About 10 years ago a young man (we will call him Eddie) came to visit one of my practices. He was a friend of one of our star players (we will call him Tim), and he was visiting us during our season because he had decided to quit playing at the the college he was presently attending. He and his family had gone through the necessary NCAA paperwork to allow him to actually visit other schools and start talking to other college coaches.
Tim had given me some background before Eddie's visit, so I had an idea of what he was going through. In all honesty, it sounded very similar to what I went through as a college player, so my level of empathy and sympathy was pretty high.
When I sat down with Eddie the first time, it was obvious to me that he was very intelligent, but I could tell that he could be the type of kid who could get bored quickly. He loved to play, but he talked with very little emotion and was a little too laid back for my taste. Although I empathized, I was already wondering if he was a good fit for me.
As a D3 coach at the time, I never got too excited about transfers no matter how much I liked them or we needed them because the decision always came down to money. Our financial aid packages were not great, and they were even worse for transfers. So, when Eddie's family got their package and Eddie called me and told me that he was all in, I was a little surprised, a little excited, and a little concerned all at the same time.
Nevertheless, it wasn't long that next fall when the returning players started talking about his talent with me and how he could help us. He was a top tier high school player, so I started to get very excited and a little relieved that maybe we had something very special land in our lap.
When our official practices began that October, it wasn't long before my initial thoughts about Eddie after our first meeting started to rear their ugly head. As talented as Eddie was, he was not disciplined in his game. He simply did not play the game the way I wanted and expected it to be played. He was sometimes lazy on defense, especially off the ball. He took shots outside of the flow of the offense, and when he drove to the basket, he would often throw up erratic shots when he had a simple pass available to an open teammate. Very quickly, two hard-headed people began to clash, and I began to understand why his last coach pushed him closer and closer to the end of the bench before giving up on him altogether.
My problem was that I needed his talent because we were lacking any depth of high level ability or skill on the roster at that point. So, I did what any "serious" college basketball coach would do with an undisciplined kid, I pushed him harder and harder and started taking playing time and reps away from him. Boy was I bright!
If you haven't guessed yet, I quickly turned Eddie into a blob of insecurity, depression and doubt. He had lost all faith in me and me in him...at least that is the way it looked. Luckily for me, Eddie is much smarter than me and much more determined than me. He wasn't going to let the same story of his basketball career repeat itself.
About 10 games into the season, he came into my office and asked to talk. I don't remember the exact conversation, but I know that he wanted me to know that he had lost all confidence in his abilities, but it was very clear that he had not lost confidence in me (at least not completely). He told me that although he wasn't as disciplined as I expected him to be, he understood everything we were doing and believed that we had enough talent with the system we were using to win more games and win the conference. He explained how he saw the game and why although he might look slow to close out or rotate back to the rim-line at times, he really was thinking and re-acting 2-3 plays ahead of what was happening. He also let me know that he understood my frustration that he sometimes did not swing the ball to an open man quickly enough or throw to that open man at all because he knew he had a better chance of scoring than making that extra pass or decision.
We continued to talk about my experience in college and how depressed and sad I was that "my game" had been taken away from me, and I was not allowed the skills that had made me a half-decent high schooler. I told him that I would watch film and work harder on practice and game planning to integrate his strengths into our game plan and focus less on the perceived weaknesses I was seeing. In short, I decided to give him more rope and work to give him more isolated opportunities to help us put more points on the board.
It may not have happened over night, but it didn't take more than 2-3 games before he was not only consistently our leading scorer, but he began leading our team in steals, turnovers created, all while frustrating the hell out of the other team's best player and defender. Within the first 4-5 games of conference play, it was clear that he was a legit All-Conference player if not the best player in the conference.
He went on to have two dynamic years with us, and he became not only a great leader in our program, but to this day, a young man whose life I envy and his friendship I cherish. He has traveled the world, made great, life-long friends wherever he has been, and he has consistently lived his life to the fullest without boundaries or prejudice and with an astounding respect for all people, cultures and walks of life.
I decided to tell this story today because I am presently having some problems with people attempting to coach me, and it has made me think a lot lately about how I initially coached Eddie.
If you are going to take anything away from this blog, please let it be the difference between a great coach and a great player.
A great player can take a game plan and consistently execute that plan. If a great player begins to struggle with the execution (for instance his jumper stops falling), that player will begin to address the problem. He or she may ask "what do I have to do to fix those missed shots?"
A great coach will NOT look at the problem and ask "How do I fix that?" A great coach will ask "Why is that happening?" or "Why is that a problem at all?" or "What am I doing to create that problem?"
As coaches, teachers, parents, etc., we often get so focused on the problem that we forget to look inward and realize that the problem may actually be us. Have I been engaged enough? Have I been overly critical and not supportive enough? Are my "problems" (i.e. fear, depression, concern, self-doubt, sadness) bleeding into those I love and care about?
We are all human. We all have amazing flaws. Even when a person externally looks and acts with such joy and composure, his or her flaws and concerns are never too far away.
Give yourself a day, a week (a month if you can) and try to start looking more at the good and much less at the bad. Be a bigger cheerleader today for those around you and far less their biggest critic.
Change your personal narrative, and don't be surprised if your story doesn't have a much happier ending than you expected when you first started to write your book.
Coach Matt Rogers
Twitter: @madcoachdiary
Linkedin: www.linkedin.com/in/rogersmatt16
Blog: madcoachdiary.blogspot.com
Phone: (312) 610-6045
Matt Rogers is a 20-year high school and college coach veteran. He has led two teams to the NCAA National Tournament and one team to a High School State Championship. His teams hold numerous school and one NCAA record. He has mentored and coached players at every collegiate level while serving as an athletics administrator at the high school and NCAA levels. He currently is the Senior Recruiting Specialist for NCSA - Next College Student Athlete where he has helped thousands of young men and women from around the world achieve their dreams of playing at the college level. Coach presently lives in the Denver, CO area with his wife of 20 years and his two children.
To request Coach Rogers to speak at your school or event, you can reach him through any of his contact information above.
