That One Key Quality
A screaming two-year-old at the pool the other day made me think of this: I’ve seen a lot of poor coaching over the years, which raises the question: What is a good coach’s most important quality?
That two-year-old was having a swim lesson, but really she was far too little to be doing anything constructive like blowing bubbles or kicking her legs. The water was a little chilly and the circumstances apparently terrifying, and her parents, who had been a little too ambitious with this whole endeavor to begin with, were also quick to pluck her away from the poor lifeguard at every scream.
At my Catholic prep school, the ‘Duke,’ the legendary football coach in the mold of Bear Bryant, though named in the vein of John Wayne, was little more than a bully on the rare occasions he went to the trouble of saying anything. His mystique rested squarely upon keeping his mouth shut, which compelled his players to think that he was the solemn guardian of some sacred tradition they had to honor. They responded - giving the Duke a legendary career, though with that level of player talent and the superb cadre of assistant coaches, the school nurse could have compiled the same record.
In Guam I was under the tutelage of a prominent Judo sensei who had been a ranked competitor on the US national level and gone on to develop important international and Olympic connections. He had little use for actual coaching. He also disappeared for long stretches, probably discouraged at how his best players lost interest in only a few months’ time. In the 100 degree dojo, we’d practice a few a few throws, after which he’d bark the command, ‘Randori!’ which meant fight practice. He was frustrated that I wasn’t improving as a fighter, to which I’d reply, ‘Tell me what I should be doing,’ because the throws we were practicing certainly didn’t have any bearing on randori. I definitely wouldn’t jump out of a plane with a parachute or dive underwater with a scuba tank boasting the efficacy of a Judo throw. I was getting my clock cleaned by those advanced players who would lose interest after two or three months. If the sensei wasn’t teaching anything, how did they become advanced enough to throw me? They had been similarly brutalized by a previous set of players who had been through the same routine, losing interest when progress stopped.
If the ideal climate a coach can create consists of a winning team and confident, self assured players who are working hard and having fun, then how do we get there?
The single most important quality a coach must have is the ability to confer simple tools for success. The strength coach has to know how to get kids stronger. The judo sensei has to show students how to gain leverage and position so that throws actually work. Granted, the basketball coach teaching six-year-olds how to dribble is in a very different position from the high school coach teaching plays and defenses, but the skill in question for any athlete must be clearly defined and within reach.
Hall of Fame quarterback Sonny Jurgensen said that of the nine coaches for whom he played, his favorite, Vince Lombardi, was the only one who ever simplified the game for him.
The relationship between a player and coach is first and foremost a transaction. Players will be happy to put in the work; they’ll be there early and stay late, or show ‘mental toughness’ - and all the other nonsense people write about too much - if the reward is imminent.
If there’s no progress, then it’s all pointless. The kid is not going to get off the bench, or lift any more weight, and soon they’re checked out, mentally if not physically. The coach who relies on motivation, whether he’s a nice guy or a bastard, will also be miserable if the kids fail to deliver.
If Vince Lombardi was tough on his players, it was because he demanded they use the tools he provided. Sonny Jurgensen always sported a gut, about which other coaches had always given him flak. ‘How come you never mentioned it?’ he once asked Lombardi.
‘Because if you can make it through my practices, I’ll know you’re in shape, with or without that belly.’
Lombardi ran his teams hard. Everyone participated in extensive conditioning. The punt returner for the Redskins, where Lombardi spent his last season, said that for the first time in his career, his teammates were capable of running out ahead of him and blocking.
Lombardi’s players loved him not for his determination or inspiration or any other extraneous qualities. It was because he specifically, fundamentally taught them how to play great football.
If he were at the pool the other day, he might have pulled those young parents aside. ‘That little one only wants to hang on her Daddy’s neck - so let her. You zoom around the pool with and without a kickboard, and with that turtle she likes. After a while, see if she’ll hold the kickboard, and down the line try getting her into a lifejacket. This is purely acclimation. Don’t worry about the swimming. If she’s having fun, she’ll be greased lightning before you know it.’
