The title of today's blog is the words I happened to say during and after the game on Thursday. I don't like to curse. I try not to practice cursing but dang-it, I hate losing. I am not a good loser which is one of the reasons I work so hard at winning. I once had a coaching friend of mine say that he thought losing got easier after so many years of coaching. I've not found that to be true. I love to win and love players who love to win.
This team loves to win and certainly competes hard. They did not try to lose on Thursday night. They gave everything they had that night. The problem was they didn't have much to give. Most of them were suffering from some form of the flu where coughing takes over the regular breathing mechanism and the result is the body replaces the exhalation of a breath with coughing fits.
I always tell the players that it doesn't matter if they are sick, tired, injured, angry, sad, or upset. When they get to practice or a game, they have to be there without any excuses. Of course, I understand there are days when the body refuses to give 100%. Yet, I am more concerned about how they are going to enter the battle. If they believe they should play through whatever ails them, they are more likely to do so.
I knew going into the game we were going to struggle because we had not had a successful practice all week. Monday, we didn't have enough healthy players to practice so we shot for 30 minutes. Tuesday, we attempted a practice but discovered that the players couldn't go hard. We ran a 32 second sprint and half of them spent the next two minutes coughing. This was not a good indicator of how we were going to run for the forty minutes which constitutes the length of a game.
I will give credit to Alderson-Broaddus for playing hard, executing their offense, and shooting the ball extremely well the second half. They did what they should have done--take advantage of our inability to play well. Despite having seven sick players out of our nine who play, I was still upset with them. Couldn't they find a way to dig deeper? Couldn't the two who were healthy carry us through the game?
I will admit to being a tad bit demanding. Maybe this was too big of a hurdle for them, but I won't give them that opening. If they search for excuses, they will always find them. I don't want them searching for excuses, I want them searching for answers no matter how difficult the obstacle seems. If they believe they should have overcome their illnesses to win, then the next time players are sick, they will step up and believe they should win anyway. It is always about mental toughness and believing in winning. Always.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
Growing on Dreams
I have watched this team evolve from a team who could not defend an out of bounds play (Remember Concord scoring 10 points on the same play), who could not score on a 2-on-1 fast break play (ouch!), and who could not coordinate a team offense (the infamous one-pass-chunk-it offense) to a team who is third in the league in scoring offense (71.4 ppg), third in scoring defense (59 ppg) and first in FG% defense (.374).
Early in the season, I remember thinking that we were not very good. As I watched us fumble with our offense, consistently forget to rotate on helpside defense, and overall play with a lack of confidence, I didn't know how we were going to win a game.
Naturally, I didn't share these thoughts with the team. I told them that they were good, that they should be winning games, and that they had the talent to be the best. We talked about dreams and goals--about winning the conference and the conference tournament and getting back to the national tournament. We talked about these things as if they were true. Then we practiced on the court as if they were true.
Then little by little the team started to evolve. It was small things at first: scoring a fast break lay-up, getting a stop on defense, winning a close game, holding a great player below her scoring average. With each small victory, a larger victory came about--the inner confidence of believing we should win.
How could this team graduate from average to great in 3 1/2 months? How could players shed their lack of self confidence for a stronger belief system? How could a group of individuals come together so quickly in tight unity? How could they develop a sense for the game only experienced veterans have?
The secret is in the belief system. There is a quote which states, "Success breeds success." With each win, the players became more secure in their talents. They started thinking they were good. As their belief systems became stronger, their play on the court became better. They always had the ability to be good, but they needed to believe it.
Last week in our game on Thursday, I witnessed one of the best team efforts offensively and defensively I have ever seen a Golden Eagle team play. We scored 56 points on offense in a vast array of ways: in the paint, on fast break points, against the zone, with three point attempts, and on penetration. Then we shut down our opponent defensively allowing only 22 points on 30% shooting. On Saturday night, we had another incredible half of basketball, scoring 50 points while allowing only 14 points.
Is this the same team I witnessed in November? NO. It is not. It is an amazing team who can now touch their dreams, feel them on their fingertips, and taste the sweetness of victory on the tips of their tongues. This is a team who can dare to dream and dare to make those dreams come true.
Early in the season, I remember thinking that we were not very good. As I watched us fumble with our offense, consistently forget to rotate on helpside defense, and overall play with a lack of confidence, I didn't know how we were going to win a game.
Naturally, I didn't share these thoughts with the team. I told them that they were good, that they should be winning games, and that they had the talent to be the best. We talked about dreams and goals--about winning the conference and the conference tournament and getting back to the national tournament. We talked about these things as if they were true. Then we practiced on the court as if they were true.
Then little by little the team started to evolve. It was small things at first: scoring a fast break lay-up, getting a stop on defense, winning a close game, holding a great player below her scoring average. With each small victory, a larger victory came about--the inner confidence of believing we should win.
How could this team graduate from average to great in 3 1/2 months? How could players shed their lack of self confidence for a stronger belief system? How could a group of individuals come together so quickly in tight unity? How could they develop a sense for the game only experienced veterans have?
The secret is in the belief system. There is a quote which states, "Success breeds success." With each win, the players became more secure in their talents. They started thinking they were good. As their belief systems became stronger, their play on the court became better. They always had the ability to be good, but they needed to believe it.
Last week in our game on Thursday, I witnessed one of the best team efforts offensively and defensively I have ever seen a Golden Eagle team play. We scored 56 points on offense in a vast array of ways: in the paint, on fast break points, against the zone, with three point attempts, and on penetration. Then we shut down our opponent defensively allowing only 22 points on 30% shooting. On Saturday night, we had another incredible half of basketball, scoring 50 points while allowing only 14 points.
Is this the same team I witnessed in November? NO. It is not. It is an amazing team who can now touch their dreams, feel them on their fingertips, and taste the sweetness of victory on the tips of their tongues. This is a team who can dare to dream and dare to make those dreams come true.
Monday, February 9, 2009
Passion Is Stronger Than Fear
There are many coaching philosophies and many ways to win. There is the tough coach who demands, demands, demands, and uses punishment as a means to right the errors on the court. I had a former coach like this whose answer to every loss was to make us run suicides. When we lost, we knew the next practice was going to be horrible. We were going to run until we could barely stand up. The awful thing was that this approach worked because we hated running. The consequence of not winning was so devastating that we absolutely feared the next day. This fear drove us to win.
Of course, we all loved the winning. Winning was fun but the means to achieve winning was not. I hated the thought of going to practice--the thought of running until I felt my insides were going to all come up through my throat. I grieved all day, anxiety eating through my stomach, tasting the acid of that gut rot on my tongue as I envisioned my legs turning to rubber. There was no joy throughout the day until the running was done. Then there was that small moment of reprieve when I knew I didn't have to go through that again until the next day.
Since I didn't enjoy my experience, I am not the type of coach who uses punishment as a means to win. I don't want my players fearing practice, worrying all day about what I might do to them. I want them eager to arrive, to learn how to become better, to enjoy the experience even if sometimes the answer to a problem might be a tough practice. I remember as an athlete running and running and running all the while thinking that we would be better off working on the skills we needed to improve.
Am I soft? I don't think so. Should I at times be a little tougher? Probably. Should I at times be a little more understanding? Probably. I do know, though, the answer to my teams is not punishment but coming together to resolve problems or issues.
Two Saturdays ago after we lost to WVW, I wanted to work them hard--to push and push and push until they got everything right. It was what I wanted but not necessarily what they needed. They needed to recover from a loss, to work on the skills they needed to beat the opponent the next time, and to allow themselves a little time off from basketball.
In order to achieve these things, we spent a few minutes writing in our journals about why we lost. Then we went around the room asking each player why she thought we played poorly. After it was determined that it was a mental issue, a game preparation issue, I asked the players to complete a homework assignment on how to change their mentality the next time this occurred.
The next step was to work on the skills in practice which needed improvement. We changed our emphasis in practices and spent more time on those skills. When my assistant coaches brought to my attention that the players seemed tired and needed rest, I gave them Thursday off. No practice. No team meetings. Their instructions were to get away from basketball and enjoy the day.
Does this philosophy work for every coach? No. It works for us because we build the team around the positive and focus on creating our dreams from this belief system. Hopefully, the idea is that our players will love the game and use this passion to play. I believe passion is stronger than fear and I know without a doubt it is more fun.
Of course, we all loved the winning. Winning was fun but the means to achieve winning was not. I hated the thought of going to practice--the thought of running until I felt my insides were going to all come up through my throat. I grieved all day, anxiety eating through my stomach, tasting the acid of that gut rot on my tongue as I envisioned my legs turning to rubber. There was no joy throughout the day until the running was done. Then there was that small moment of reprieve when I knew I didn't have to go through that again until the next day.
Since I didn't enjoy my experience, I am not the type of coach who uses punishment as a means to win. I don't want my players fearing practice, worrying all day about what I might do to them. I want them eager to arrive, to learn how to become better, to enjoy the experience even if sometimes the answer to a problem might be a tough practice. I remember as an athlete running and running and running all the while thinking that we would be better off working on the skills we needed to improve.
Am I soft? I don't think so. Should I at times be a little tougher? Probably. Should I at times be a little more understanding? Probably. I do know, though, the answer to my teams is not punishment but coming together to resolve problems or issues.
Two Saturdays ago after we lost to WVW, I wanted to work them hard--to push and push and push until they got everything right. It was what I wanted but not necessarily what they needed. They needed to recover from a loss, to work on the skills they needed to beat the opponent the next time, and to allow themselves a little time off from basketball.
In order to achieve these things, we spent a few minutes writing in our journals about why we lost. Then we went around the room asking each player why she thought we played poorly. After it was determined that it was a mental issue, a game preparation issue, I asked the players to complete a homework assignment on how to change their mentality the next time this occurred.
The next step was to work on the skills in practice which needed improvement. We changed our emphasis in practices and spent more time on those skills. When my assistant coaches brought to my attention that the players seemed tired and needed rest, I gave them Thursday off. No practice. No team meetings. Their instructions were to get away from basketball and enjoy the day.
Does this philosophy work for every coach? No. It works for us because we build the team around the positive and focus on creating our dreams from this belief system. Hopefully, the idea is that our players will love the game and use this passion to play. I believe passion is stronger than fear and I know without a doubt it is more fun.
Monday, February 2, 2009
Playing Not To Lose
There is a difference in playing to win and playing not to lose. It sounds the same. On the peripheral, it might seem insignificant to those who don't understand the psychological differences. Playing to win means you are in the moment, secure in the belief of the outcome, heading toward the goal of having more points than the opponent at the end of the game. You are calm, searching for answers as the game progresses, believing in your abilities and those of your teammates. It feels comfortable and easy even if the lead is changing possession by possession.
Playing not to lose, on the other hand, is stressful, mind-taxing, and muscle-tensing. Playing not to lose means you are worried from the beginning about the outcome. Your focus is not on the moment; it is on the what-ifs of losing. When you are in this place of torment, you are not free to play as yourself because your belief system is in doubt. Your emotions are in the zone of fear and fear creates the physical symptoms of increased heart rate, muscle tension, rapid breathing, tunnel vision, and energy consumption.
When coaches say at the end of the game that their team choked, they are referring to this concept of playing not to lose. It is a real not imagined phenomena. It is the mind controlling the outcome of a contest before the contest even begins.
Not to take anything away from West Virginia Wesleyan, but we lost the game before we entered the court on Saturday. After gaining the number one slot in the conference and the number three slot in the region, our minds begin to worry and be consumed with the idea of not remaining in those positions. The mind is a tricky organ, and it is difficult to change the course of a mind once it begins its route on a thought. It is like hearing a song in the morning and then singing it all day long. It just gets in your mind and repeats and repeats and repeats.
Going toward a goal is different than going away from one. For example, if I wanted to travel to Cleveland, I would get on Interstate 77 and go north. It would take me approximately 3 hours and 45 minutes to arrive in Cleveland. It would be an easy drive. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there. There were no questions about which route was going to get me to where I wanted to go.
Suppose my goal was to go away from Charleston. I had no real destination in mind other than going away from Charleston. I might end up in Cleveland but it could take me hours because I had no real destination in mind; therefore, I might take back roads, detours, or go to five different cities before arriving. I would be tired of driving, my neck muscles would be tense, my eyes would be fatigue, and I would be hungry.
There is a real difference in heading toward something rather than going away from it or trying to avoid it. How do we return to going toward a win rather than trying so hard not to lose? We become aware of what we are doing. We change our words we speak to ourselves. We learn the lesson that we have to think in terms of a positive goal. We believe we have done it before so we can do it again. We understand that we control our minds and our minds do not control us. And we try. We get back on the court and play like we are capable.
Playing not to lose, on the other hand, is stressful, mind-taxing, and muscle-tensing. Playing not to lose means you are worried from the beginning about the outcome. Your focus is not on the moment; it is on the what-ifs of losing. When you are in this place of torment, you are not free to play as yourself because your belief system is in doubt. Your emotions are in the zone of fear and fear creates the physical symptoms of increased heart rate, muscle tension, rapid breathing, tunnel vision, and energy consumption.
When coaches say at the end of the game that their team choked, they are referring to this concept of playing not to lose. It is a real not imagined phenomena. It is the mind controlling the outcome of a contest before the contest even begins.
Not to take anything away from West Virginia Wesleyan, but we lost the game before we entered the court on Saturday. After gaining the number one slot in the conference and the number three slot in the region, our minds begin to worry and be consumed with the idea of not remaining in those positions. The mind is a tricky organ, and it is difficult to change the course of a mind once it begins its route on a thought. It is like hearing a song in the morning and then singing it all day long. It just gets in your mind and repeats and repeats and repeats.
Going toward a goal is different than going away from one. For example, if I wanted to travel to Cleveland, I would get on Interstate 77 and go north. It would take me approximately 3 hours and 45 minutes to arrive in Cleveland. It would be an easy drive. I knew where I wanted to go and how to get there. There were no questions about which route was going to get me to where I wanted to go.
Suppose my goal was to go away from Charleston. I had no real destination in mind other than going away from Charleston. I might end up in Cleveland but it could take me hours because I had no real destination in mind; therefore, I might take back roads, detours, or go to five different cities before arriving. I would be tired of driving, my neck muscles would be tense, my eyes would be fatigue, and I would be hungry.
There is a real difference in heading toward something rather than going away from it or trying to avoid it. How do we return to going toward a win rather than trying so hard not to lose? We become aware of what we are doing. We change our words we speak to ourselves. We learn the lesson that we have to think in terms of a positive goal. We believe we have done it before so we can do it again. We understand that we control our minds and our minds do not control us. And we try. We get back on the court and play like we are capable.
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