The Best Coach Ever
February 5, 2013
In the fall of 2004, another of the inductees with my father to the first-ever Hall of Fame Class of Stevens Point (WI) Area Senior High School was Rick Reichardt, arguably the best male athlete the community ever produced. Rick played four sports in high school, both football and baseball at the University of Wisconsin in Madison, and on two Major League Baseball teams.
In his own acceptance speech that evening in 2004, Rick said that my dad was the best coach he ever had. Well, Dad was merely Rick’s Little League baseball coach.
That’s remarkable in and of itself. What’s more remarkable is that Dad never played organized baseball. He never developed the skills of the game. Yet Rick said Dad was his best coach ever.
Eventually, I’ve figured out Dad’s “secret of success.” Dad didn’t coach a sport. He coached people.
Our just-published winter issue of benchmarks is devoted to coaches like this and to the coaching profession. Read it here.
Winning
December 26, 2012
If you and I were playing a game of, let’s say, a game of tennis, and I don’t try to win, and you defeat me, I’ve cheapened your victory. And in cheapening your victory, I’ve been a poor sport.
Trying to win is a good thing. Trying to win is a goal of school sports. Trying in the best way, that is: within the rules, with all our effort, and with grace, regardless of the outcome.
The most satisfying victory we can have in sports is defeating our best opponent on our opponent’s best day.
The least satisfying victory is against a weak opponent, or as a result of an opponent’s mistake, or an official’s bad call, or – worst of all – by our own cheating.
You want your best opponent on their best day. You feel the best when you defeat the best, playing their best.
That’s ecstasy in sports. There is no better feeling in sports.
Don’t mistake anything I ever write to mean I don’t care about winning. I really do. And I care that it has real value.