Criticism
October 18, 2011
The phrase “throw in the towel” comes from the sport of boxing. It recalls a manager throwing a towel into the ring to stop a bout in which his boxer is getting badly beaten.
Over the years I watched a lot of administrators of schools and school sports throw in the towel as they’ve watched their ideas and ideals get bruised and battered, and as they suffered constant and frequently unfair criticism.
Criticism is a fickle thing. It can be motivating or maddening. To some people criticism is one or the other; to other people criticism sometimes has a positive effect, sometimes the opposite.
Criticism from a well-informed source who has tried to see the matter from multiple perspectives and who delivers the opinion privately will almost always have two positive effects. First, it will influence future thought processes and decisions. Second, it will establish a closer relationship – even a good friendship – between the parties.
It is criticism based on bad information or from a biased viewpoint delivered by gossip or in group settings that is least productive to the cause and most poisonous to the community.
But even bad news badly delivered can be motivating. While sometimes it may give rise to brief thoughts of “why bother?”, it more often motivates me to work harder, to serve better, to think wider and deeper, and to give more. This reaction is a result of many life experiences, including school and college sports participation.
Those of us who played competitive athletics were subject to much criticism throughout our playing careers. Sometimes it was unfair, and we learned to rise above it. But usually the criticism was from a coach who knew his or her stuff, who thought we could do better, and who was giving us the information to become better. While some people merely survive criticism, competitive athletics can teach us how to thrive on it.
An Athlete’s Father
December 16, 2014
My father died two years ago today. His life was filled with extraordinary success as an athlete and coach and was complimented with countless accolades as an administrator. But what he was best at was being a father.
He was especially adept – instinctively, not by any book of instruction – at being an athlete’s father.
The only unsolicited advice I can ever remember him offering me was to “stay tense through the whistle” on the football field, believing a player was most at risk of injury when letting down in anticipation that the play was ending.
Dad never critiqued my play or criticized the coach’s play-calling. If there was ever a parent who had earned the privilege of hovering, it was he; but he never did.
Dad understood that most people need praise more than a push, and approval more than advice. As an athlete’s father, he was perfect.