couple of quick baskets to get to thirty points, because we're going to make sure you are the MVP of this league."
Recognize your players' selfish goals. When you think about it, it's a really smart approach. We all have selfish goals. I've been fortunate to win Coach of the Year awards many times in my career. And it feels really good. I like winning the award. I remember a specific year where we won our league and overcame a bunch of injuries to do so, and I thought for sure I'd win it again, but I didn't. And it bothered me. It's not like I was distraught or losing sleep, but it did bug me. I think it's human nature to want to be recognized for your work, and winning awards is fun.
If it's natural to feel that way, why are we fighting it as coaches? The standard approach is not to talk about it. To teach our guys that the team is more important, and that if we win everyone will get recognized. Yeah sounds great, but it's not really true. A guy who sacrifices shots or plays out of position may be doing what the team needs, but he's probably hurting his own chances for individual recognition.
I've always liked individual awards. I want my players to want to be first-team all league, or Player of the Year. I' not saying individual awards are more important than winning. The key is to recognize that they are important to everyone, and that is okay. We all want to be recognized. And rare is the case where someone is having a great individual year that earns honors but he isn't helping the team.
I've heard Stan Van Gundy talk about his time with the Orlando Magic, and how unselfish and team-oriented that team was when he led them to the NBA Finals - except for one guy. His best player, Dwight Howard. He said Dwight was more concerned with himself, his numbers and his contract than anyone else. What was Stan going to do about it? He wasn't going to change Dwight Howard to get him to sacrifice his numbers at that point in his career. He incorporated Dwight Howard's goals within the teams goals, similar to what Nick Nurse talks about. He constantly told Dwight and the team that he should lead the league in rebounding, knowing that being a selfish rebounder was really good for the team.
Do not expect your players to be selfless. It's really interesting to think about. We use words like sacrifice and unselfish with all of our teams. We want our players to think and act that way, but it's probably not realistic. It's okay for everyone to have their own personal goals within the team. Will those goals sometimes conflict with each other? Sure. That's when you have to coach. Recognize that everyone has personal goals, maybe even selfish ones, and figure out the best way to make it work for the team. To act like your players are going to be selfless just because you keep saying it, or because it is one of your core values, isn't realistic.