Crisis Coaching

June 14, 2013

On the highway outside my office window last week, there was a traffic accident that involved two 2012 graduates of a mid-Michigan high school. One was killed, the other appears to be recovering from serious injuries. The young men had been on their way to work.

The next morning’s newspaper coverage – in the news section, not the sports pages – revolved around the boys’ high school football coach. He told the reporter about his former players’ character and their dreams, and what a difficult day he had spent with their families. Later, local television stations made this coach their go-to person for updates.

This plays out so often:  a family faces a crisis, and a coach is quickly on the scene. The best part of coaching – close and even lifelong relationships with players – becomes the toughest – being physically present when those players or their families need support.

It has played out so often in my experience that I can’t imagine what is lost in our schools as interscholastic coaching positions are farmed out to volunteers, or programs are eliminated altogether. I can’t imagine what is lost in the lives of students, and many of their families.

The richest part of coaching is relationships, which are often most revealed during the worst circumstances.

Family Practice

September 21, 2011

During my first winter on the job with the MHSAA I took my 4th-grade son to his first basketball practice, and I watched uncomfortably when his coach directed him to set a pick.  My son didn’t have a clue what that meant, and was embarrassed; and I felt like a complete and utter failure as a sports dad.

During the drive home, my son asked me what the coach meant when he said “set a pick and then roll to the basket.”

So when we arrived home, I recruited his mom to guard my son as he dribbled the basketball in the living room, pretending the basket was over the fireplace hearth.  I came up behind her and blocked her path as my son dribbled by, opening his path to the “basket.”

We repeated the drill, but this time his mom was wiser and scooted by me to guard my son; and when she did so, I rolled toward the “basket” and called for the ball.  My son offered a perfect pass as I moved unguarded toward the goal.

We repeated the plays with me dribbling and my son setting the pick on his mom, and then rolling toward the goal.

Pick and roll, family style.

And my son couldn’t wait for the next practice.