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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.
Monty Williams Coaching Deandre Ayton
Love the message and the composure. Perfect example of a conversational tone to coach your players.
Conversational Approach
It's interesting watching the NBA playoffs to see the way the coaches talk to their players. All of the mic'd up segments give good insight into the approach the NBA coaches take. It's very much a conversation when they are talking to their teams, with a measured tone. There really isn't a lot of emotion involved in the way they address their team.
I had the opportunity to visit with a few G League teams and get behind the scenes with them on game day. And the approach was the same. The communication with the players was very much in a conversational tone. It was more like two people talking to each other than it was one person telling another one what to do. It made an impact to me to see they way these coaches talked to their players, and I notice it every night when they show the mic'd up huddles in the NBA playoffs.
Compare this approach to what we see in college most of the time. There always seems to be a lot more emotion in the communication in college. I know I've been guilty of this as a head coach and an assistant. It's like I'm trying to infuse energy into the players every time I say something, to get them to feel the sense of urgency. I don't think emotion is always a bad thing either - there are times when you want your players understand he urgency immediately. But if you use that emotion every time you speak it's not going to have the same impact. And a lot of times too much emotion can shut down the engagement of your team.
I find it telling that NBA coaches, and other coaches when talking to pros, don't really use a ton of emotion. I understand they are grown men and being paid to play professionally, so they dynamic is different. But when it comes to communication, ultimately it should be about the best way to get the message across. The dynamic in the NBA seems to have better balance. It's not one person telling others what to do. It's a conversation about what is best for the player or the team, where it feels like the player can ask questions or have input. It's a little bit more of a casual conversation, and because of that is it a more connected one?
Think about it when you are watching the NBA playoffs, and when you are next communicating with your team. What role does emotion play in the way you communicate? Ultimately it's about the best way to get the message across.
NBA Coaches - Mic'd Up
G League visits
Chris Paul JV Point Guard
Chris Paul Played JV Basketball. Now He’s Playing in the NBA Finals.
Before he was the Point God, he was a junior-varsity point guard—for two years
Chris Paul is having one of the greatest, unlikeliest seasons of his career. MARK J. REBILAS/REUTERSSHARE
Tim Fuller became the coach of a high school’s junior-varsity basketball team in 2001, and it didn’t take him long to recognize that his point guard was good. Then he realized that he was too good.
“Why are you playing JV?” he asked.
His coach was not the only person wondering why a sophomore named Chris Paul was still on the JV. His teammates were, too. “I thought that all the time,” said JJ Cook, who is now a yoga instructor.
When a local newspaper honored Paul as the area’s player of the year—the Winston-Salem Chronicle’s headline was “Paul’s leadership, unselfish play set him apart in JV basketball”—his own coach admitted that he was overqualified for the award. “I felt lucky to have him all season,” he said, “because I thought they were going to move him up to the varsity.”
If someone is playing JV basketball as a sophomore, he’s probably not bound for college basketball, and he’s almost certainly not making it to the NBA. He might not even make varsity. It would be unusual for a future star to play even one season of JV. Paul played two. He was on the varsity football team before he was on the varsity basketball team.
But there was a prescient strategy behind the Paul family’s counterintuitive decision to keep him down a level for another year. They didn’t want him to be a role player for the varsity. They wanted him to be the leader of the junior varsity.
“When he played JV, he made everybody better,” said Charles Paul, his father. “The same thing he’s doing now, he did on JV.”
What he’s doing now is playing in the NBA Finals, finally, after one of the greatest, unlikeliest seasons of his career. The Phoenix Suns hadn’t been to the playoffs in a decade. Then they traded for Paul. It was a wise move. They won the Western Conference on Wednesday night, when he turned in his latest masterful performance, scoring 41 points to secure his first appearance in the Finals when the rest of the basketball world least expected it.
Paul is 36 years old and 6-feet tall. NBA players would prefer to be neither. He’s already played more than anybody of his size in the league’s history, and he once had a team attach draft picks to dump his seemingly toxic contract. It was a long shot for him to get to the Finals with this team at this point in his career.
But a peculiar thing about the NBA’s best players is that many of them look in the mirror and see underdogs. In the stories they craft about themselves, they are forever the versions of themselves right before their ascents. Chris Paul will always think of himself as the sophomore on JV because those two formative years at point guard shaped the player now known as the Point God.
“I wasn’t this phenom,” Paul said recently. “I played two years of JV basketball.”
Michael Jordan was so distraught that he didn’t make the varsity basketball team as a sophomore that he clung to the grudge for the rest of his career and spun the half-truth that he’d been cut by his own high school into the sport’s most famous origin story. Paul was more diplomatic about his time on a North Carolina high school’s JV team.
“It bothered me at first,” he said in 2001. “Now I think it was the best thing that could have happened.”
Paul was old and wise even when he was young and inexperienced, according to more than a dozen people familiar with the West Forsyth High School (Clemmons, N.C.) junior varsity in 2000 and 2001. He could have been on the varsity. But what he couldn’t have done was lead the varsity. “He was better at being a leader and the guy in charge of the JV than a guy coming off the bench for the varsity,” said David Laton, the varsity coach.
Instead of being the backup to a senior point guard on the varsity, “he was going to be the man on the JV,” said Chris Miller, one of his classmates. It was a decision inspired by the experience of Paul’s older brother, C.J., who made the varsity as a freshman before their father intervened. “I didn’t like it,” Charles Paul said. “I told the coach: I need my son on the JV. The only way he can get better is to play.”
They followed that formula for their younger son who got so much better that he would play in the NBA.
Chris Paul was a basketball savant long before he could have been on varsity. In eighth grade, he traded scouting reports with Tommy Witt, the coach of another school’s eighth-grade team. It was the only time in his 25 years of coaching that Witt swapped intelligence with a middle-schooler.
An opposing JV coach named Jeff Overby was impressed by Paul the very first time he schemed against this diminutive freshman point guard. Overby called for his team to press and trap. Paul took a dribble backward, split the double team, shielded himself from a future college-football defensive tackle and scored on a layup. Overby kept pressing and trapping. On the next possession, Paul whipped a one-handed pass for another layup. Overby called off the presses and traps. “That right there told me that his basketball IQ was way ahead of anyone in the gym,” he said.
Overby was surprised to see him back in that gym the following year. He wasn’t surprised that Paul was calling out their plays. He knew that “Dallas” meant they were trapping off the dribble but “Pittsburgh” was off the pass. He seemed to know everything there was to know about his rival JV team.
“We changed our calls because he knew our calls,” Overby said. “That’s how smart he was.”
It had taken Overby two plays to recognize that Paul was unlike anyone else on the floor. It took David Gelatt one.
He moved to Paul’s school before their junior year and was told by the varsity basketball coach that he might be the star of the team. He called his father with the good news. Then he went to an open gym. That point guard from the JV took off on a fast break, passed to himself between Gelatt’s legs, finished the layup and handed the ball to the new kid.
“Welcome to North Carolina,” Chris Paul said.
Gelatt called his father again. He wasn’t going to be the star, he said. He wasn’t even sure that he would make the team.
But together they formed the backcourt of the rare junior-varsity basketball team worth remembering. Paul turned a bunch of future salesmen and yoga teachers into the JV version of the Suns. He controlled everything. He yapped at everyone. He perfected moves that would dupe NBA defenders, and he learned to have the ball in close games. “But very rarely did games get close,” said Austin Allgood. “I mean, we had Chris Paul.”
That year turned out to be the beginning of the rest of his life. He blew up that summer. He picked Wake Forest for college basketball. He left two years later for the NBA as one of the country’s finest young players.
But first there was another team for Chris Paul to leave: the JV.
How to Lead As Part of the Group
From Scientific American Mind Magazine in 2007, talking about the "New Psychology of Leadership."
- Effective leaders must understand the values and opinions of their followers - rather than assuming absolute authority - to enable a productive dialogue with team members about what the group stands for and thus how it should act.
- No fixed set of personality traits can assure good leadership because the most desirable traits depend on the nature of the group being led.
- Leaders must not only fit in with their group but also must shape the group's identity in a way that makes their own agenda and policies appear to be one expression of that identity.
The Next Chair Over
You hear it all the time in basketball coaching circles. The move to the next chair over - from the assistants spot to the head coaches spot - is a big leap. It's completely different, and something you really can't get used to until you make the move.
I've always found that description as being a little too dramatic. Sure, it is different being a head coach. But I'm not sure it's as dramatic as we make it out to be.
To me, there are two big differences to get used to. First of all, you have to be on all the time. When you are the head coach, everyone is always looking at you, reading your body language or your mood, and you are impacting their behavior whether you know it or not. You are always the head coach, and it's hard to turn that off. Secondly, you go from making suggestions to making decisions. It's not that you have to have the answers all of the time. You can always say you don't know or you aren't sure. But if you aren't prepared, you are losing credibility with your team immediately. And that is hard to come back from. You can't just make suggestions or tell the players you have to run it by the head coach. You have to be ready to make decisions.
It's not like you just get hit by a ton of bricks when you become a head coach. You've been preparing for it throughout your whole career. Not too many people get blindsided by being named the head coach. It is intense and can be overwhelming at first, as you immediately feel the pressure of the responsibility and everything you want to do. By no means am I saying it is easy. But it is something you can prepare for, and should be preparing for every day as an assistant.
The best suggestion I can give to ease the transition when you become a head coach is to focus a lot more on your leadership approach than the basketball stuff. The leadership side is where you will spend a lot more of your time - relationships, messaging, culture, communication - and the basketball side will take a back seat. As you prepare to be a head coach, think more about who you are as a leader, what type of culture you want to create and how you are going to communicate it to your players. The mentality you establish will have more of an impact on your program than what defense you play or what plays you decide to run.
It's never easy taking over a new program and being a first-time head coach. The pace moves really quick and there are never enough hours in the day. You feel the pressure all of the time, and it's different than being an assistant. But you can absolutely prepare for it. Think about how you are going to carry yourself as a leader and what's really important to you off the court. Establish that, and develop genuine relationships with your players through communication.
You'll certainly have a lot more on your plate. But it's an opportunity you've dreamed about, that a lot of people don't get. Be intentional about what is important to you as you prepare to become a head coach, and focus on the big picture. It's not really that different, because once you become a head coach you get used to the responsibility. If it's what you always wanted, and you prepared for it, it's just the next step in your coaching career.
The Challenge of Body Language
I've been reading a lot of stuff online recently about body language. This is always an interesting conversation to me, as most coaches are really into eliminating bad body language. I just don't think it's a very big deal.
The following is a chapter from my book "Entitled To Nothing," where I was glad I didn't overreact to negative body language. Yes, you can buy the book here!
Body Language – What Really Matters?
NCAA Tournament, Round 1
When Friday finally arrived, I knew we were ready. We had a great three days of practice and we were confident we were better than Coast Guard (remember, we had beaten them at their place in December). The only thing I was worried about was our nerves. It wasn’t easy to predict how we’d respond to playing in the NCAA Tournament.
We had a great atmosphere in the gym, made better when six busloads of Coast Guard Academy cadets showed up to cheer on their classmates. Our guys enjoyed the environment and so did Coast Guard, with both teams playing well. It was a really competitive, well played NCAA Tournament game. We held the lead most of the way.
While I was doing everything to make sure our guys were mentally prepared, my inexperience as a head coach in this spot probably hurt us. As the second half moved on and we couldn’t pull away to a comfortable lead, I got tight. Normally we played ten or 11 guys, but I got out of character and shortened our bench. Usually midway through the second half I’d rest a couple of starters to make sure they were fresh down the stretch.
But we couldn’t take control, and I left my starters on the floor, hoping we could pull away. I didn’t get my key guys the right amount of rest and in an intense, emotional environment that had an impact. With about seven minutes to play, Kinsey Durgin took a wide open pull-up three and banged it off the backboard. I realized he was dead tired, and I had to get him out. Tirrell Hill missed an open 15-footer badly, and I realized he was tired as well. I had been thinking I’d ride the game out with them on the floor, but I had left them on the floor too long. I had changed my approach under pres‐ sure, a leadership mistake from a young coach.
I had to get them a breather. I took Kinsey out first and gave him a quick break, and then put him back in for Tirrell. When Tirrell came out, he really wasn’t happy. He had just thrown up a brick, we were only up by three points, and he didn’t want to come off the floor. Tirrell was a great competitor, and he always wanted to be on the court. His body language showed he was clearly unhappy.
I went right over to Tirrell and told him it was my fault, that I had left him on the floor too long without getting him a break. Then I told him he was going to go back in quickly, and he was going to help us win the game. He needed a quick blow. He listened, but he was still frustrated. He wanted to be on the court. I wanted to get his mind right.
The best thing I did was ignore his body language. I didn’t react to it, partially because his fatigue was my fault, but also because we had more important things to worry about. We had a game to win. I stayed focused on what really mattered to my team at that point. Under pressure, it’s easy to get agitated by stuff that’s not important. For basketball coaches, body language is often one of those things. We look at negative body language and come to conclusions, and often times those conclusions are either incorrect or irrelevant.
Tirrell was frustrated because he hadn’t been playing great, we couldn’t take control of the game, and he didn’t want to come out. I understood that. His body language wasn’t a message to me, or him “showing me up” as a coach. It wasn’t personal. He was tired and frustrated and I needed to help him deal with that.
I’ve learned to coach the behavior, not the personality. It’s not like I’m a fan of negative body language, but I don’t make a big deal out of it. I’m sure my body language wasn’t great at that point in the game either. On top of that, body language can be hard to read. I’m just not very good at it. It’s easy to come to the wrong conclusion. If bad body language leads to bad behavior, then I’m going to address it.
There are plenty of little things that might aggravate you but don’t really have a big impact on your team. Remember, it’s about what they need, not what you feel. Body language is simply one data point that may give you insight into what is happening with a player. And it’s hardly the most important one. Their behavior is much more valuable to you than how they look doing it. Body language can be more about control – I want you to act a certain way, don’t show me up! – than about the impact on your team. If it is a sign of bad behavior that is affecting your team, then address the behavior.
Had I been worried about Tirrell’s body language I probably would have left him on the bench. But he was a huge part of our team and we needed him. His frustration didn’t bother me; it was my job to get him right. I settled him down, and after a quick two minute rest, I put him back in. He made several key plays down the stretch, as he usually did, and we won the game.
After our first NCAA Tournament win in almost 30 years, we were now 25-3.
I have three general thoughts on body language - 1) It is very subjective and hard to read. One person's "great competitor" is another guy's "negative attitude." It's easy to add your own emotion to it as a coach and read it wrong. 2) It is often hypocritical. How is your body language as a coach? This gets you into the "do as I say, don't watch what I do" area, which I always want to avoid as a coach. 3) It can actually help me as a coach. When I see a player react with their body language, it gives me a clue as to how to coach them - even if it's negative. It can give me a good read on what to do next.
I'm on record as saying I think most of us as coaches make way to big of a deal about negative body language. Coach the behavior, not the body language.
Jim Collins - Level 5 Leader
"A Level 5 Leader puts the advancement of the company above his or her own reputation and builds loyalty and trust through quiet but purposeful action."
Self-Awareness
From Andrea Jung, Chair and CEO of Avon Products:
"Of all a leader's competencies, emotional and otherwise, self-awareness is the most important. Without it, you can't identify the impact you have on others. Self-awareness is very important as a CEO. At my level, few people are willing to tell me the things that are hardest to hear. We have an advisory counsel - ten people chosen each year from Avon offices throughout the world - and they tell me the good, the bad and the ugly about the company. Anything can be said. It helps keep me connected to what people really think and how my actions affect them."
Are you surrounded by people who are willing to tell you the truth?
Comfortable
One of the biggest challenges to sustaining success is getting comfortable. Things are going well, everything is working, and it is natural to feel good about everything. It's also natural to lose your edge. You don't see things through the same critical eye, and you don't have the same sense of urgency.
You want to enjoy success, and you have a right to feel good about accomplishments. To keep performing at a high level, you not only have to recognize the danger of getting comfortable, but you also have to be intentional about how to attack it.
Ask critical questions, even when things are going well. Require those around you to challenge something you are doing. I used to tell my staff at Maine to go home and think about something they didn't agree with, something they thought we were doing wrong or had to do better. Don't just let the people around you validate everything you are doing. Study other organizations who do things differently than you do, and see if you can pick up some things that may help you. Take a different approach to off-season workouts for a week. Put some guys at different positions in practice. Find ways to make things different, and maybe make yourself and your team uncomfortable, when things are going well.
After six years at Rhode Island College we completely changed the way we played offensively. We had been to 5 straight NCAA Tournaments and back to back Sweet 16s. We were rolling. But I didn't think our returning personnel fit the way we had been playing, so we had to make a change. We went to a more structured offense (something I don't really like) and played off the dribble a lot less. We got the ball to our best players where they were most comfortable. We were a different team offensively, without changing the core of who we were as an organization. We were still tough and competed extremely hard. The change made a lot of people uncomfortable at first, including myself, but it allowed us to adapt and stay ahead of the curve. We won the regular season league title, the league tournament, and went back to the NCAAs. We finished the year 26-3.
It's so easy to be comfortable. Especially when you are winning. But sustaining elite success is really hard, and comfortable doesn't get you there. You have to find a way to keep an edge. I've worked with a number of coaches over the years who didn't see things starting to slip until the results changed. Recognizing your own comfort level and challenging it is hard, but if you don't you'll find yourself in the middle of the pack wondering how you got there.
5 Questions to Ask Your Assistants
Thoughtful stuff from Jack Fleming for head coaches. I really like "Tell me why I shouldn't do that."
https://www.coachjackfleming.com/post/5-questions-for-head-coaches-to-ask-their-assistants
Start With I
I always want to coach players that start with "I." When I ask them what went wrong, why they are struggling, or what they have to do to improve, they start by saying "I have to..." They talk about what they have to do better.
Too often you hear players talk about what happened to them. When things aren't going well, they immediately go to everything else around them. The officials weren't very good, they double-teamed me right away. If someone asks them about why they didn't play much, they'll say "well, coach didn't give me a lot a minutes..." If they start answer the question with "they..." they aren't taking full accountability.
I want to be around people who own their situation immediately. There are always outside factors that impact what happens to you. But no one needs to hear that. And whatever those factors are, they aren't going to help you. What can help you is what you can control. I want to coach guys who own what they control and take full accountability for what happens to them.
Fran Fraschilla - Successful Coach
From Fran Fraschilla via Gordie Chiesa on a recent clinic...
5 skills that make for a successful coach:
- Teaching skills
- Communication skills
- Organizational skills
- Motivational skills
- Under pressure skills
Elite Teams...
- Play for each other
- Communicate directly
- Commit to constant performance improvement
- Get to class on time
- Practice good habits
- Recognize the long term value in their approach
- Confront bad behavior
- Offer critical feedback to the coaching staff in the proper setting
- Get over someone yelling at them quickly
- Do not take criticism personally
- Enjoy the hard stuff
- Adapt constantly
- Compete relentlessly
- Lead from the middle
- Don't care about status
- Can beat you in a lot of ways
- Eliminate rank from the conversation
- Turn values into behaviors
- Hear the coach's voice in their heads on the weekends
- Take care of the locker room themselves
- Limit their egos for the good of the team
- Get up early
- Form connections through shared experiences away from the gym
- Don't always do the right thing... but own up to their mistakes
- Understand the power of choices
- Relentlessly seek the truth
- Practice competitive excellence
- Find an efficient approach in the gym
- Learn to evaluate their process
- Are not defined by results
- Understand the value of practice
- Put teams away
- Win on the road
- Have a shared purpose
- Grow as people through team culture
- Are willing to fight for their core beliefs every day
- Answer critical questions with "I..."
- Are loud on the court
- Correct mistakes in practice before the coach can say a word
- Take control of the off-season
- Own their approach
- Have great perspective
- Refuse to let one another down
- Recognize down the road the hard stuff was well worth it
- Walk together forever