You are not a failure until you start blaming others for your mistakes. – Coach John Wooden
At a regional basketball tournament not long ago, I observed a team looking to advance who lost a deciding game that dropped them into a consolation bracket. Being new to tournament play, I only recently learned about the “consolation brackets”. Let’s face it, not every team heads to a smaller tournament saying “We’re so psyched to battle in the consolation bracket!” To add insult to injury, the consolation game this team was set to play was over 3 hours later that day. That’s a nice long window to lick your wounds and know you have no chance at winning the tournament as you battle for 3rd or 4th place.
I was just a parent with a few hours to kill between games as well. I happened to be charging my phone in the lobby of a typical school gym during a long day of tournament games. Suddenly, an impromptu team meeting had materialized around me before I had the chance to move. I was now a fly on the wall for a very honest moment with a coach, his team and their parents. It was clear by the silence and lobby full of long faces, they had just lost.
Going back a few hours earlier, I happened to watch this team of 12 year olds win their first game at the start of the tournament. I found the coach to be vocal, animated and firm, but positive in his messages from the bench. In the lobby though, he was quiet and low. He didn’t yell, lecture or pop a blood vessel discussing the disappointment of their loss. Instead, he opened his post-game speech with an apology.
Apparently during the second deciding game, a technical was assessed because the coach lost his cool on the sideline and used bad language. He kept saying “That’s on me. That’s on me.” He expressed to the players and parents how much he regretted allowing his frustration with a ref’s call and the course of the game to trigger a quiet, angry comment that resulted in a technical foul.
This coach led his speech with how he failed the team, not how they had just underperformed, underscored and underdefended their opponents for 40 minutes. He owned it. He took personal accountability for the technical foul and lack of leadership during the game. The loss was not just a result of his single tech for improper language, but he addressed his team as if it was.
He didn’t blame the refs or say the other team was lucky to get those calls. The coach talked about commitment to the team and to each other. He was so committed to the team he was missing his own son’s championship game to be at that very tournament. He took accountability for his performance and was requesting his players do that for themselves as well. He went on to calmly and constructively talk about how they could have performed differently with a positive focus for how to win their final game later that day.
My 10 year old player also happened to be in the lobby with me to witness this other team’s meeting. He watched them play earlier that day too and he was able to hear the coach’s speech. I was happy he saw first-hand how this coach handled disappointment and his role in a very measured way. I saw the coach’s approach with his team as a timely, teachable moment for my player that illustrated a few important lessons including accountability, taking responsibility, composure and commitment.
I don’t know if that team went on to win their next game, but the character and respect demonstrated by the coach in the gym lobby was more memorable to me and my player than anything we saw on the court that day.
Additional resources and perspectives to explore:
Soccer Players: Take Responsibility by Dan Abrahams
The Accountability Problem in Youth Sports by John O’Sullivan
Strategies for Athlete Accountability in Sport by Liz Hanson
Way of Champions Podcast Hosted by John O’Sullivan: Episode #61 Dan Coyle, NYT Bestselling Author of The Talent Code and The Culture Code, on The Four Most Powerful Words a Leader Can Say, and Other Secrets of Highly Successful Teams (Podcast: May 13, 2018)
– Danielle Mintz, Founder of Player EQ