Remember this Titan

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by Steve Sullivan

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  ♦ Change comes unexpectedly.

  There are those who believe change is essential and they are prepared to give it a kiss. What I’ve found though is that many of these people believe change arrives on the horizon riding a white horse and wearing a ten-gallon hat. You can’t miss it. Emblazoned across its chest are the letters C-H-A-N-G-E. It’s on its way. You have time to prepare. In reality, you open a door or turn a corner and there it is. “Hi,” it says. “Here we go.” And if you aren’t ready you may say no.

  ♦ Change is disruptive.

  It’s supposed to be. If it weren’t, it wouldn’t be change. Change is about mixing things up. Whether it is trouble-some is up to you. Recognize that in the disruption lies alternatives and solutions that will take you places you didn’t know existed.

  Change is so necessary, so important, so life sustaining I’ve often wondered why so many people resist it. I’ve come to the conclusion that there are three reasons. Do they look familiar?

  Apathy. Some people have been disengaged for so long their mind, their body, their spirit has atrophied. When the need for change comes they just aren’t interested.

  Ignorance. People who don’t understand what to do usually do nothing.

  Fear. Change is notorious for taking us out of our comfort zone. It interrupts our life. It forces us to be different. It mandates we operate with a new set of rules. That can be frightening. I don’t know too many people who don’t hesitate when they encounter something that scares them. But the difference between people who accomplish more and those that accomplish less lies in the recognition that fear is never rewarded. Overcoming it is.

  Skiing is a great metaphor for life. Standing at the top of a double black diamond looking down a run filled with ice-encrusted moguls, you wonder what to do. The inclination is to sit back, go slow, and survive the event. The reality is, hesitation is seldom rewarded. In skiing, the answer to fear is force. The same thing applies to change. When change occurs you need to attack. Easier said than done. For people who have had little change, change is a big deal. I won’t tell you that it shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. It will. To this day change always grabs my gut but then when I think about what change has done for me, I’m ready to do it again.

  Seventy percent of coaching is getting players properly placed where they can be most effective. I tried to avoid preconceived notions. A difficult thing. On the Titans we had a young man who was in full bloom at seventeen. At 6′5″, 240 lbs he was a moose. We thought we had the next Bubba Smith. We put him at defensive end. In a scrimmage with the Girl Scouts he got buried. What a surprise. We played another game and he got killed. I put him on the bench. A few weeks later I got a brainstorm. I decided to give him a try at tackle. The difference between a two or three point stance made all the difference. Why? It doesn’t matter. What is important is that the operative word that led to victory was change. He went on to become an All-American and one of the most recruited guys in the country.

  In the course of getting to this point, my attitudes about things have undergone a number of changes. To this day I find myself evolving in all aspects of my life. Maybe Darwin had it correct. The survival of the species is predicated on its ability to adapt. Surprisingly I’ve become more flexible with age.

  In part, my evolution started after reading a story by Arthur Conan Doyle. The title was A Study in Scarlet.

  The main character, as you probably know, is Sherlock Holmes.

  Let me paraphrase what happened. Dr. Watson, Sherlock Holmes’s assistant, was interested in why Sherlock had such a profound knowledge in matters related to crime but when it came to knowing things unrelated to crime, he was in the dark—a first-class dummy. Watson was confused. One day Holmes explained it to him. “I see my brain as an attic. I can store whatever I want. If I store too many things, when I go to look for something that is important, it will be more difficult to find.”

  It made sense. At that point in my coaching career maybe I had too much in my attic. I’d read all the books. I had the facts. At least I thought I did. At the time I didn’t know that a lot of experts have a self-serving interest in their sermon. Maybe the real good stuff was not so good after all. For me, victories were becoming as hard to grasp as a feather on a windy day. So I examined the hypothesis. Were there things in my cerebral storage shed that were obstacles to progress? I concluded yes.

  FAST FORWARD

  The next season, 1967, was greeted with hope and also a little skepticism. I was still recovering from the emotional shock of a losing season but my success in coaching track had helped rebuild my ego.

  I didn’t have the hot shots from the previous year. This group was pretty much a team of untested unknowns. There was something about them though that made me feel good. My quarterback had graduated and my earplugs had been retired. The new guy that was going to spearhead the offense was a plump, unassuming sophomore named John O’Connor. He was a perfect example of the book and cover concept. Looking at him you suspected he was the most valuable player at Pizza Hut. John O’Connor wasn’t a cover boy but as an athletic talent he was terrific. And he could think. And he could throw. And he could kick. And he was quiet. Thank God he was quiet.

  I started, with the help of my coaches, to evaluate my players. It didn’t take long to recognize that not only did I have a guy who could put the football down field but Bob Stumpf could catch it.

  It was time to change. Opportunity was knocking. I opened the door and attacked. The air was filled with pigskin. The turnaround had begun. Our fans returned to the stands. On Friday night no one was watching ice dancing. The gridiron was back in vogue. A year later we won the Championship. Mistakenly, I got Coach of the Year.

  The good times were punctuated on August 27, 1968, when my daughter Deidre was born. Not only was she a great kid but she also turned out to be a great athlete.

  In those two years I redefined who I was—as coach, as a leader, as a human being. I learned that commitment transcended desire. Commitment had to be directed. Being committed in the wrong areas would do nothing. Commitment was not a salve or a tattoo. Commitment did not vanish with circumstance. Commitment was a force that resided within. Commitment dictated results. Commitment was at the core of excellence.

  I also learned that loyalty sprouted from integrity and integrity is at the heart of a coach/player relationship. I learned so many things and I would need them all.

  NAVIGATING THE MAZE

  If you’re like me, you’ve spent some time thinking about who you are and why you’re here. I’ll bet you even wonder where you’re going. I still do. And even though I’ve given my journey considerable thought, I continue to struggle with what it all means. Figuring this stuff out can make your head hurt.

  Somewhere back when, I was investigating the meaning of Yoast. I knew I wanted to achieve something but wasn’t sure what that meant. Big house, fast car, fifty dollar bills. I’d been persuaded that if I didn’t have a pinky ring, I was a nobody. One day I borrowed a friend’s. I didn’t feel any better.

  Shortly thereafter I was reading a book about Albert Schweitzer. The story chronicled the journey of a man who abandoned the “good life” for the good of others. There was this quote:

  I do not know what your destiny will be but I do know this. The only ones among you who will be truly happy are those that have sought and found how to serve.

  Something inside me came alive. Now all I had to do was figure out where to begin. As I gave it some thought I was cascaded with options. I wanted to serve but didn’t know how. I didn’t know who. I didn’t know where. What seemed so simple became complex. I turned to a friend for help.

  She suggested a book of philosophy. Actually it was a book of philosophers. They were all there: Spinoza, Socrates, Bacon, Voltaire. The only one missing was Mr. Rogers. I was teleported to different worlds. Plato said justice involves a balance between give and take. Machiavelli told me to take all that I could get. Aristotle sug
gested I let the smart guys call the plays. My brain burned as I tried to interpret how it applied it to me.

  Somewhere in the fog I was presented with the story of the Gordian knot. According to Greek legend a peasant named Gordius arrived in the square of Phrygia in an ox cart. A few years earlier an oracle had foretold that the future King would come to town riding in a wagon. Seeing Gordius, the populace gave him the throne. In gratitude, Gordius dedicated the wagon to Zeus and tied it up using a very intricate knot—the Gordian knot. It was so complex no one could untie it. Many tried. Theories abounded: pull it, push it, spank it, kick it. Some used oil and others tried spit. Untying the knot resisted all. Another oracle predicted whomever solved the puzzle would become the Lord of Asia.

  Failure ensued until the year 333 B.C. when Alexander the Great came upon it. He took a look. He wanted clarification. He asked a question. Did Gordius say the knot had to be untied or undone? His interpretation determined his course of action. He pulled out his sword and the knot was freed. A light went on. Thanks to a sword-and-sandals guy I figured out, in life, there were options.

  Over the years I’ve been asked to explain my coaching philosophy. I used to think why would anyone care what I thought. I’m a country boy. Philosophy is for others. If you want philosophy go to Greece. Then one day, someone pointed out to me that experience is like a sponge. If you go down enough paths a bucket of stuff gets absorbed. If you don’t use the lessons it’s trash but if you do, it’s philosophy. If that’s the criterion then maybe I do have a philosophy.

  A number of years ago I was watching an interview with one of the most successful writers of all time. He had written a book that had helped millions of people examine their life and find a better way. He was a bona-fide All-American “Thinkmeister.”

  The interviewer asked him why we were here. My ears came alert. I always wondered why they planted me in Alabama. I got goose bumps thinking about what he would say. I myself had pondered that question on more than one occasion. The cotton field gave me Mary. The student center delivered Betty. But why was I here? I sat up in my seat. I wanted the skinny.

  He hesitated, looked up at the heavens, took a deep breath and proclaimed, “We are here to learn.” The interviewer collapsed with joy, that such profundity had been uttered on his show. I took it in and initially thought he was right on the mark. About ten seconds later I started to question the statement. Learning is great because without learning there is no knowledge. But if all we are doing is improving our own situation then isn’t that a self-centered exercise? Is that why we are here? Is life about me? I don’t think so.

  He was right on when he said learning was important but he was one rung short on the ladder to fulfillment. We learn so that we can make a contribution. When a person contributes, others benefit.

  A while later, I was told a story about that author. He was still delivering thoughts on how to get through life but his own life was in shambles. I wasn’t surprised.

  Recently I was asked by an interviewer to discuss my philosophy. Sometimes I use my words but every now and then I go back to that cotton field and channel what Mary said. She wanted to contribute and her philosophy is never out of reach. I delivered my sermon.

  I looked in the interviewer’s eyes. There was no reaction. I knew why. Giving a pearl to a pig was a waste of a pearl. I didn’t take it personally. I’d been rejected before. I thought about explaining why those ideals were important. But I realized it would be futile. I knew he didn’t care. I knew he would not embrace something he did not value. For him, they were just words spewing from an old man.

  In the course of living my life I have learned the hard way that there are lots of people that don’t care. Early on I spent too much time trying to get them in the groove. At some point I realized my effort could be better spent elsewhere.

  Caring and character are inextricably linked and it is character that provides the foundation on which a country, a family or a team can be built. Some people are born with character, but more often than not, character is developed by overcoming adversity. And that happens with behaviors that I call Performance Drivers. They look like words: Integrity, Commitment, Determination, Courage, and Enthusiasm. In reality, they are the building blocks of excellence.

  There was a time in my life when I was swayed by appearance. Way back when, someone once asked me what I looked for in a quarterback. My reply, “square jaw, thick hair, good teeth.” I hadn’t learned yet that character was invisible.

  Tracye Funn was blessed with character. She was a high jumper and hurdler on the T.C. Williams track team and I was her coach. Some people need encouragement to raise the performance bar but Tracye wasn’t one of them. She was always challenging herself. “Get it up coach,” she’d shout. Initially, the result was always the same. She didn’t clear the bar and more often than not it resulted in a bump or bruise. Her legs were covered with scrapes. She understood they were the price of success.

  Years later she took that same attitude into the business world. Raising the hurdle might be painful but it was the only way to succeed. She did. She became the first black president of the Prince Georges County Chamber of Commerce. I was the speaker at her inauguration. At the end I asked her to lift up her dress and show the scars on her legs. She respectfully declined citing that hurdle was a little too low.

  Character is important and it blossoms when easy turns hard. If you want your team to have character make it difficult on them. If you want your kids to have character ensure the “rite of passage” is tougher than a day at Disney World. Everywhere you look the people that we respect, we admire, we honor . . . have character.

  I was sitting with a friend shortly after a number of Wall Street scandals erupted. The subject of character came up. We discussed it in detail. We agreed that character was at the heart of the problem. If you looked at the track records of the most egregious you would see that they had lived a pretty cushy life. Had they experienced how tough it was to earn a shiny dollar they might have given it more respect. Had they spent some time in a cotton field with Mary, we’d all be better off.

  I can’t remember anyone I’ve known that had it tough and wasn’t grateful for the experience. They overcame hardship and were proud of it. It’s character that turns bad into better.

  If you’re looking to build a dynasty of excellence start with people who have a few nooks and crannies. It’s not all that hard to spot. When someone walks through your door and tells you they got kicked in the head, punched in the face, and pistol-whipped while trying to get milk money for mom, smile, because you may have just discovered a Titan.

  I can tell you, in the course of getting to where you want to go, there are going to be some potholes en route. As a matter of fact, something dark lies just beyond the horizon and it’s waiting for you. The good news is character is waiting for it. When sweet times turn sour and happy turns sad, when the ill wind blows with hurricane force, if you’ve surrounded yourself with character you’re going to make it.

  I’ve had teams that were big and fast and lost. I’ve had teams that were small and slow and won. What made the difference? I can tell you it was intangible.

  Life has a way of telling you when you are on the road to nowhere. Look for signs. Starting out can be pretty scary. If you are smart enough, one morning you wake up and scream. You just realized your mom and dad are going to sell your bed. When that happens you’d better be able to answer the call. Figuring out the deal can be the difference between having a meal or becoming one. It has always been a tough world and it is going to get tougher. The good news is that if you have prepared yourself properly your success is guaranteed. That’s right. The people at the top didn’t get there by accident. They knew what to do and they did it. There wasn’t much wishing and hoping.

  I’ve always believed that the foundation to accomplishment started with knowledge. I wanted players that were smart. There was a time when I thought information was the key. It was all about facts, fac
ts, and more facts. Later on I learned that information without experience is like a wheel without spokes, a sail without wind, a person without direction, a soul without values.

  Experience is a great teacher. I’ve found nothing better than experience to teach the lessons I wanted learned.

  Someone once told me a story about a very successful old man. He was getting an award for achievement. A young man approached him and asked how he had accomplished so much. He replied two words: good decisions. The young man asked how do you make good decisions? The man answered one word: experience. The young man inquired as to how to get experience. The old man answered. Two words: bad decisions.

  I’ve made a lot of bad decisions but I’ve learned from every one of them. I’ve seldom been embarrassed twice. I guess I must have understood if I didn’t fix what was broken someone was going to sell my bed. Too many people get stuck in a rut. And if you stay in one long enough it can become a grave. Whether you are coaching a team, raising a family, or holding down an emperorship, stay nimble. Things will never stop changing, and if you don’t flow with the current you can get obsolete fast. The only way to find out if the snake oil works is to give it a try.

  A TITANIC EVENT

  Dreams come in stages. If you’ve done things right, your confidence grows and your aspirations too. In the world of large dreams though, mine were pretty small. I never thought about being President, Allied Commander, or CEO. I did once dream about eight seconds on a bull. No way.

  At one point in my life, my dream was to fill my belly. Thirty years later it was to fill a stadium.

  The rumors had been circulating for a while. Hammond High was going down. And George Washington was too. A few years earlier a superschool had been built and its time had come. It just made economic sense. If the plan went according to Hoyle, T.C. Williams would have more kids than Peru. That was an opportunity and a problem—a problem because at that moment in time, race relations had taken a dramatic turn south. All over America the flames of racial hatred burned. And they had made their way to 3330 King Street. In theory, the objective was noble but in reality when you compress that many kids into that small an area you’re going to have problems. Combining a predominantly black high school, GW, with its predominantly white arch-rival didn’t help. And when trouble arrived it came with a vengeance.

 

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