How could he do this to me? I thought as I ran forty yard sprints for what seemed like eternity. I’m a captain. The team’s top scorer. Surely missing one practice doesn’t warrant this type of punishment. And plus, it wasn’t my fault…really! I ended up surviving the sprints after all, and learned to set two alarms every Saturday after that. This happened twenty years ago, and still today I remember it as if it was yesterday.
I had seven different coaches, in two sports, during my high school and college playing career. And I remember all of them very well, for different reasons, some in flattering terms, others not so much. Even today, their names come up in conversation whenever I’m reunited with old classmates or teammates. But the coach I remember the most, and respected the most, the coach I speak of in glowing terms, was that sadist who made me run all those sprints twenty years ago.
As coaches, we have not only the opportunity, but the obligation to play a significant role in the lives of the players who choose to play the sport we coach. The opportunity for the player not to just choose to play the sport, but to choose to play for the coach of that sport. After a player completes his youth league or graduates from his high school or college program, it’s interesting what he (she) most remembers about his past playing days. Kids may remember a specific game here or there, or a specific moment of individual glory or team accomplishment. But what I’ve come to learn is that it’s more an indefinable positive, neutral, or negative experience that’s remembered about playing on a team. And more often than not, that reflective fondness, neutrality, or disdain, is in direct correlation with what a player takes away from his coach.
I’ve talked to many former high school players who were on successful teams, who won championships, some of whom earned college scholarships. But when they speak of being on those teams, the experience doesn’t always live up to the accomplishments. Conversely, I’ve heard stories of players who had played on perennial losing teams and their best and most memorable high school experiences were playing lacrosse. Inevitably, it’s the coach that determines what the playing experience becomes for the player. And wow! What a responsibility. What a privilege!
So, what is it that makes a coach someone former players will remember as a coach who made a lasting, positive impact? There are probably hundreds if not thousands of books on the subject dissecting coaching every which way. Philosophy, teaching methods, strategies, motivation—all these things plus lots more are all important ingredients in being a successful coach. But beyond those things, what I remember most about my college lacrosse coach was two things: His dedication and commitment to the sport and his example of that dedication.
We expect a lot from the players on our team, and we should. Expecting them to give us the sacrifice, effort, and commitment necessary to be a part of a team is imperative to what playing a sport is all about. But expecting these things and talking about these things always ring hollow, unless the coach first demonstrates these qualities himself. Any coach can show up two or three hours a day, practice a few drills, put in the minimum time required, and then go home and forget about the team until the next day. But it’s the coach who is truly dedicated, not only to the sport or team, but to the individual players themselves, who is first to practice what he preaches. Young kids, teenagers, young adults (especially boys), are much more attuned to learning, not only physical skills but life skills also, by seeing or observing, rather than by listening.
What was obvious to me, even as a teenager, was the extra time my college coach put in to the game and to our team outside of those three hours a day. He was always the first one on the practice field, and left only when the last player left. Our practices were structured, organized, and well prepared. Not only was the instruction verbal and cognitive, but hands-on as well. It was apparent Coach was fully prepared and had done his homework. It was also clear to all the players, that there was no need for Coach to talk about commitment or dedication. He was the best example of that. No words or speeches were ever needed. When a coach has that kind of ability, and sets that type of example both on and off the field, that’s when not only good coaching happens, but respect is learned and shown by the players. That accomplished, what follows is the foundation of what coaching is all about: Using the sport not only to teach the kids how to play it, but also to become that coach that will always be remembered as someone who had the opportunity to make a long-lasting, positive impact on a kid and delivered.
Chances are that that Gestapo-type college coach of mine would have forever left me with a negative impression of him after all those sprints that day. But because of the respect I had for him (which multiplied after that day of sprints when I quickly learned I wasn’t given special treatment just because I was the “star” of the team), the complete opposite is true. Twenty years later, I have trouble remembering past team records, personal stats, and names of teammates. But I’ll never forget the best coach and the best coaching example I ever had.
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