Win Forever

by Pete Carroll

  As a team we so often talk about being like a family, and with the sacrifices coaches and players make, we forgo important times with our own families. An example that was close to home for me was with my youngest son, Nate. Because we played on Saturdays, our Friday nights were spent at a team hotel, either on the road or in downtown Los Angeles. On Fridays we had an unbreakable ritual: from the practice field to Heritage Hall for a pep rally with the band, to the bus that was going to take us to the hotel where we’d stay until taking the field the next day. Those nights were always filled with meetings and preparations and it was vitally important that we kept the same routine. My family understood the day-to-day obligations of coaching a football team, and often had to do things without me. If I have any regrets, they are not being able to attend many of my children’s school functions or sporting events.

  One Friday night, during my youngest son Nate’s senior football season, I decided that I had to find a way to attend his play-off game. Breaking a long-standing tradition, I switched the format of our normal Friday-night meeting so that I could watch Nate play quarterback for the first time, as he took over for the injured starter. As the team listened to the change in schedule they automatically expected to jump on our team bus and come along. Were it not for NCAA regulations, I might have considered it. After all, it wasn’t unusual for us to pull a surprise field trip to go bowling or attend a professional beach volleyball tournament. I can’t say what a thrill it was for me to see Nate’s team win their game, and as luck would have it, another one the following week during our bye.

  When I arrived at USC, I had a newly developed philosophy for how to build a program that I hoped would Win Forever. It was drawn from my experiences and based on things I had learned in my previous twenty-two years as a coach. But I never thought I would learn as much as I did during my time at USC, on and off the field. There was more love and heartfelt exchanges than I ever could have imagined. From celebrating victories to weathering hardships, the warmth and the love that were shared will never be forgotten.

  PART FOUR

  WIN FOREVER BEYOND THE FIELD

  21

  NOT JUST FOOTBALL

  You might think that football is merely a game and the lessons that apply to playing this game might not have much to do with the “real” world. What does a touchdown have to do with life off the football field? My answer: a lot. Maybe not the touchdown itself, but what it takes to make a touchdown—all the hard work, all the practice, and the dedication to perform at your best—is as valuable off the field as on.

  I am very lucky that I have a job I love doing and am so passionate about, but I also realize that I am still part of a larger world. How I interact with that world—with my family and my community—is very important to me. I want to be someone who competes just as hard to be a best friend, loving husband, caring parent, and active community member as I do to be an excellent football coach.

  About seven years ago, in 2003, I was driving into work along the side streets of south Los Angeles and I heard on the radio that another young kid had been slain in gang-related violence, bringing the total to eleven homicides for the week. I work with young men, some of whom easily could have fallen into the cycle of gangs, were it not for their talent, or, more important, support from their families, teachers, and coaches. So news of that kind struck close to home for me. That day, for whatever reason, it hit me especially hard, and I decided to call my good friend Lou Tice.

  Lou is the founder of the Pacific Institute, a self-empowering educational program. He and I had been talking for a while about finding a way to make a major impact in the community. The timing then felt as right to him as it did to me. We started mapping out an organization that would eventually be known as A Better LA.

  Our mission would be to save the lives of young children and reduce gang-related violence in Los Angeles. We would do it through community building, youth empowerment, and professionally trained prevention and intervention workers.

  I have been overwhelmed by the dedicated work of these incredible heroes who have affected me with their life stories. My closest friend from the neighborhood, Bo Taylor, was a strong, humble, and caring father and leader on the streets of LA. Bo taught me about the work that needed to be done and introduced me to people across the city in hopes of reaching communities in need. The unsung heroes are intervention and community outreach workers, and they live deep in my heart for their courage, leadership, and willingness to protect the communities they love. Bo passed away in 2008 but through his inspiration, the communities have accomplished extraordinary feats, and with continued support from the mayor, law enforcement, and local neighborhoods, the work continues. Strong leadership continues to prevail from within the community thanks to the dedicated work of outreach workers like Aquil Basheer, Cornell Ward, Gary Robinson, Reynaldo Reaser, and so many others. A model for sustainable change has been created and we are reaching out to more neighborhoods to increase the impact.

  Seven years since our inception, gang violence is still an issue, but the city of Los Angeles has seen an unprecedented decline in homicides and aggravated assaults, particularly in the areas where A Better LA has concentrated its efforts. The cooperation of local communities, government, law enforcement, and the private sector has been exceptional. And while I love coaching football and watching my team win, I have to admit that the work of A Better LA and the influence it has had on these communities is, in the long run, more important. It has also been very gratifying to witness my daughter, Jaime, help carry out the vision of A Better LA with peace rallies, fund-raising efforts, and annual community events. I am proud not only of the work she does, but of how much of her heart and soul she puts into it.

  The power of affirmations is incredibly strong. Because I have always believed that what you expect is usually what you get, what you focus on is what you draw to yourself. We have the power to create our own reality and through a vision of hope, that concept is constantly at work for all of us. Our plan at A Better LA is to inspire that in one person at a time. Living and working in the greater Los Angeles area, as well as representing USC in general, has provided me countless opportunities to reach out to organizations, schools, and businesses. I am often asked to speak about the success of our football team and how our philosophy might apply to an individual or group.

  One such person is Andy Bark, who has become a good friend. I was introduced to Andy about the time I accepted the job at USC. Back in the late 1980s, he had founded a company called Student Sports, a leading digital media company revolving around high school athletics, and had operated camps and clinics with corporate giants such as Nike and EA Sports. Andy had his finger on the pulse of thousands of high school athletes, but more important, he had a great understanding of the landscape of college football—which, after all, was what every high school football player had his eyes on. A ball boy for USC and UCLA during the John McKay and Dick Vermeil eras and a wide receiver at Cal in the early 1980s, Andy clearly understood the development necessary for an athlete to succeed in college.

  After talking about the history at USC and college football in general, I asked Andy if he would be interested in hearing my philosophy, because I thought it might be helpful to him and his company. After more than two hours of talking, I learned that Andy had sold his company in 2001 and had been unhappily watching it slow down in his absence. I could relate to his frustration, and we spent quite a while talking about the situation.

  A week later, Andy called me with exciting news. He had decided to not only buy his company back but also reorganize its structure and start an athletic training business. Based on our conversations, he also decided to formulate a philosophy based on Win Forever principles and to create a vision for the new era of Student Sports.

  By creating his own version of the Win Forever philosophy, Andy didn’t just revitalize his organization; in 2008 he sold it to ESPN, which renamed the company ESPN RISE. Furthermore, his other training compan
y, SPARQ, was bought by Nike in 2009.

  Another lesson depicting how broadly the ideas that have been developed for coaching football could be applied elsewhere came when I was invited to speak to senior U.S. military leaders. The occasion was the Small Unit Excellence Conference, a first-of-its-kind seminar in Alexandria, Virginia, in April 2009, and I was privileged to join a diverse group of participants ranging from orchestra conductors to psychologists. The participants were looking at ways to apply the insights of our professional expertise to performance in the military. Our goal was to help set a foundation for revolutionary shifts in the actions and attitudes of the country’s small-unit armed forces, such as the Navy SEALs, the Green Berets, and the Army Rangers.

  The three-day event was cosponsored by the U.S. Department of Homeland Security and attracted some of the military’s highest-ranking officers. They were seeking to answer a single fundamental question: How can the U.S. military improve and maintain consistent success?

  Four-star general James Mattis, who commands the U.S. Joint Forces Command, was the keynote speaker and opened the conference. He set the tone for the days to follow by challenging the group to forgo conventional wisdom and think outside the box. There was a lot of energy in the room, and I had the feeling that this was a chance to contribute in a meaningful way to the performance of our servicemen and servicewomen. I was proud to be a part of something that stirred my sense of patriotism. It was the first time in my life I had felt this close to that calling, and I wanted to come through and help if I could.

  I was assigned to a twenty-two-person breakout group, and we spent twelve hours each day going through a variety of workshops. My fellow participants were incredibly impressive, and I was so enthralled with what each speaker had to say that the time flew by. The group included top-ranking military officers and some of America’s brightest academics, and I not only learned different philosophies and outlooks from them but almost had to chuckle at the thought that my experience as a football coach somehow qualified me to be a part of something like this. Yet at the same time I felt very comfortable as part of that team, and I realized once again that when it comes to leadership and performance, the basic principles are almost universal.

  As the conference continued, I saw that what we had done at USC and what we were working to accomplish in the inner city of Los Angeles had really broad applications to teams of all kinds. In both football and our nonprofit work, as in the military, the objective is similar: Each team member must maximize his or her potential to perform effectively, with the success of the team depending not only on a single star performance but on everyone working together at their highest possible level. The major difference, of course, is that if we throw four interceptions and lose a game, life goes on. In the military, in places such as Iraq and Afghanistan, if someone doesn’t do his or her job, lives are lost.

  In our breakout groups we were asked to make recommendations to the conference for enhancing the performance of small-unit forces. My group asked me to kick off our segment by presenting the Win Forever approach as an overall vision for directing all small-unit activities throughout the armed forces.

  From the beginning of the conference, it was evident that no single overriding philosophy yet existed, nor was there a common language to connect the individual units across the armed forces. Common themes, consistent language, and an all-encompassing vision could make it possible not only to elevate performance but also to foster a shared camaraderie among the military’s many different groups. Win Forever, with its clear philosophy and terminology, we realized, could be a very effective vehicle for bringing the military groups together.

  I have to say that I was a little nervous about addressing an audience of generals and admirals, but the presentation was extremely important to me.

  It started in much the same way that our spring football meetings do, with my asking the entire audience to stand up and change seats. I was used to pulling this trick with twenty-year-olds in shorts and T-shirts, so it was fun to see well-established professionals stand up, gather their papers, and unplug their laptops to move from one row to another. Not everyone appreciated it, but I had a point to make, and getting it across successfully started with getting the audience members out of their comfort zone.

  I then asked the crowd how many of them had a philosophy. As you might assume, many of them raised their hands. Then I asked of those people who had just raised their hands, “How many of you could stand up right now and share your philosophy with us in twenty-five words or less?” As always, the hands dropped quickly around the room—including one hand I would have expected to remain in the air, the one belonging to conference director and decorated major general Dr. Robert Scales.

  In addition to having commanded combat units in the Vietnam and Korean wars and earning the Silver Star, among many other honors, Major General Scales is widely regarded as one of our foremost experts on military training and education. He also helped design the army’s training doctrine and has authored several books. Furthermore, Major General Scales’s last posting was as commandant of the U.S. Army War College. You will now recognize him as an expert analyst who regularly appears on television.

  When his hand dropped, I remember seeing a few nervous faces around him, clearly wondering how someone with his rank and prestige might react to getting singled out. But he didn’t show a hint of embarrassment or discomfort. He just had this thoughtful, surprised smile on his face as he said, “You got me, Coach!” You could see that his mind was racing with the implications of the exercise.

  Major General Scales is living proof that successful leaders can achieve extraordinary things without necessarily ever having asked themselves what exactly their philosophy is. He is one of many such high performers whom I have met over the years. Once the question was put in front of him, he recognized that by having a philosophy he could articulate, he could be even more effective. As a leader in a very unique field, he’ll do that in his way and in a manner that is appropriate for his needs and goals. I am grateful to him for allowing me to participate in the conference and for helping me understand just how universal the basic principles of leadership, competition, and self-knowledge really are.

  22

  YOU CAN WIN FOREVER

  All the things I have talked about in this book ultimately are just different expressions of the simple, basic life goal of being able to know yourself and define your philosophy in a way that is true to who you are. That’s it. There are probably as many different ways to say that as there are people, but however it makes sense to you, I believe that is what it all comes down to. It is what we work toward in a football program and what I work toward as a person every day.

  We all have setbacks and we all get derailed sometimes. In sports, your team loses a game. In business, CEOs miss projections for the year. In the military, a battle doesn’t unfold as the general expected. What gets us back on track after such events is the clarity of our vision. If the goals, strategies, and techniques you have laid out for yourself are really true to your core self, you will always be able to get back to them. You will always want to get back to them.

  You will make competing to stay on course with your vision the way you live your life every day. It takes discipline, and that will come from your willingness to take control of your life. How badly do you want it? Are you willing to adjust your focus to create the changes and reach the potential that you already own? After all, we are simply talking about you developing the best you possible. The discipline comes when you consistently stay in touch with your vision. To help you do this, you may develop habits and reminders. Saying grace or daily prayers may keep you in touch with your spirituality; leaving reminder notes on your mirror can help keep you focused on your goals. Regardless of what the habit is, simple reminders can be powerful.

  Essentially, a clear, well-defined philosophy gives you the guidelines and boundaries that keep you on track. I recall Lou Tice giving me an example years ago—t
he difference between a bullet and a guided missile is that once a bullet is fired, it’s out of anyone’s control, but a guided missile is specifically designed to make course corrections. This is what a philosophy does for you—it helps you make the course corrections that you need.

  Years ago in New England, as I searched for my personal truths, I remembered being a teenager reading a story in a magazine about future NBA Hall of Famer Rick Barry. As I recall the story, the writer was interviewing him during a shoot-around before a game. Rick was shooting jump shots as they talked, moving from left to right twenty-five times and from right to left twenty-five times, draining almost every shot from the top of the key. I have always remembered the question the reporter asked as well as the answer from Rick.

  “Hey, Rick,” the reporter asked. “Do you have a philosophy of life, or some principle that guides you?” Rick turned to him, with an arrogant look that was practically a trademark, and simply said, “Yeah—I’m a 46 percent lifetime shooter. If I miss my first ten shots, look out!”

  I couldn’t get that statement out of my head. It wasn’t until years later that I came to realize the power you have when you truly know yourself. Even at the age of fifteen, I was struck by that statement and by what an extraordinary illustration of self-confidence it was. Rick was then only five years, give or take, into his fourteen-year NBA/ABA career. Just think about how well he must have known himself back then to espouse such an all-encompassing philosophy. He was saying, I know myself so well that if I miss my first ten shots, you had better look out, because I know I’m going to make my next ten . . . give or take a few. That wasn’t a prediction; it was a statement of fact. That was who he was as an athlete. What an outlook on basketball, life, and the power of “knowing thyself.” Imagine the power and authenticity he felt in that knowing. Certainty like that comes not merely from a high estimation of one’s own talent, but from a deep knowledge of one’s strengths and weaknesses. This principle has become one of the pillars of my philosophy both personally and professionally.