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Sustaining Elite Success
What I learned about sustaining elite success when I was the head coach at Rhode Island College, from my book Entitled To Nothing:
As we moved the program forward after 2007 there were some key components that played an important role in sustaining our level of success.
Define Yourself Clearly and Simply
You need a clear vision of who you want to be as an organization. And you have to make this clear and simple for your team.
Our first core value was “compete.” That was how we defined ourselves. Our definition of competing was “your best effort always, without compromise.” Nothing could get in the way of how hard we played. Ever.
The behavior was defined clearly every day. We celebrated competing in practice. The first one to dive on the floor for a loose ball. Sprinting back after a turnover. Keeping an offensive rebound alive. We showed the behaviors on film. There was no doubt about what competing looked like.
Define the core values and standards for your program clearly and in simple terms. Your values are who you are as a team—and you should define them as behaviors. Your standards are the benchmarks of your conduct. They are how you measure and evaluate what you do.
A clear vision of who you are, for everyone in your organization, is essential to sustain elite success.
Alignment
The culture of your organization needs to align with who you are, but also with the beliefs of your institution. If you are the President or CEO and you report to the board, your beliefs need to align with theirs. If you are a head coach, you need alignment with your athletic director and the school President. You also need to fill your team with people who are aligned. This doesn’t mean you can’t have differences of opinion. But your decisions should always be made with the vision and values of your organization in mind.
You have to be true to yourself. You also have to recruit and retain talent for your organization, and their comfort level is important. To do that in an environment where powerful influences are fighting over the direction of the program is very challenging—and I’d say unsustainable.
Live your culture every day. Your team will as well. They should be walking billboards for what you believe in. If you don’t have align‐ ment, and your culture isn’t something worth fighting for to them, it will be difficult to achieve at a high level.
You can have some success with some outliers, but it will be hard to sustain it at an elite level without true alignment. Get everyone on board with your vision and values.
Culture First – Always
Do you remember the story of Benjy Nichols in my first off-season? He didn’t want to run because his teammates had been missing class. He spoke up, and he walked away. He never played for us again.
That day was one of the most important days in establishing our culture. I was scared as it was happening, not knowing if it was going to cause a mutiny. And I hadn’t planned it. But I stood firm on our culture, and what we were really about. We were going to handle ourselves a certain way off the court.
From that point forward, our guys knew that if they tested me (or what we believed in) that I wouldn’t flinch. You have to be willing to sacrifice talent for your culture. In fact, if you don’t at some point lose someone talented who isn’t really bought in to your culture, something is probably wrong. The sacrifice necessary for elite success is not for everyone.
Always put your culture first. That means making some very tough decisions and losing some talent that you feel can help your team. In the short term, it can be very hard. But over the long haul, any cracks in your culture will be devastating and almost impossible to overcome.
Create Ownership
The idea of ownership is all over this book because my teams at Rhode Island College showed me how it translates to sustained, elite success. Ownership is in the fabric of high performing teams. A lack of ownership is one of the most common differences between good teams and elite teams.
Your values, your standards, and your overall culture—they need to be things that are worth fighting for. To be willing to fight for it, it has to be theirs. It can’t just be something they hear from the boss every day. They have to own it.
Creating ownership comes down to how much control you are willing to give up. You are the leader, and you set the tone and guide the process. But let your players own it. Ask a lot of questions and listen as much as you can. Ask them about the core values and how they would define them. When something doesn’t meet your stan‐ dards, don’t declare that what they did isn’t good enough. Ask ques‐ tions: Is that good enough for us? Does that meet our standard? What are we going to do about it?
Don’t just get them to buy into what you believe. Get them to tell you what they believe. Get them to talk and be willing to listen. It’s extremely powerful when you can say to your group, “this is what you told me you wanted,” when something hard is on the horizon. It’s just as powerful when they hold each other accountable to your standards before you do. They will learn to compete for one another, and the strength of that approach will carry your culture.
The Value of Talent
With all the talk of the importance of culture, it’s easy to forget about the talent. Getting buy-in to the difficult stuff you need to do to win big is significantly easier if they are capable of meeting your demands. Talented individuals can do the hard stuff easier, and when they realize they can do it, they’ll buy into it quicker.
It seems obvious that to sustain a high level of success, you need to have talent. But it gets overlooked more than you think. Not every person you hire, or recruit, is going to be a foot soldier for your values or a great culture guy. But they might be able to consistently perform, and that’s also really important.
Look for natural talent. Guys who make difficult tasks look comfort‐ able, and guys who can adjust on the fly with ease. The right fit for your culture can’t be the only measure. Acquire the talent to succeed, and it will help advance your culture more than you think.
If your culture is right and your players take ownership of it, you can absorb some talent that isn’t as naturally bought in to your approach. The strength of your culture and the leadership of your team will give you a feel for who you can take and how they’ll fit. You need talent to sustain success and advance your culture. Don’t take that for granted.
Not Good Enough
The flip side to the talent paradigm is to make sure you have some teammates who “aren’t good enough.” I’ll explain to you what I mean.
At RIC I was blessed with a number of talented players who we didn’t recruit, Cam Stewart, for example, a key member of our Elite Eight run. Some of them showed up unknowingly. We always had a tryout to give kids a chance, and I started to notice a trend. Not only did we usually keep a couple of those guys every year, one or two of them would usually find their way into the lineup. They became key players for us.
Cameron Stewart. Nick Manson. Darius Debnam. Ethan Gaye. Jacob Page. These weren’t just good teammates who competed hard in practice. They started for us in NCAA Tournaments. Manson and
Debnam started on back-to-back Sweet 16 teams, and I didn’t recruit either one of them. Darius actually came to RIC after we told him we didn’t think he was good enough, and we wouldn’t have room for him. He was a two-year captain on Sweet 16 teams. Think about that for a second. Cam Stewart scored almost 1,000 points in his career.
The guys who “weren’t good enough,” so to speak, did so much to drive our culture. They were the glue to it. We had some elite talent and that was a big part of our success. But the program kids, the ones who had to fight and scratch for their place on the team every day – they were the ones most responsible for our approach. And it was the approach that made our success sustainable. Their hunger, commitment and toughness drove our organization.
John Beilein always said, “Never underestimate the value of a low- maintenance player.” We made it a point to find room for kids who were dying to be a part of it. It mattered to us a lot, and it should matter to you. Find a place within your organization for people with something to prove and reward their contributions. They will become the heartbeat of your team.
Be Flexible
Our championship culture was always fluid. It was constantly evolv‐ ing, as was my approach. We had our basic core values, but that didn’t mean we were averse to trying something new. If you aren’t adapting, you aren’t getting better. You are likely getting worse.
In my seventh year at RIC, the dynamics of our roster had changed. We lost the best point guard in the league, Antone Gray, who was also the best leader I had ever coached. He led us to back-to-back Sweet Sixteens and four straight NCAA Tournaments. While we still had talent, our two best players that next year were forwards, and my new point guard was more of a tough, physical player than a jet.
We were a fast team that liked to play in transition and go off the dribble, but our personnel didn’t fit that style anymore. Our three best players all were physical and got their work done inside. So instead of our wide open, dribble-drive attack, we went to a flex offense—a structured approach that relied on simple screens and pattern passing. I was never a big fan of the flex because I didn’t like the spacing, and I wanted our guards to have room to create. But it fit our personnel better that year, so in year seven, as a head coach, we made a major change. We went on to advance to the second round of the NCAA Tournament, running an offense I really didn’t like. But I was flexible enough to make a major change to fit our personnel.
The most dangerous phrase for organizational success is “because that’s how we’ve always done it.” If you aren’t adapting, you are getting worse. You can stick to your core values and still be flexible. It’s one of the toughest challenges you’ll face, but it’s essential to sustain success.
Be Consistent
Be flexible and consistent? Sounds like a contradiction, but it isn’t.
The reason why your culture has to be clearly defined and explained, and aligned with everything you believe in, is because your players need to see you living it. They have to see it in your behavior. When they see that, they’ll know how much it really means to you, and it will mean more to them.
You must be consistent. Your team is smart, and you aren’t going to fool them. They don’t have to hear it to know it. Your culture has to be who you are, and you have to live it on and off the court, in season and out. You can do it and still make the necessary changes to be successful.
A consistent approach with a flexible mindset can certainly work. Inconsistency in your approach will create cracks in your culture that you’ll never be able to repair. Be consistent in how you live your culture every day.
Fight Entitlement Aggressively
After our Elite Eight run in 2007, I wanted our players to own our success. High expectations were part of the deal and we needed to handle the pressure of being the best. Our warmup shirts had “The Champ Is Here” on the back of them, and we took the floor at the Murray Center to the Jadakiss song of the same name. We talked about being the best team in the league. We prepared that way and carried ourselves that way—with confidence and class. We were picked to finish first in our league in eight of our nine years, and we embraced it every year.
Along with that confidence and the success came a sense of entitle‐ ment. We expected success to happen to us, and we lost some aware‐ ness of the approach necessary to achieve it.
Entitlement is poison for elite cultures. It can get into your system without much notice and it gradually erodes the foundation of your success. As a leader, you must have your radar up and expect it. The confidence that comes with achievement naturally evolves into an expectation of success, and the process can easily suffer. Adapting and staying ahead of the curve is critical.
We started to take for granted what we had built, and I had to fight the entitled mentality aggressively. We no longer appreciated what we had done, or what it would take to maintain it. We talked about what was important to us. Were we happy with one championship or did we want to sustain an elite level of success? Did we want to do it again?
I reminded our guys every day how lucky we were to be a part of something special. We had long conversations about it. We cele‐ brated our competitive excellence and recognized our commitment to one another. We appreciated the people around us who helped us achieve our goals. Winning a championship wasn’t a defining moment for us. The preparation would define us. Not just as a team, but for the rest of our lives.
When I asked my team how they felt about our program, the one word that kept coming up was “grateful.” Grateful to be a part of it. Grateful to have my teammates. Grateful for the opportunity.
Being grateful was a perfect way to combat entitlement creeping into our program. As we moved forward, we decided we would be “Grateful for everything, entitled to nothing.” It became the core of our program.
Recognizing and aggressively combating the entitlement that came along with our success allowed us to sustain it for nine years.
Re-Thinking
"The best coaches understand when they need to change, and what they need to do to be effective moving forward." - Hal Nunnally, Randolph-Macon
When I first became a head coach, we had a late game defense we called "3D" where we switched everything. In our regular man to man we never switched, but late in games when we were winning in the final minute and we wanted to take the 3-point line away, we'd switch to our 3D to better guard the line.
One game at home in my 3rd year against Keene State (our big rival), we didn't execute. We gave up an open 3 off of a missed switch with about 20 seconds left, when one of my freshmen reacted too late and left a shooter open. We ended up losing the game in overtime.
After that loss I started to re-think my strategy. We never, ever switched in our regular man to man defense. We did practice our 3D in time and score situations, but it wasn't something we did a lot. Why was I asking my players to do something different defensively, something we rarely did, on the most important possession of the game? As I thought more about it, I didn't feel like I was putting them in the best position to win. I know a lot of teams just switch everything late, and I was probably doing it because that was conventional thinking. You see a lot of teams get caught on bad switches in big spots. As I thought more about it, it didn't make sense. I decided to scrap 3D. We never switched late again.
In the 2010-2011 season at RIC we were really good. We won 21 games, won our league regular season and post-season, and went to the NCAA Tournament. We went to Oswego State for the first two rounds. After winning our first round game against Penn St.-Behrend, we played Oswego to go to the Sweet 16.
Early in the second half we were in a back and forth battle with a small lead, but we couldn't get away from them. They were getting in the paint and scoring on us too easily close to the rim. After about a minute or two in the second half I said to my staff "we may have to do something different. We can't stop them." They were in such a good rhythm on offense and I didn't think we could win the game without finding a way to stop them.
We were the best defensive team in our league that year and we played exclusively man to man. We had played, literally, one possession of zone all season - at Eastern Connecticut, out of a time out with a short shot clock. Other than that, we hadn't changed defenses all year. But we had to do something different at Oswego, so we went to zone. And they stopped scoring. We never came out of it. We played zone the last 17 minutes of the game and won pretty easily, heading to the Sweet 16.
After that 2011 season, and back to back Sweet 16 appearances, we lost a lot of good players, including our starting backcourt. We lost two all-league players who could really go off the dribble and get into the paint. Our best guard coming back, Tahrike Carter, was more of a power combo guard than a pure point guard. He scored in the post, but wasn't as quick off the dribble. Our other two best players were our 4 and 5 man, the best players in our league at their position. They posted up and got to the rim.
We had always run a fast-paced, wide open dribble drive offense. We had guards who could go, and we wanted to spread the floor and get into the paint. We kept it pretty simple. But with our 3 best players now being guys who were better inside and posting up than they were off the dribble, so I had to re-think our approach. Instead of going with the dribble drive, we went with a tight flex offense.
I was never a big fan of the flex - I always preferred a wide open floor where we could attack off the dribble and make plays. But we didn't have the same personnel we usually had at RIC, so we made an adjustment. I had to re-think our entire offensive approach. In 2012-13 we went 26-4 and won our league again with a 13-1 record, playing with a completely different offense.
One of the biggest basketball mistakes I made as the head coach at Maine was heading into my third year. We had recruited very well our first two years, and we were playing as one of the fastest teams in the country. Pressing on defense, playing with an open floor on offense, constantly on attack. We had the most athletic team in our league by far.
After that second year, however, we lost our 5 best athletes - one of them to graduation, and the other four transferred (we ended up losing 9 kids to "up" transfers over 4 years). We replaced them with some recruits in the spring, but we went from being one of the more athletic teams in the country to certainly the least athletic team in our league. And I failed to re-think how we were going to play. We started the year with the same approach to defense, flying around and attacking, yet we didn't have the athletes to be successful playing that way. I realized about halfway through the year that I wasn't putting our guys in the best position to win because I hadn't re-thought my approach.
It's so easy to get stuck in a rut with how you do things as a coach, especially if you've had some success. The default response is we just need to do it better, or work harder, because we know it's not the system - the system works. But how often do you re-think your approach and examine the best way to operate as a program? Our personnel is constantly changing, so it makes sense that we are ready to change to get the most out of it.
Don't be afraid to re-think as a coach, regardless of how much success you have had. It's a process that will continue to make your program better.
Learning Cultures Vs. Performance Cultures
From Adam Grant's book, Think Again.
Rethinking is more likely to happen in a learning culture, where growth is a core value and rethinking cycles are routine. In learning cultures, the norm is for people to know what they don't know, doubt their existing practices, and stay curious about new routines to try out. Evidence shows that in learning cultures, organizations innovate more and make fewer mistakes. After studying and advising change initiatives at NASA and the Gates Foundation, I've learned that learning cultures thrive under a particular combination of psychological safety and accountability.
Over the last few years, psychological safety has become a buzzword in many workplaces. Although leaders might understand its significance, they often misunderstand exactly what it is and how to create it. Psychological safety is not a matter of relaxing standards, making people comfortable, being nice and agreeable, or giving unconditional praise. It's fostering a climate of respect, trust, and openness in which people can raise concerns and suggestions without fear of reprisal. It's the foundation of a learning culture.
In performance cultures, the emphasis on results often undermines psychological safety. When we see people get finished for failures and mistakes, we become worried about proving our competence and protecting our careers. We learn to engage in self-limiting behavior, biting our tongues rather than voicing questions and concerns. Sometimes that's due to power distance: We're afraid of challenging the big boss at the top. The pressure to conform to authority is real, and those who dare to deviate run the risk of backlash. In performance cultures, we also censor ourselves in the presence of experts who seem to know all the answers - especially if we lack confidence in our own expertise.
As coaches, we always say we are in a results-based business (In reality, what business isn't?). Can you foster a learning culture, as opposed to a performance culture, to maximize success when the results are the bottom line?
Family or Team?
3x5 Leadership looks into the question - are we a family or a team?
I don't think we value being part of a team enough, or do enough to understand the dynamics of elite teams. I've never liked to call my team a family, for one simple reason - my love for my family is unconditional. Being a part of a high-performing team is highly conditional. "Family" has long been a buzzword in athletics, but I don't think it's genuine. If you keep screwing up on our team, you won't be on the team very long. That is not what happens in a family.
3x5 takes a look at the question from both sides.
Zone Attack
Why do teams switch to zone? It's rare that a team plays zone as their main defense, usually they are going to zone as their change-up. They may play it because they don't think you can shoot, or you run a lot of great stuff and they don't want to guard it. They may play it because you are too quick for them and have too many playmakers. They may go zone just to get you out of your rhythm if you are playing well offensively.
There are a lot of reasons that team go to zone, but most of them center around one central idea - they are hoping that you will change your approach offensively, that you will slow down and stare at the zone. They want to take you out of your offensive flow and keep you from creating good shots through motion or ball movement.
Attacking zone to me is much more about what you emphasize than what you run. It is about the way you play against the zone, not which plays you call. They want you to stand around and stare at it. They don't want you in any sort of flow, with ball movement, spacing and hard cuts making you hard to guard. As a coach, you need to figure out how you want to play against a zone, and teach those habits to your team, before you teach them what plays to run. You can keep your offensive flow going by teaching your kids the big picture concepts of how you want to attack, versus being specific about where to stand, where to flash and where to throw the ball.
I start by defining the offensive players you want to see against zone. What does good zone offense look like to you? For me, it was always three things - 1) Ball Movement (make the zone shift) 2) Play Inside-Out (make the zone collapse) and 3) Expose the gaps.
"Both sides, inside out, expose the gaps." That's how we want to attack the zone, no matter what offense we are running, we are calling set plays or we are playing in transition. We made sure we defined each one specifically so our guys understood the behavior.
- Ball Movement - swing the ball to both sides of the floor quickly, to make the zone shift.
- Inside-Out - Get the ball (and people) into the middle of the zone, either with a pass or dribble.
- Expose The Gaps - Once we've moved the ball and gotten some penetration, we will create gaps on the zone between defenders. Our goal is to expose those gaps - sit in a gap when you are cutting through, call for the ball as you flash in to a gap, or dribble penetrate when you see the zone open up.
My teams would hear me say "Expose the gaps" an awful lot against a zone, whether we were running a play or not. Even if we were running a set play against a zone in practice, if we opened up a gap and didn't expose it - sitting a cutter in there or getting the ball in there - practice would stop. Everything we were doing was really to create gaps on the zone, and when we did we wanted to attack that gap. That was the freedom I wanted our guys to have in zone attack.
I love a good zone offense and there are a lot of great zone sets out there that can create good looks for you. But no matter what we are running, our goal is the same. I'm fine if you want to run sets or offense against zone. But I just wouldn't get so into a routine that your team becomes robotic and is easy to guard. That is what the zone wants. They want to see you moving in a sequence, where they can follow you and match up. Give your guys the freedom to make plays against the zone, and the way to do that is teach them the concepts you want them to use.
I do think zone offense is an area where being less specific can make your players better. Figure out what behaviors fit your team that will help you beat a zone, and define those behaviors for your players. Teach them concepts, not specifics, first against a zone. The offense you decide to run should be built off of those concepts, not the other way around. Zone offense is about the habits you emphasize, not the plays you run.
Draymond
In game 5, Draymond Green bounced back from an awful start to the NBA Finals with 8 points, 8 rebounds and 6 assists in the Warriors big win. He played 35 minutes, which is what he averaged in the first four games. Steve Kerr has done a great job managing Green, a key player on championship teams for the Warriors who had been playing awful for the Celtics.
Give Steve Kerr a ton of credit for how he has handled Draymond. He benched him late in Game 4 and still got some key plays out of him. And then he got his best game from him in Game 5.
I wrote this yesterday, before the start of game 5, on the challenge a coach faces when one of his best players isn't playing well:
Draymond Green is shooting 23% from the field and has 6 baskets through 4 games in the NBA Finals. He is averaging 7 rebounds and 6 assists, but he has more fouls committed than points scored. He's playing 35 minutes per game, only 2 minutes per game less than the other Golden State starters. He's an average of -1.8 per game. Kevon Looney is shooting 72% from the field and averaging 7 points and 9 rebounds per game, playing just 22 minutes per game. Looney is a team best +9.0 over the 4 games.
Steve Kerr has a tough challenge in front of him. What do you do when one of your main dudes isn't playing well? Kerr showed his hand a bit in game 4, benching Green for a few minutes in the 4th quarter before bringing him back late - where Green made 2 big plays to help them win the game. But Kerr showed his hand, at least in that he's not afraid to mix it up and take Green out if he's not playing well.
To me this is one of the hardest in-game decisions a head coach needs to make - do I go with the starter who has been a key guy all year even if he's not playing well, or do I go to the bench with someone who might not be as good, but is playing better right now? There's nothing that bothered me more than looking at a box score after a game that I lost, and seeing I gave a lot of minutes to one of my starters when he wasn't playing well, especially when there was another guy playing well who didn't get many minutes.
While this is an in-game decision, realistically it's something you want to decide before the game starts. Chip Kelly says you should make your tough decisions "in air-conditioned rooms," meaning you need to talk out the scenarios ahead of time and decide what you are going to do when the situation arises. When we had a starter who wasn't playing well over a period of games, I'd make sure to tell my staff to get him out if he wasn't playing well - I'd say "we can't roll with X if he's not playing well." It would be part of our approach to the game.
The NBA Finals obviously provides a unique situation - I mean, it is a little wild to play the same team possibly 7 times a row over 2 weeks, isn't it? This actually gives Kerr a lot more time to decide what to do with Draymond. After 3 games of Draymond struggling, he finally adjusted his rotation - albeit slightly - down the stretch in game 4. With the series tied at 2 he's got a tough call still in front of him.
I've always felt that most coaches will go with the proven veteran in this situation, but a lot of that is self-serving. It's more comfortable to stick with the starter, hoping he can turn it around. If you go with the starter and he struggles, the narrative is about the player and how he didn't play well. If you make a change and do something different, and your team loses, the narrative becomes about the decision you made as a coach. I do think a lot of coaches are afraid to make a change due to self-preservation.
When a guy has proven himself and is clearly one of your best players - and he's helped you win - you are certainly going to give him a little freedom to have a bad day. You aren't just going to yank guys every time they struggle. But you do need the courage to do what is best for your team in that moment, and it requires a feel for the short-term mentality of your team.
I'm usually going to fall on the side of going with the guys who are playing the best, versus sticking with the starter when they aren't playing well. I don't think it's an absolute, but I hate looking at the box score after a loss and seeing someone who played really well that only got 10-15 minutes of playing time. I think the value of playing a lot of guys and developing depth shows up in these situations. You just need the conviction to finish games with some different line-ups and make sure your guys are bought in to your approach.
Who to play late in games is never easy. In college, we don't get 7-game series to evaluate our guys over two weeks. Usually it's an in-the-moment decision. When all your top guys are playing well, you don't have a lot of decisions to make. But when things don't all go your way, and one of your guys is really struggling, what are you going to do? Do you go with the guy you've always counted on, or do you go with the hot hand? I'm going with the five guys who are playing the best to finish the game.
You Aren't Working Out
- If you stop to check your phone, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't break a sweat, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you are walking after the rebound, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you are talking trash with your boys, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't push yourself to make mistakes, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't challenge your comfort level, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't have a set goal to finish each drill, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If your shoes aren't laced up, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't need a break to shoot free throws, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't get your heart rate up, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't need to warm up and stretch first, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you take a break to eat, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you walk after the ball to retrieve it, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't work on your weak hand, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't have a long term improvement plan, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you are moving at a comfortable pace, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you are chopping it up on the bleachers, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you don't keep track of makes and misses, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you decide to shoot some half-court shots, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you go to your phone to skip to the next song, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
- If you aren't intentional about your improvement, you are shooting around, you aren't working out.
Making The Leap
Very interesting data on teams expected to make the leap into the Top 10.
https://www.three-man-weave.com/3mw/forecasting-the-leap-2022
Delivering Your Message
“Many communicators try to make themselves look smart. Great listeners are more interested in making their audience feel smart.” - Adam Grant, Think Again
Think about how you deliver your message to your team. What is your goal?
My ability to deliver the right message to my team has evolved over the years. When you first become a head coach you really prepare to make sure you know exactly what you are talking about in front of the team. You think about exactly what you want to say and make sure you are comfortable getting it across. Although it wasn't intentional, my approach was really to make myself "look smart." I was just worried about what I knew, and how I was going to say it.
Over time I started to think more about getting the message across. I could see reactions in the players faces, and I could tell whether or not the message was resonating. Then when we went out on the floor, usually I could see some level of impact in their approach. If the message did get across there would be a tangible response.
John Wooden used to say "You haven't taught until they have learned." There are plenty of times as a head coach where you have an important message to relay, but circumstances may dictate if or how you deliver it. After a tough practice, when your team is dead tired, they may not be ready to receive any message. I've learned any long talks after practice or a game usually fell on deaf ears. It wasn't about the message I was prepared to deliver (and how smart I looked), it was about their ability to receive the message (and how smart they felt).
The quote above from Adam Grant really makes me think about how I deliver the message. Early in my career, I felt good if I got to all of my bullet points and deliver them succinctly and with presence. It didn't really matter how my team felt. But great communicators are also great listeners, and they have a feel for their audience. You should have this type of feel for your team. Your goal, when you deliver the message, is to make them feel smart.
Golden State's Front Office
Terrific look inside Golden State's approach to rebuilding their team while still competing for a championship. So many great gems in here.
Inside the Warriors’ restructured front office at the end of a validating NBA Finals season
Preseason. Los Angeles. An overall meaningless night to the viewing public in what was then known as Staples Center. But the stakes were high in regard to the Warriors’ 15th and final roster spot for the 2021-22 season. The decision was between Avery Bradley and Gary Payton II. The franchise legends preferred Bradley, the known commodity. The front office wanted Payton, a gem they felt they’d discovered. Another option: Neither. Leaving the spot open would save millions in luxury tax penalties. The internal debates were lively.
The competition tilted Bradley’s direction when Payton had hernia surgery a month before training camp and wasn’t able to get on the court. He was running out of time to win the spot. To secure an NBA job, Payton needed to make a statement. He convinced the training staff he was well enough for the green light in Los Angeles, however brief.
Payton entered late in the first quarter. He had a putback, dunk and layup within his first 121 seconds on the court. Two more dunks came a bit later. So did a block and a steal. His night — and entire preseason audition — only lasted 11 minutes. He didn’t even play in the preseason finale. But the impact of his performance swept through the organization like juicy gossip. Payton’s style isn’t subtle.
At one point during Payton’s stint, Steph Curry stood up from his seat on the bench, turned towards the crowd and locked eyes with Bob Myers, the president of basketball operations, seated about five rows back, next to a beaming Joe Lacob.
“Steph turned and gave me an, ‘All right, all right … ‘” Myers said while sharing the story this week, his head nodding and shoulders shrugged, hands in the air, mimicking Curry’s gesture. “I gave him one of those looks, like: ‘See, we’re not idiots. We know a little bit.'”
The rejuvenation of the Warriors — back in the NBA Finals, where they’ll face the Boston Celtics in Game 1 on Thursday night — means a whole lot for a whole lot of people at every level of the organization. Job security. Future earnings. Legacy building. Reputation defining. Career affirming. Winning sprays credit in every direction. Everybody eats. That includes the restructured, bolstered front office.
For the Warriors’ basketball operations collective, this has been a season of vindication. It’s been doubted, scrutinized and derided since Golden State lost the 2019 NBA Finals to the Toronto Raptors. This run to the championship stage is validation for a sharpened process, a string of new hires, some recent draft picks, their roster additions, their way of doing business. Most of all, for the ambition of their highly scrutinized two-timeline plan, which supposed the Warriors could simultaneously draft, protect and develop the future while pursuing a championship in the present. Even their star players were skeptical.
“If it was up (to the veteran players), we would’ve all loved to have (added) a ton of experience,” Draymond Green said recently on his podcast, The Draymond Green Show. “They thought totally different. Ultimately, we went with that side of things. They were 100 percent right. So you have to give them credit for going out on that limb with the highest payroll in the NBA and saying, ‘No, we think we can get it done that way and that’s the route we’re going to go.'”
The credit for finding Payton begins with Kent Lacob. The younger son of the team’s CEO cut his teeth scouting the G-League. The Warriors use Santa Cruz as a front office proving ground. Ryan Atkinson was the GM down there. He’s since been promoted to a more prominent role within the Warriors’ front office, replaced as Sea Dubs GM by rising front office voice David Fatoki.
Kent and Atkinson put Payton on the radar of Nick U’Ren, the Warriors’ director of basketball operations. Myers always wants a few G-League names ready if a roster spot opens. He relies on that crew’s expertise in the minors. When the Warriors traded Marquese Chriss and Brad Wanamaker at the 2021 trade deadline, they had a floating 14th roster spot that needed to be filled. That’s when Payton’s name first landed on Myers’ desk.
“What kind of guy is he? What do you think he does best? Basic stuff,” Myers said. “Then ultimately I’ll go with the recommendation. I can’t pretend to say I’ve watched as much Payton as Kent has. That’d be dumb. That’d be arrogant and wrong.”
It was a win for every layer of an expanding front office. From the Santa Cruz brain trust to U’Ren in the San Francisco front office, to head coach Steve Kerr, who was convinced by U’Ren, Kerr’s former special assistant, that Payton was worth keeping.
“They can question anything they want,” Myers said of his players. “I want them to. But this idea that they were upset or we bucked what they wanted … It’s an interesting story, but it’s never been uncomfortable. Nobody in the course of the last 10 years, as far as I can remember, I don’t remember a conversation where it was ever uncomfortable. They’ve held up their end of the bargain. But in the same way, so have we. I don’t want that to sound defensive. We haven’t done everything right. But we’ve done some things where it’s given us the benefit of the doubt a little bit.”
Klay Thompson tore his Achilles the day of the 2020 NBA Draft. The Warriors stuck to their established draft board and took James Wiseman at No. 2. But Wiseman, a center, couldn’t replace what they’d suddenly lost in the injury to their star guard. It created a frantic moment of roster reform. The Warriors had a valuable $17.2 million trade exception that was set to expire a few days later. They had a vacancy on the wing and one chip to cash that would vanish soon. Use it or lose it.
Joe Lacob spends aggressively. It’s an ownership quality that separates him from many of his peers and opens up the menu of options for his front office. He not only green-lighted acquiring Kelly Oubre Jr. with that trade exception but also was pushing for it. After going 15-50, Lacob had no interest in another losing season. Even though adding Oubre would incur a massive luxury tax penalty, Lacob wanted to fill the gaping hole on the perimeter. Oubre’s talent and defensive acumen felt like the closest they could get to replace Thompson. But the Warriors’ decision-makers would learn that not every problem can be solved by spending money.
“Fit is always a factor,” Steve Kerr said. “Bill Belichick has a great quote that he uses in general: ‘You’re not building a roster, you’re building a team.'”
Oubre didn’t quite work out for the Warriors. There was some internal belief that perhaps he could’ve been used wiser. Oubre always performed better as an undersized power forward in a smaller, speedier lineup. Just look at the season he completed in Charlotte. Kerr mostly started him at shooting guard. But Kerr had also been handed Wiseman, a rookie center whose developmental needs were both prioritized. So going small wasn’t an option.
“The hard part about that (Oubre) decision was there wasn’t enough time to make it,” Myers said. “Preparation is important. That decision was hastily made because of Klay’s Achilles. I guess if I were to criticize it, it’d be the knee-jerk part of it. But it also could be viewed as a positive because it shows Joe’s willingness to always try.”
The bigger problem: Neither Oubre nor Wiseman fit with the motion, pass-heavy, flowing scheme Kerr runs and both Curry and Green have come to prefer. The front office had gone talent hunting and strayed from what had so often made the Warriors successful in the middle part of the past decade — pairing David West’s passing with Ian Clark’s cutting and Zaza Pachulia’s brute force with JaVale McGee’s lob crushing.
“We never had to live on the margins,” Myers said. “We’re now on the margins more than ever, even though we are in the Finals. Those (Kevin Durant) teams had a huge margin for error. We don’t have that anymore. So how do we create an edge? Analytically you can find them. Player development you can find them.”
Zoom out. Go back to the dreadful 2019-20 season. During that time away from the spotlight, coming on the heels of that dynasty run, the Warriors’ front office finally had time to take a forest view of its operation and examine how best to reorganize and modernize.
Part of the issue with the Oubre addition was the lack of statistical vetting. He doesn’t pass or move much on offense. The tracking data and numbers told that tale, highlighting the unlikeliness of his fitin this particular system. But that warning wasn’t heeded prior to the trigger being pulled.
“When we were on that five-year run, it was really about trying to keep it together,” Myers said. “I spent a lot of energy on keeping us whole. Once that fractured with Kevin leaving, Klay being hurt, Steph getting hurt, it was no longer about the playoffs that season. So let’s spend our time and energy on our process. Meaning analytics, coaching staff, development. I’d say we started thinking deeper.”
What they discovered was an archaic habitat that had lost two valuable old-school voices — Jerry West and Travis Schlenk — while also failing to inject a new-school approach within a league increasingly obsessed with analytics.
They hired Onsi Saleh away from San Antonio on the recommendation of reputed Spurs executive R.C. Buford. Saleh is the Warriors’ new cap guy. Before, the team’s general counsel doubled as the cap guy.
“The Spurs are much more formalized in their meetings and much denser in how they process,” Myers said. “So it’s great to have Onsi. He’s been awesome as far as cap information. Strategic planning. He’s beloved by all our coaches. Super bright. Law degree.”
Pabail Sidhu leads the refurbished analytics department. Mike Dunleavy Jr. and Kirk Lacob have been at the forefront of platforming Sidhu and better integrating his work into the organization’s decision-making. They’ve let him hire a bigger department and plan to let him expand it further.
Sidhu has created his own formula that is used by several departments. It helped the Warriors generate their free agency board last offseason. Their new analytics approach identified Nemanja Bjelica and Otto Porter Jr. as targets who “popped” under this new paradigm.
“A lot of people didn’t celebrate our offseason, in terms of minimum signings,” Myers said. “We actually thought we got what we wanted. A lot of that was backed in analytics and fit. That was a new thing for us.”
Assistant coach Mike Brown uses Sidhu’s formula to generate a defensive metric that rates each player. If they have a bad week, it dips downward and Brown publicizes it to the team. It’s been a strategy that several players believe has raised internal accountability and, in turn, defensive effort.
Kerr, admittedly not an analytics-friendly coach, has come to love expected field goal percentage as a postgame metric. Sidhu’s system judges a player’s typical percentage based on a certain zone, the nearest defender and other varying factors to determine the likelihood of any given shot attempt.
That resulting number, instead of the traditional field goal percentage, gives a more accurate representation of the type of shots created and the health of the offense on any given night. Kerr once referenced the stat during a pregame media session before a game against the Jazz. A Utah media member asked Kerr which tracking system he uses. SportVU? Synergy? One of those other complicated systems?
Kerr expressed confusion.
“Uhh,” Kerr said. “Pabail.”
Sidhu works closest with Atkinson on the Warriors’ coaching staff. Atkinson was on the list of analytically friendly assistant coach candidates the front office presented to Kerr last summer.
“One of the reasons I hired Kenny was his feel for analytics,” said Kerr, who formerly had Sammy Gelfand as his analytics guy before Detroit poached him in 2018. “To have Kenny as the liaison between the coaching staff and the analytics department has been massive. Kenny is really well-versed on that stuff. He’s a believer. This year has been the first time I think we’ve achieved the right balance.”
Jordan Poole slicing and dicing against Dallas. (Jack Arent / NBAE via Getty Images)
The Warriors initially hired Mike Dunleavy Jr. in late 2018 to be a pro scout. He lived in New York City and — a 15-year veteran who was the son of an NBA coach — had generated a life-long, league-wide Rolodex. He also happened to live in an area of the country where league intel flowed and the Warriors lacked an insider.
Myers once represented Dunleavy as an agent. Their close friendship clearly played a pivotal role in his hiring and quick ascent up the ranks.
“In this job, you really need confidants,” said Kerr, once a general manager in Phoenix. “You really need someone you can confide in and lean on. I know Mike has meant that to Bob. Mike’s also really bright, played the game, knows the NBA.”
After attending several Eastern Conference games, Dunleavy gained an immediate taste for the profession. He asked for more responsibility. The college basketball season hit its stride and they sent him out to scout. The Warriors spread their executives around the country to watch conference tournaments. Dunleavy was assigned the 2019 Big Ten Tournament. That’s the weekend he became a vocal Jordan Poole believer, convinced the skill, shooting touch and creativity could translate to the NBA if cultivated and developed correctly.
Dunleavy wasn’t alone. LaMont Peterson and Reggie Rankin, the Warriors’ two lead scouts, were on board, and Larry Harris, the assistant general manager in charge of the Warriors’ draft process, became a Poole advocate.
Poole wasn’t without question marks. John Beilein, his college coach, wasn’t the most complimentary of his former player in the pre-draft process. Beilein had become the Cavaliers’ head coach. Cleveland had the 26th pick. The Cavs passed on Poole and selected Dylan Windler. That circumstance gave the Warriors draft room pause. But their consensus big board had Poole as the highest-ranked player when they were on the clock for pick No. 28.
Joe Lacob might be more involved in the draft process than any other owner. He attends workouts, involves himself in interviews and forms strong opinions. He has the power to overrule. But everyone involved insists he listens and empowers those he’s hired.
For example, Lacob was fond of Corey Kispert as an option for the No. 14 pick the Warriors owned in the 2021 draft. But he was prepared to defer to his scouts and the room’s consensus, which had Trey Murphy III as the higher-ranked selection. It didn’t end up mattering. Moses Moody fell to 14. The Warriors had Moody in their top 10.
Myers operates similarly. He and Lacob ultimately make every personnel decision and shoulder the public credit and blame. Still, they maintain a collaborative approach.
“I’ve always taken the tact of ‘I speak the least and I speak last,'” Myers said. “I don’t want to influence your decision. I don’t want to browbeat. I want to give you a full platform to say whatever you want. If I start out in the meeting saying who I like, it’s undoubtedly going to influence what you say.”
The Wiseman, Moody and Jonathan Kuminga draft picks are too early to judge. Kuminga and Moody look like early hits. Wiseman hasn’t been healthy. His rookie season was rough and Kerr, on the coaching side, admits he could have “done better trying to fit James into a more comfortable situation.”
Next season, Wiseman’s third, is massive. The Warriors’ front office always tries to give any draft pick at least three seasons before coming to any strong conclusions. Good thing, too, because Poole didn’t break out until his third season.
Poole’s rapid rise has been one of the most vital factors in reigniting a dormant dynasty. Grabbing him 28th is a defining win for a front office that now includes Dunleavy in a prominent role. Dunleavy, even amid Poole’s early career struggles, was one of the more vocal behind-the-scenes believers Poole was worthy of patience.
His breakout season changes the perception of the Warriors’ recent draft history. Their four-year run of late first-round picks, which include center Damian Jones and wing Jacob Evans, looks so much better now with the growth of Poole and Kevon Looney.
“Probably not a popular choice at the time,” Myers said of the Poole draft. “We had to have conviction. Some people would say we shouldn’t do this because he’s not rated very high in the mock drafts. That stuff is powerful, to be honest. Getting an immediate F is never great. We hear it.”
Dunleavy left New York City in 2019 and moved to the Bay Area, committing full throttle to a front-office role. He’s around the team regularly. He travels on many road trips. He’s a leading voice for many of the daily on-the-ground decisions, as compared to Harris, who runs the scouting leg of the front office from Dallas. Dunleavy’s promotion means the Warriors now need a new scout based on the East Coast. Jonnie West, director of pro personnel, is based in Los Angeles and handles the West Coast.
In comparing the structure to previous versions of the front office, Dunleavy’s advancing role is akin to Schlenk’s. He’s right under Myers from a personnel decision-making standpoint, next to Kirk Lacob, who dabbles between the basketball and business sides. His trajectory seems to be as his father’s likelier successor, running the entire franchise.
Dunleavy wasn’t the only recent hire with playing experience. In 2020, the Warriors convinced Shaun Livingston to join the front office. He currently sits right in that upper layer, next to Kirk Lacob, Dunleavy and Harris.
Livingston’s job is crucial. He’s a connector between the veteran core, the coaching staff and the executive branch. There isn’t another human in the building who can navigate those waters as seamlessly.
“Shaun can say to Bob, ‘Hey, if you do this, this is how Steph’s going to feel and this is what Draymond’s going to think,'” Kerr said. “It might not determine the actual move that’s made, but it could determine the process. It could determine whether you do something or not.”
Myers said they sought Livingston’s perspective when weighing whether to add three teenage lottery picks to this core. Livingston was 19 when he joined the Clippers and spent his first couple of seasons behind Marko Jarić and Sam Cassell. Livingston’s advice: Bet on talent and trust your culture to guide them through an inevitably rocky road. Livingston is an immense part of that culture.
“I would say his value is in his presence, his maturity, his experience,” Myers said. “We use that for everything. We’re talking about player development. What’s the best way to develop Kuminga? That means he’s talking to Kuminga. But he’s also talking to Jama (Mahlalela, director of player development) and he’s talking to Steve and saying, ‘This is how I’d utilize him. This is how I’d prepare him. This is what I’d tell him.’ If Kuminga or Moody or Wiseman is great in three years, he will have a big hand in it.”
That’s often how it works for a front office. Validation or condemnation is delayed for weeks, months, years, depending on the gravity and ramifications of the move. But the end of any season is always a valuable checkpoint.
And the Warriors are back in the Finals. Many didn’t believe they would get back here, and the front office was often singled out as one of the reasons. But they are on the verge of a fourth championship, they have a thriving core still proving to be elite and a collection of young talent that bodes well for the future.
It seems Myers is correct. They aren’t idiots. They do know a little bit.
“The organization is significantly bigger,” Joe Lacob said. “We’ve added a lot of depth all the way through. People have gotten more experience and maturity. These guys are going to grow. They’re going to get jobs in other places. Just like our coaches. You expect some of that. But it’s the same principles and we run it the same way. I’m still here. Bob’s been here 10 years. Steve has been here eight. Kirk has been here with me for 12 years. It’s the same organization. We just keep adding firepower, which is how any good organization should run.”
Connected
When I watch the Celtics play, especially late in the year and in the playoffs, the word I think about is 'connected.' They are connected on both ends of the floor, but especially on the defensive end. The hardest teams to beat - and the best teams I've ever coached - are connected. They play for one another, with an unselfish mentality, as one unit.
Connected teams are tough to beat because they refuse to let one another down. Every team wants to win, they want to execute the game plan and they want to help their teammates. But not every team is fully connected. There is a difference when you are playing for one another, with a bond that drives your competitive edge.
Connected teams are great to coach and tough to beat. How do you get there? It's interesting to look at the Celtics journey this year, under first-year head coach Ime Udoka. They were a bit of a mess early in the year, with Marcus Smart calling out his teammates for selfish play. They seemed disconnected for the better part of two months. Clearly, getting connected doesn't happen overnight. But there are certain approaches that can help you get there.
A great place to start is to celebrate unselfishness. Define the actions that are unselfish and help your team win - the extra pass, calling out screens loud and early, communicating in rotation on defense - and make sure you celebrate them constantly. Give out an extra point in drills for an assisted basket to emphasize the importance of ball movement. Work on scramble situations where everyone has to work together to get a stop. You don't have to force people to share the ball or sprint back on defense. Define them as a way of taking care of your teammates and get your players bought in to one another.
We often use the word 'chemistry' when it comes to teams that play well together, but I define it as an unselfish approach to playing the right way. And the right way is what helps our team win. I don't necessarily think that all of your players have to like hanging out with each other to be able to play well together on the floor (although it certainly doesn't hurt). They have to be committed to one another on the floor, and it's hard to do that if they aren't unselfish.
Another aspect of connected teams is a relentless competitive edge. Connected teams play really hard, and they don't take plays off. It's one of the things I loved about the Heat-Celtics series. Both teams compete at a high level all of the time as part of their DNA. Again, I think everyone wants to win, but a competitive edge is different. It's built over time, and it's build with discipline and accountability in what you do every day. I'm not really sure how to manage that over an NBA season, with teams playing over 100 games. I understand why there are some nights in that league where the players just don't seem to compete. I'm not sure how you can do it at a high level over that many games. Creating competition around everything you do in your program will help create a connected group. Define what it means to compete in your program and demand it. Don't ever let up on competing. Make sure your players know they are in an environment every day where their best approach is expected.
I've talked a lot in this space about the importance of a defined defensive system, and I think it's a big part of your team being connected. They have to know exactly what is expected of them, with no grey area. Most players grow up with an understanding of how to play offense - when to pass the ball, when to shoot the ball, etc. But how to defend as a team isn't taught as much, and doesn't come as naturally. To be connected as a unit on the defensive end there can be no doubt. You can make mistakes. But there can't be any uncertainty. Decide how you want your team to play, teach it to them clearly, and then drill it every day, until it becomes second nature.
Personnel always makes a difference, so consider the make-up of your team when it comes to forming a connected group. Both the Celtics and the Heat are great examples, when you look at players like Jimmy Butler and Marcus Smart. They both play like the are trying to make the team, night in and night out. So many of the players on both teams play that way. It helps to have guys with something to prove on your roster. Overachievers and guys with a chip on their shoulder will go a long way towards your teams connectivity. There is no big ego with them, just blue collar work ethic. I've always said I want a couple of guys on my team who aren't "good enough" to be there. They drive the competitive edge and the commitment you need to have to one another to be elite.
I've also found that it helps to play a lot of guys. It's harder to get everyone bought in to your culture if there are haves and have-nots, and certain guys know they are going to play, regardless of what happens day to day. Playing time needs to be earned, and I'm not saying you just play 11 to see if it's a good idea. But give everyone an opportunity to earn real minutes and it will add to the connection you are looking for.
Connected teams are great to coach and hard to beat. It helps to have great players with no ego like Jimmy Butler, but those guys are pretty rare. You can help your team become more connected with the right personnel and the right approach.
Earn Your Time
An old article I've always liked about how Chris Haack, the golf coach at Georgia, sets his lineup. The players have to earn it, in competitive practice rounds, every week.
https://www.golfchannel.com/article/college-central/uga-coach-makes-players-earn-their-playing-time
Motivational Interviewing
From Adam Grant's book "Think Again."
In the early 1980 a clinical psychologist named Bill Miller was troubled by his field's attitude toward people with addictions. It was common for therapists and counselors to accuse their substance-abusing clients of being pathological liars who were living in denial. That didn't track with what Miller was seeing up close in his own work treating people with alcohol problems, where preaching and prosecuting typically boomeranged. "People who drink too much are usually aware of it," Miller told me. "If you try to persuade them that they do drink too much or need to make a change, you evoke resistance, and they are less likely to change."
Instead of attacking or demeaning his clients, Miller started asking them questions and listening to their answers. Motivational interviewing starts with an attitude of humility and curiosity. We don't know what might motivate someone else to change, but we're genuinely eager to find out. The goal isn't to tell people what to do; it's to help them break out of overconfidence cycles and see new possibilities. our role is to hold up a mirror so they can see themselves more clearly, and then empower them to examine their beliefs and behaviors. That can activate a rethinking cycle, in which people approach their own views more scientifically. They develop more humility about their knowledge, doubt in their convictions and curiosity about alternative points of view.
The process of motivational interviewing involves three key techniques:
- Asking open-ended questions
- Engaging in reflective listening
- Affirming the person's desire and ability to change
Listening well is more than a matter of talking less. It's a set of skills in asking and responding. It starts with showing more interest in other people's interests rather than trying to judge their status or prove our own. We can all get better at asking "truly curious questions that don't have the hidden agenda of fixing, saving, advising, convincing or correcting," journalist Kate Murphy writes, and helping to "facilitate the clear expression of another persons thoughts."
Many communicators try to make themselves look smart. Great listeners are more interested in making their audiences feel smart.
What if you took this approach in your conversations with your players? Would you get more out of them? Would it make you a better coach?
Lead From Behind
“It is better to lead from behind and to put others in front, especially when you celebrate victory when a nice thing occurs. You take the front line when there is danger. Then people would appreciate your leadership.” – Nelson Mandela
It takes great courage to lead your team from behind.
Nick Saban on Presence
From a recent article in The Athletic about how college football coaches hire assistants. Nick Saban nails it on the importance of presence for anyone who eventually wants to be a head coach.
Saban goes, ‘Hey, let me tell you something. I’m not worried about what they know. Is he able to articulate what he’s trying to say? Does he have presence?’” Saban proceeded to give his new guy a dissertation about owning a room. “If this guy doesn’t have a confident feel to him, and if he gets in a room with strong personalities, they’re gonna see through this guy. It’s not about, ‘Does this guy know the best pass play versus Cover-2?’ It’s, ‘Is this guy a fit for our program?’”
Tom House
King of Throws
A really good New York Times article on pitching coach Tom House, who goes about teaching and coaching with a different approach.
Tom House rebuilt Nolan Ryan and fixed Randy Johnson. He worked with Tom Brady and Drew Brees. At 75, he has reinvented himself (again) with an app that teaches young players to pitch the right way.
When most of the world first became familiar with Tom House, he was catching Hank Aaron’s record-breaking 715th homer in 1974. House, then a relief pitcher for Atlanta, was stationed in the bullpen beyond the left-field fence at Fulton County Stadium, just where the ball happened to come down.
Exactly as House had planned it.
As it turned out, House was more than just a guy in the right place at the right time. Watch the clip on YouTube, and you’ll see a rooted figure who takes not so much as a shuffle step in either direction. All House had to do was lift his glove and catch the ball.
The man on the mound, Dodgers pitcher Al Downing, was, like House, a soft-tossing left-hander. House, having pitched spring training batting practice to Aaron, had an idea what might happen.
“If the pitch was outside and elevated, I knew he would hit it to left-center field,” House said. “So when I got the choice of where I wanted to be, where do you think I put myself?”
In just the right spot, of course. House has exhibited that kind of knack throughout his decades-spanning career in which catching a milestone homer barely cracks the list of interesting things about him.
After eight years as a big league pitcher, and eight more as a big league pitching coach, he earned a doctorate in sports psychology to better understand how pitchers think. He wrote or co-wrote 22 books on pitching. So profound are his theories about how human arms release small objects that a parade of N.F.L. quarterbacks, including Tom Brady and Drew Brees, has come to him for mechanical tutelage.Sign up for the Sports Newsletter Get our most ambitious projects, stories and analysis delivered to your inbox every week. Get it sent to your inbox.
His influence, and the loyalty it has garnered, got some attention last September, during an episode of the “Manningcast” edition of “Monday Night Football,” when Eli Manning was discussing Cowboys quarterback Dak Prescott’s outlandish warm-up routine. Manning exuberantly explained, “That’s the Tom House stuff!
It is reasonable to suggest that nobody on the planet knows more about throwing things than Tom House. And after decades of perfecting the mechanics of some of the greatest athletes to walk the planet — sometimes going as far as fixing the flaws in an opponent’s delivery, only to watch that opponent subsequently beat his team — House has shifted gears with a simple goal for his latest act: Fixing the way young players throw baseballs — for free.
Taking It to the People
Today, House is putting his knowledge and experience into an app called Mustard, designed to help parents and coaches correct mechanical flaws in young pitchers. The app’s A.I., built from tens of thousands of three-dimensional models he has compiled over decades of motion-capture studies, analyzes uploaded video and makes recommendations for things like head angle and hip separation. It then feeds the user an assortment of recorded drills, almost all of them executable without the need of a partner, to address whatever issues are identified.
In an age when exclusive coaching carries more cachet than ever, the Mustard team keeps the bulk of the service free, House said, to democratize instruction and keep children involved. (Mustard also includes a subscription model that allows access to seminars and sessions featuring House and assorted big leaguers.)
The face of that democratic movement is a 75-year-old coach who has made a career of working with Hall of Famers yet loves to post earnest encouragements of young players and coaches on Twitter— he insists all the posts come directly from him.
Of huge concern to House is the astounding number of 13-year-olds in this country who quit organized sports by the time they reach high school — 70 percent of them, according to a poll by the National Alliance for Youth Sports. “Giving out elite instruction to 12-year-olds not only helps them play better, but with more fun,” House said. “It keeps them in the sport.”
It is not as simple as that, of course. By House’s calculations, every inch of growth or five pounds gained pushes a growing teenager backward neurophysiologically by two months.
“A 6-foot-7 18-year-old is going to be three years behind a 6-foot-1 18-year-old because of the massive road trip between big toe and release point,” he said.
Coaching 10-year-olds is very different from coaching 16-year-olds. This is all baked into the equation. And House is thriving as a voice of reason who is unafraid to issue a controversial opinion even as he exudes warmth for baseball and its participants.
A Pioneer in the Field
Keen analysis of players’ bodies and movements should not be surprising when it comes to House, who was an early adopter of training technology, even as the rest of baseball actively rejected such things. In the 1980s, he encountered Gideon Ariel, who competed in the Olympics for Israel in the discus and the shot-put and became a pioneer in the field of motion capture. House was so taken by the process that he sold his stake in a San Diego baseball school, where he taught in the off-season, and took a second mortgage on his home to purchase the equipment for use on pitchers.
Not long after, the Texas Rangers, fresh off a 92-loss, last-place season in 1984, came calling. General Manager Tom Grieve, 37 at the time, had just hired Bobby Valentine, who was only 35 himself, as manager. The young-gun organization didn’t have money to hire an adequate scouting department; both men knew that sticking with the status quo would not be enough.
House, they decided, was a perfect fit.
He brought Ariel’s system to Arlington and recorded Rangers pitchers in previously unheard-of ways. He connected with a Canadian Olympic rowing coach who used thermography — heat maps — to help gauge recovery time. He installed a weight room (an unusual technique because of a longstanding fear of compromised flexibility) and focused on the rear-facing rotator cuff muscles that serve as de facto brakes for the arm. Given the increased gravity of working down a mound, House concluded, deceleration after a pitch causes more damage than everything leading up to it. “If your accelerators are stronger than your decelerators,” he said, “you’re going to break.”
Fortunately for House, his new manager afforded a very long leash for such theorizing.
“We converted a closet into a little lab with three VHS recording machines and two tiny TVs,” Valentine said of House’s setup. “When we started doing motion capture, Tom showed a javelin thrower, a left-handed tennis player and Kenny Rogers, who was a young, lefty pitcher on our team. Then he showed how, at strike point — as the racket hit the ball or the ball left the hand — the front leg was firm and the front side had stopped. The bodies and the arms all looked identical. When I saw that, I said, ‘Wow, you’re on to something here.’”
House expanded his experimentation to the realms of sleep and nutrition, things that today are standard in big league clubhouses but were a shock to the 1980s system. He created subliminal audiotapes to aid visualization. (“I really wanted my voice on those tapes,” Valentine said. “Tom never let me.”)
House’s primary weakness as a pitching coach — and on this he will agree — was that he was more interested in process than outcome. Failure was tolerable if it benefited a player’s long-term goals, which was a problem in a sport that pays big league coaches to win games. The Rangers’ front office, however, understood that House’s methods had long-term value.
“I trusted Tom implicitly,” Grieve said. “If he wanted to teach his guys to throw left-handed instead of right-handed, I wasn’t going to tell him not to do it.”
Because most of House’s alchemy occurred behind closed doors, few outside the program had any real idea about what he was doing.
That all changed with a football.
At some point along the way, House realized that the mechanics for throwing footballs and baseballs were identical, so he started putting pigskins in his pitchers’ hands. Tight spirals on a football made for easy assessment, offering a visual clue about whether the pitcher was doing things correctly. Moreover, the weight of the football built functional strength and aided in recovery for pitchers, not to mention it was a workout they enjoyed.
In football-crazy Texas, the sight of Rangers pitchers playing quarterback in the outfield before games was nothing short of sacrilege. Soon, their coach earned a slew of pejorative nicknames like Nuthouse and Outhouse. Even pitcher Charlie Hough got in on the action, joking once to The Los Angeles Times, “We’re leading the league in third-down conversions.”
Then Nolan Ryan showed up.
When Ryan joined the Rangers as a free agent before the 1989 season, he was 42 years old and 22 years into a career that had largely established him as the greatest power pitcher in baseball history. Two hundred seventy-three wins were augmented by 4,775 strikeouts, the most in history by a wide margin.
As it turned out, one of the right-hander’s greatest strengths was his curiosity. Ryan agreed to give the footballs a try, and soon found himself immersed in an injury-prevention program aimed at prolonging a career that was already historically durable. “There was an instant connection,” Grieve said.
The moment reporters saw Ryan — a cattle-ranching Texan who had earned intense respect in the state — tossing a football with teammates, criticism of the practice disappeared.
“That drill was different, and the traditional baseball people didn’t believe in it,” Ryan said. “Because of that, I think Tom got the stonewall from a lot of different angles. He didn’t deserve it.”
Over Ryan’s first three years with Texas, during which he was 42, 43 and 44 years old, he went 41-25 with a 3.20 E.R.A. and led the league in strikeouts twice, whiffing three times as many men as he walked — something he had done only once to that point.
“Nolan was better after age 40 than before,” House said. “He threw three pitches to two locations, and fewer pitches per inning. He added a changeup. He never got hurt. That was this Hall of Fame time.”
“Tom helped me slow down the aging process,” Ryan said. “He brought recovery to my attention — how long it takes to recuperate from a start and be ready again five days later. That was very different at 44 than it was at 24, and the routine we developed was vital to my process.”
It almost defies belief, but five of the Rangers’ nine primary pitchers during Ryan’s first two seasons with the club — the other four being Hough, Rogers, Kevin Brown and Jamie Moyer — played into their 40s. Ryan, Hough and Moyer make the list of the eight oldest players of the modern era. They were righties and lefties, control artists and fireballers and each was looking for ways to extend their careers. No matter their demographic, they had one thing in common: They all learned how to maintain their pitching arms from Tom House.
‘I’m a Teacher First’
Randy Johnson was struggling. It was 1992, and Johnson, a tall left-hander with a Ryan-like fastball, was in his fourth full big league season. His talents, though, were undercut by a profound lack of control. At 6 feet 10 inches, Johnson simply possessed too many moving parts for consistent coordination. When the Rangers arrived in Seattle that August, Johnson was 2-7 over his previous nine starts, having walked 52 batters over 56 innings while posting a 5.46 E.R.A.
From the visitors’ dugout, House and Ryan knew what he was going through. House had followed Johnson, a fellow University of Southern California alumnus, since the pitcher’s college days. Ryan had once been a wild fireballer himself, leading the league in walks eight times in an 11-year span. In 1989, however, which was Ryan’s first season under House, the 42-year-old topped 300 strikeouts for the first time in a decade while walking only 98.
He and House wanted to help Johnson. A meeting was arranged for early in the morning, before anyone else arrived at the Kingdome. The three men talked through Johnson’s mechanical issues, and House offered one primary suggestion: He wanted Johnson to land on the ball of his foot instead of his heel while striding toward the plate. The results were immediate.
“I’d been losing my arm slot, falling off toward the third-base side, and that tip helped me stay balanced,” Johnson said. “I didn’t play for the Texas Rangers, but Tom helped me anyway. That meeting was extremely impactful.”
Johnson closed his season by striking out 117 batters over his final 11 starts while walking only 47 and shaving about two full runs off his E.R.A. That dominant stretch included a game in September in which he struck out 18 Rangers batters — a result that gained extra notice when Johnson credited House with his improvement.
For House, any negative attention he drew was worth having helped a struggling pitcher. “I’m a teacher first and everything else second,” he said. “It wasn’t even a question for me, really.”
It was certainly worth it for Johnson, who pitched until he was 46, winning 303 games and five Cy Young Awards, while striking out 4,875 batters, the second most in history behind Ryan.
Discussing that meeting decades later, Johnson, now a Hall of Famer, was left with one nagging question.
“That help that Tom House gave me — why didn’t I get it in high school, or in college, or in four years of the minor leagues?” he said. “Why couldn’t someone else have seen it along the way?”
Why? Because Tom House has made a career of seeing things that other people can’t. He continues to prove it every day, with a decidedly 2022 approach of having an A.I. version of his deep knowledge available to any player who wants to download it. It is a teaching method that could and should outlive him. To House, having a say in the future of how the game is played is all he needs to make it worth the time and effort.
“I’m 75 years old, and we’re here talking about Mustard,” he said. “It makes me realize that we’re just getting started.”
Let Them Be Themselves
Not everyone is a natural, vocal leader. Not everyone shows great emotion when they play. Not everyone is naturally talking or engaging with their teammates on the court. Not everyone handles success and failure the same way.
I had Arkansas coach Eric Musselman on my Dynamic Leadership Podcast and we talked about his approach with is players. He told me that he used to demand leadership out of all of his players. I asked him what he did with guys that just weren't comfortable leading and he gave me an interesting quote. He said he finally asked himself "Why am I forcing a sandwich down his throat when he isn't hungry?"
That quote has always stuck with me when I think about my approach to coaching players. While I do think you can (and should) require leadership of all of your players, there is a way to define leadership to make it comfortable and accessible to everyone. Not everyone is going to be comfortable speaking up, providing emotion, or criticizing their teammates when it is necessary. It doesn't mean they don't want to win or they can't lead. It's just that approach doesn't fit their personality.
It strikes me that there are a lot of teams out there where we expect and demand traditional leadership (positive energy, speaking up) out of many of our older and better players, and we don't really expect it out of our younger players. But there are plenty of those younger players who are actually better, more comfortable natural leader than their older teammates. Still, we expect it and demand it out of some older guys who don't want to do it.
I've learned that if you force your players out of their personality comfort zone on the court, you aren't going to get the most out of them. I had a first team all-league center for two years at Rhode Island College named Mike Akinrola, one of the best players I've coached. For a year I was trying to get him to show more fire, to speak up more, to be more of a "leader" in the traditional sense, and it just didn't fit his personality. I was trying to stuff that sandwich in his mouth. When I finally realized he wasn't comfortable with the vocal leadership approach, I left him alone, and I got the most out of him. I told him he needed to lead by being our best player every day - in how he approached practice and how hard he competed. He did just that. He was a monster in practice every single day in the way he competed. That was a comfortable way of leading for him, and I needed to recognize that. When I asked him to do something he wasn't comfortable with, I was making him worse.
We've all coached players who are naturally quiet and don't like to talk. They just keep to themselves, on and off the court. Expecting those guys to become really vocal players on the court just isn't going to happen. Yes, there is a certain level of communication you have to have to be a good teammate - talking defensively, executing plays - but as far as being a vocal leader, it just isn't going to happen. Those guys are uncomfortable talking when they don't need to, and forcing them to try and do it isn't going to help. Some players can't do their job when they are talking.
It's not as simple, however, as just leaving everyone alone. Of course you have to coach your players to get better, and you don't simply want to accept their shortcomings. You have to figure out who they are and where you can make them better. But when it comes to their personality, I don't think you are going to change much. That laid back kid isn't going to grow into being an emotional barometer for your team. The quiet kid who stays to himself won't be your vocal leader. Yes, you can work on helping them to come out of their shell and be better in those areas. But if you spend a lot of time trying to force them to be someone they aren't comfortable with, you'll make them worse.
It's all about knowing who your players are and figuring out how to get the most out of them. Too often we have an idea of what a senior leader is supposed to look like or how our veteran players should act on the court. Not everyone is going to fit into the mold you have for your team. Getting the most out of them is more about who they are than about what you want to see. Forcing a sandwich down their throat when they aren't hungry isn't the way to go.
Someone Else Is Open
Time and score rule: Someone else is open. Everyone defensively gets attracted to the ball.
Smart took 3 dribbles before he got ripped. Look across the court.