To Serve Man

No, this is not a cookbook.

Long ago when I was oh-so-young, I looked up to college coaches and administrators. These were people in charge of guiding young people from the end of childhood into adulthood, helping with the burden of being student-athletes (coaches) and making sure quality education was available for thousands of students every semester (administrators). Nothing destroys your naivete like being part of it.

It reminds me of something Bismarck reputedly said, “There are two things you should never see made: sausage and policy.”

In terms of prestige, others perceive me as near the bottom because I’m “only” a two-year college coach. It doesn’t matter the success or experience–where I work defines my status. If this post was written by Kevin Hambly, Jim Stone, or John Kessel, it’d be read by thousands–instead, if you’re reading it, you’re one of a few hundred. Perception is different than reality. Wherever you coach, you have young people in your charge. For me, I’ve got 12-18 kids and an assistant looking to me every day for assistance and decisions I feel will make them better VB players–and help them succeed with finding four-year schools and life after volleyball. The one difference? I have no Ops person, no team secretary (or strength coach, video coordinator, recruiting coordinator, 2nd assistant, etc), being a community college coach–you’re always busy.

Being busy (especially during 2-a-days), between practices, my assistant sometimes runs and grabs me food (I pay her back!) if she’s leaving campus between sessions. The problem is that after a week of this–or across multiple years–what begins as a favor from your assistant starts to feel obligatory, that getting food for the head coach is now part of the job description. You can understand the logic: he’s the head coach, ergo–do what he says. The assistant must do the plebian work because I, the head coach, have more important things to do (you may now kneel and kiss the rings).

This is BAD, horrible, unacceptable. Why? Because as coach, I am there to serve them. I work on behalf of the team. This is the opposite of something Mike Hebert argued–he said the players must do the work because he’s the coach, that the team is there for him. Nope. I strongly disagree. ANYTIME you are in a position of authority–teacher, military officer, business owner, minister, coach, you must remember your real purpose…to serve those who are entrusted to your care. Otherwise, you start to think you’re better than other people, that a D2 juco coach is better than a D3 juco coach, that being at a D1 juco makes you better than D2-3, just because the school is “D1” right on up to the silliness that NCAA > NAIA > two-year colleges.

I’m not innocent of thinking the wrong way. There are times I’ve put myself foremost, asked an assistant to do something I could have done for myself. It’s easy to do, easy to start down the path of letting favors become entitlement and then imperiousness. You must monitor yourself at all times to remember your duty:I am there to serve them.

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The thing is–this isn’t something that is limited to two-year college head coaches. Hopefully you are already thinking how this applies to your situation. This sort of self-evaluation regarding serving the team must happen at the high school level and four-year college level; there are petty tyrants everywhere across all sports. This isn’t just about coach-player relationships. This is abused within a staff and also between sports—-how often do you think a football coach will cooperate with another coach on scheduling or because the other coach has a valid point? There’s a pecking order in American athletics and woe be to the coach who stands up to it.

This continues up the chain of command. You see it with university departments, colleges within a university, and governing boards. Give a person a title like dean or director, let them have a police escort into the football game, meetings get rescheduled for a person when an outside complication comes up and–that feeds the ego! How many coaches or administrators put a check on adding privileges when they arise? How many say “Don’t give me a pay raise, give it to my assistants?” When’s the last time an administrator took a pay cut rather than see 4-5 custodians laid off? Somewhere, the definition of essential and important, the easy-to-rationalize ‘I deserve this because I work hard’ grabs hold. It’s a cancer. Eventually, those people take shortcuts, demand even more privilege, and they forget to follow the ethics and rules the system has in place–they no longer apply because ‘I’m important’.

How can you stop this? By constantly evaluating your own personal actions with a cold, hard, personal appraisal. Surround yourself with people of integrity. Don’t permit ‘yes men’ or sycophants to ride your coattails to their own cushy positions.

Think about that for more than a second! Look at how hires are handled in athletics–it’s not what you know, it’s who you know. That’s a red flag. That’s not ethical. Look at the limited number of minority hirings–it’s not what you know, it’s who you know and the ‘Old Boys Club’ is awfully selective with who they let in.

As a head coach–if your assistant gets you food. Down the road when you’re leaving the office, do likewise. If the secretary printed stuff off for you in a rush, grab stuff from the mail room for him/her if you go past there to save a trip later that day. Work with other coaches, help their teams if you can–scheduling, gym sharing, fundraising, community service, whatever. Have the courage to hold those above you to proper ethical standards.

Most importantly, keep yourself squared away. Remember what you should tell yourself daily: I serve them.