The Things They Carried (Coaching Legacies)

A while back, Mark Twain wrote “Rumors of my demise are greatly exaggerated.” A bit more recently, I wrote something on what I wanted as my coaching epitaph. That led to a follow up on the beauty of new starts, figuring I was done actively coaching.

Yeah, well…it turns out Michael Corleone was the correct guy.

But I haven’t stopped thinking about legacies. The title of this blog is taken from Tim O’Brien’s novel about Vietnam. It may be the best novel out there explaining Vietnam from a regular soldier’s viewpoint along with the aftereffects/consequences of that service.

Sometimes the consequences of going through something can be large, visible, obvious. An Olympic victory yields a massive gold medal. Winning a conference or a national title or a Super Bowl or World Series–those lead to big jewelry, too. For a younger player, going through several years of travel ball can yield a full-ride scholarship or for basketball/baseball, a professional contract, maybe even generational wealth.

But life’s not about the obvious. It’s also about the butterfly effect. Something that happens to you as a young person, a brief moment, can be a catalyst for something wildly different 20+ years down the road. Take a moment–think about the little things you remember but no one else does–the things you’ve determined are important for *YOU*. What consequences have they had?

Now–consider that every time you say something or do something as a coach or teacher of young people, you are potentially creating a similar moment. You have the potential for great good…and great harm. Maybe both.

Okay–so that’s the deep stuff. I had a smile recently because of ‘legacies’…and that led me to more smiles:

So, many years ago when I was a HS coach the first time around, I created a drill that players don’t like. It’s hard, it’s repetitive–but it’s skill appropriate, it moves fast, and it works. It also shows kids who are willing to cut corners to get thru something they don’t like. We did this daily. When I became a college coach–yup, the drill went with me and my college athletes did it every day just like my HS athletes did.

Let me re-emphasize, the ‘hate’ for this drill is universal. Alumni have made memes about it, made PTSD jokes about it, and at the end of a last spring practice would ALWAYS dance that they never had to do the drill ever again. 5-10-20 years later…they all still groan if I utter one word: Corners.

Where it gets funny? A whole ton of those alumni–all hating the drill–have gone on to be coaches, something like 40 of them. And guess what. Every last one of them, the first thing they do…the drill they despise. And I always point out “Hey, you hated that drill.” And the response, “I’m not doing it…and we never said it didn’t work or make us better. It just sucks.”

I also like that they can imitate me impeccably:

Halloween, 2015…even with the watch.

Halloween, 2020…again, the polo and the gold watch.

There’s the terminology that I’ve heard them use–technical terms like “thwank” and “borkball”.

It’s weird what sticks.

***

So that made me think back to where I got some of my mannerism–Jim Stone. I really wish I’d written down all the phrases he used–but there are three coming to mind this morning:

1 – “Tick-tock, tick-tock. I’m getting older here.” –for when players weren’t hustling in between drills or getting on buses, etc.

2 – “We’re sweating, but we’re not getting better.”

3 – use of the word ‘Okay’.

#3 is the biggie. I think every one of the people who worked for/with Jim came away using that word. With Jim, ‘okay’ has as many uses as the proverbial meanings of ‘snow’ to Eskimos.

*The 1994 Big Ten/Final Four team–yeah, we were okay. *The 1992 team rebuilding behind sophomores—we’ll be okay. *The 18-u USA National Team that won a gold medal…We were okay throughout the tournament. *Watching a kid not good enough to be able to play in the Big 10…she’s okay.

Isn’t that a fascinating mannerism to imprint on the people around you? It’s stuck with me as a coach. It’s stuck with OSU alumni. Throughout years, I’ve evolved in what I emphasize, the terms I use to give feedback to kids. I’ve changed my offensive and defensive systems, I’ve changed how often I raise my voice, the works, but …

…what has stuck with me throughout? Using the word ‘okay’ in all its 100+ Stone-variations.

So when you think about your players–whether they are 10, 15, or 21-yr olds…they are carrying you with them in some fashion every day–likewise, you’re carrying them. They are shaping you with every moment you share with them.

And if it all works out–we’ll all be okay.