Remember this Titan (13 page)

In 1989 Tracy Fells was convicted of selling narcotics. It couldn’t have come at a
worse time. The government was looking to send a message. Ten years was normal. Tracy
got twenty. He would be the first to tell you he has no one to blame but himself.
He knew what was right but chose to ignore it.

When you expand your focus you will be coaching more off the field than on it and
for me that just seems right. A winning game pales in comparison to a winning life.

Trust is the glue that binds husband to wife, father to daughter, teacher to student,
leader to follower. If you are going to succeed as a coach you need to establish trust.
Young men and women are putting their time, effort, health,
and success in your hands. They would like to know that you are a trustworthy custodian.

Do yourself a favor and never ask for trust. Trust is not about words. Trust is about
deeds. When you exhibit consistent credible behavior over time, you will be trusted.
Don’t ask for trust . . . earn it.

Fear has been around for a long time. Coaches have been addressing it forever. The
great writing coach Shakespeare said that “our doubts are traitors that make us lose
the good we often may gain by fearing to attempt.” How about this: “Fears are thieves
that steal confidence and diminish potential.” When people are afraid, they don’t
want to attempt. When someone doesn’t attempt, nothing happens. As a coach you have
to make it happen and if you have a bunch of fearful people everything slows down.

In 1966 there was a terrific three-sport athlete from a competitive school. He pitched,
quarterbacked, and shot hoops. At six feet six inches he was a dominant physical force
and anytime you played against him you were in trouble. That was until his father
showed up. I’d heard the stories and wondered how he could be dominated by his dad.
When his seven-foot tormentor arrived, I had my answer.

There was an instant change. Strikes became balls and touchdowns became fumbles. The
reason was obvious. He was terrified with what his dad would do to him if he didn’t
shine. That fear inhibited his performance. He got away
from Dad and went on to have a great college career and became a star defensive end
with the Dallas cowboys.

He was always great but when impacted by fear he was less.

Removing fear starts by identifying fear. You’ll find it in the eyes. You’ll hear
it in the voice. You’ll see it in the legs. It’s born in the mind but lives in the
heart. Fear has been known to incapacitate the best. Nothing of consequence has been
built on fear.

People are afraid of rejection, failure, embarrassment, change, injury, and a host
of other things. Someone may not tell you they are afraid but there will be signs.
Look for them. Fear shows up in what people say and what people do. Look for fear
in the back of the line. You’ll find it with the light on. Once you think you know
where the fear resides do something to remove it. People don’t like to be afraid.
They don’t like the feeling of being afraid. Whoever removes fear from someone’s life
becomes a pal.

Your responsibility is to create a sanctuary of safety. That doesn’t mean it will
be pain free but it will be injury free—physically and emotionally. Trust will help.
If people believe that they are going to be okay and then are, you just scored. Let
people extend themselves. Let them eat the forbidden fruit. When they have, and nothing
bad transpires, you’ll probably see a smile.

Overcoming fear is an energizing agent and when someone realizes that fear was just
a four letter word, “dare not” will be replaced by “dare a lot” and then everything
goes north.

I’ve found in my coaching and teaching career that most people live in the present.
They think about the future but for them the future is a fuzzy notion that has little
influence on their lives. When someone screws up and you don’t do anything about it
you send the message that the sheriff doesn’t care. To an individual who is prone
to temptation you have just given them the key to the chicken coop. And as we all
know it’s only a matter of time until someone sees the feathers in their mouth. The
last few years have shown what happens when people aren’t held accountable. I suspect
every executive that has gone to jail had been given a pass somewhere along the line.
Had they been administered a little justice at the first sign of trouble, their lives
wouldn’t be in shambles.

What you might find encouraging is when justice needs to be dispensed it is often
the result of self-adjudication. You’ll find, more often than not, if you have led
people fairly, they will police their own actions. I think it has something to do
with human beings having . . . a conscience.

Do you remember the mini-series
Lonesome Dove
? This masterpiece showcased life, death, love, commitment, loyalty, challenge, fairness,
and trust.
Lonesome Dove
, in my opinion, the finest movie ever made, was about leadership.

Some people think of it as a cowboy movie. I saw it as two coaches taming the west.
While I could probably write a book on the intended meaning of each night’s episode,
at this juncture I’m only interested in the events surrounding the segment on horse
rustling. Excuse me, make that accountability.

Augustus McCrae and Woodrow Call had finally tracked down the bad guys who had been
robbing, killing, and burning sodbusters. When they came across the group, much to
their surprise, they found their good friend, Jake Spoon, present.

They’d spent a decade as Texas Rangers with Spoon, and their feelings ran deep. Unfortunately
for him, their commitment to justice ran even deeper. He pleaded his case by stating
he had linked up with the scoundrels as a means of getting through dangerous territory.
He explained he had not been a perpetrator in any of the acts, and proclaimed his
innocence.

While both of them believed Spoon told the truth, the fact still remained, he crossed
the line. As Spoon sat with neck in noose, you could feel him processing that input.
Suddenly, he kicked his horse. When I saw it my first reaction was that Spoon initiated
the action to spare his friends. He didn’t want them to live with the guilt that they
had killed their friend. I no longer hold that opinion.

There would have been no sleepless nights. McCrae and Call loved Spoon but that didn’t
matter. Jake Spoon had crossed the line and it was time for him to pay. He knew it
and so he hung himself.

As you go through life you will encounter people that
cannot see the line or choose to ignore it. When it happens you need to do something.

My Roswell football team had made it to the championship. I was not all that optimistic
because my star running back had violated some rules and I decided to put him on the
bench. Halfway through the game a couple players asked me to let him in. I said no.
We went on to win. Afterward, those same two players thanked me for holding firm.
I guess it taught them something. The player I punished never thanked me but I got
the feeling he understood why I took the action. I don’t know how he turned out but
if he paid attention to the message I sent, he turned out better than if I’d let him
run.

I’ve found people may not want to be held accountable but they expect to be held accountable.
Don’t give them a pass. When people aren’t held accountable more often than not they
get worse.

There are lots of ways to facilitate the process. I’ve given you a few. In finding
others you are only limited by your imagination and a willingness to implement your
plan. What is important is that what you do should be measured against one criterion—accomplishment.

Accomplishment is a word with major ramifications. Accomplishment is about being better
tomorrow than you are today. Accomplishment involves feeling good about what you did.
Accomplishment leaves no doubt that you did your best.

There are many who believe that accomplishment is a point on a performance continuum.
For me it has always been a relative term. Accomplishment has nothing to do
with where I am. Its significance lies in the distance I’ve traveled from where I
began. If I began great and didn’t become greater, great means nothing. There is no
victory in maintaining the status quo. Accomplishment has meaning only when it is
measured against what could have been, what should have been.

That concept is lost on some. We are living in an age where hype is the coin of the
realm. Being provocative makes you a star. When I was growing up, fame and fortune
came about as a result of being better than the best. Today, an octopus tattooed on
your face can get you front row seats. The nonsense has gotten pretty extreme, but
with all things it is only a matter of time before the pendulum swings back.

I never had a son. I always wanted one. Now don’t get me wrong. I adore women. I’ve
spent my life around them and I’m better because of it. Dads and daughters have a
special bond but so do dads and sons. More than once I wondered what my son would
be like. Had I been able to make one (it takes a real man to make five girls) what
would he have been?

I wouldn’t have cared how he looked. Short or tall, green hair and pink eyes would
have been just fine. Elephant ears and a cauliflower nose, so what. His blood would
have been mine. That physical stuff doesn’t matter. It’s what’s on the inside that
counts.

My son would have had character and a twinkle in his eye. He would have treated people
nicely. And done what was right. My boy would have tackled bias and blocked injustice.
My guy would have made a point of speaking his mind. I know he would have wanted to
leave the place better than he found it. No, I never had a son but I had Gerry Bertier.

Gerry came into my life when he was in the eighth grade. His father had just died
and like anyone who experiences a significant loss, I think he was looking to fill
that void. We bonded immediately. I was a kind of surrogate father. Early on I knew
there was something special about him. He had a determination and competitiveness
that exceeded anything I had seen in someone so young. Not too many thirteen year
olds understand realizing your potential tracks back to the present. For most youngsters,
here and now is all that counts. For them, success in the future comes on a wing and
a prayer. Gerry knew differently. He understood the future began today.

Many young men I’ve coached are what I call one-linkers. They cannot see beyond the
first link in the chain. To a one-linker expending effort means you’re tired. Period.
That’s it. All over. Go home.

To a multi-linker, effort means you’re tired.

Tired indicates you did something. Something makes you better. Better wins. Winning
gets recognition. Recognition gets a scholarship. Scholarship dictates an education.
Education is a future. Future is a good job, a family, and a plasma TV. To a multi-linker
tired is not the end of the process, it is the beginning. I can still hear Bertier
as if it was yesterday. “Hey coach, I think I’ll do a few more laps.”

The best athletes and most productive people I have coached never lost sight of the
links in the chain. Gerry always seemed to be able to see the connections that others
couldn’t. And when the links became blurred Gerry had me. That’s what coaches are
supposed to do—bring clarity to confusion. With Bertier it was easy. Anytime he got
off track
the solution never required more than a minor adjustment. He was so focused and so
dedicated you just had to think the thought and he was on it. He took that attitude
to the playing field. He had all the physical equipment needed to play but it was
his “don’t quit” mindset that made him a star.

I’ve seen a lot of great plays over the years but one play stands out above all others.
We were playing our rival Jefferson. It was tough game and victory was up in the air.
Jefferson had a third and long and that was the kind of situation where my linebacking
maniac got even crazier. He called his own number for a blitz. At full speed he went
through the line like a missile through pudding. He saw the bull’s eye and readied
to launch the QB into another county. There is one thing about being a legend that
can be detrimental. People know your moves. Bertier had a reputation for suicidal
aggressiveness. The other coach knew what he would do. A swing pass was called. A
moment before Gerry hit his target the quarterback unloaded the pigskin to the fastest
man on the field. Bertier hit the quarterback and rearranged his numbers. When he
realized the ball was gone he jumped to his feet and ran the halfback down. He caught
him at the five-yard line. I guess that meant that guy was the second fastest player
on the field. They didn’t score and we won the game.

I’ve contemplated that effort a thousand times. I cannot think of Gerry without picturing
that play. It is indelibly etched in my mind. Not because Gerry made the tackle. Not
because we won the game. Not because Herman patted me on the back. I remember that
play because that play represents the spirit of the man. Of all the young men and
women
that called me coach, Gerry Bertier possessed a spirit like no other.

As I’ve gotten older and my past is relived in memories, spirit is always there. I’ve
thought a great deal about spirit. There was a time when spirit came up and I looked
to the heavens. I didn’t realize that spirit is born on this earth and it is spirit
that adds dimension to your life and the life of others. At times I didn’t understand
the significance of the word. I believed spirit was something you could teach. I no
longer do.

Spirit comes in the genes. There are many things that can be learned but spirit is
not one of them. From the very beginning, if you have been blessed with spirit you
are lucky, because spirit is the pilot light of character. It is spirit that embraces
adversity. It is spirit that confronts injustice. It is spirit that overcomes pain.
It is spirit that allows a suffering child to smile and a dying soldier to forgive.
Spirit said “give me liberty or give me death.” Spirit has been at the essence of
achievement since achievement began. It was spirit that took Gerry Bertier from the
darkest dark back to the light.