I know I have not kept regular blog days this past few weeks. I am having a difficult time prioritizing what is most important: recruiting, scouting opponents, preparing for practices or writing the blog. Unfortunately, the blog keeps getting pushed to the back because I know without the others I won't have a job for long and the blog . . . well, the blog is just for fun.
This week I want to mention a single player--one who is been on the team for 2 1/2 years but who has not received much attention. She is strong, powerful, athletic, quick, plays solid defense and can score, and she did all these things in preseason never allowing herself the opportunity to show up in games the same way she did in preseason practices.
We have waited for her to become the incredible player we told her she was, but she didn't buy into what we told her until recently. In the past three weeks, she has found her inner light and has begun to shine in every aspect of the game. As coaches we are astounded by what she is accomplishing and at the same time aware she had this talent all along. Our amazement is that she has finally allowed herself to be the superb player we all knew she was.
I am thrilled for her, excited when she does something good and am hopeful this new found confidence will shine in other areas of her life. We want our players to believe they can become anything, accomplish the seemingly impossible. It is what we preach on a daily basis, but alas we cannot reach into their brains and flip the confidence switch. They must do this for themselves.
Moneka Slaughter found that switch. It took her a little longer than I would have preferred but she found it. Some people go through life never believing, never seeing their talents; they surrender to what they believe life has given them. BUT Mo, well she has found the strength to change, to seek something better for herself, and as a team we are all behind her and cheer her on when she makes a steal or blocks a shot or catches the ball with one hand and slaps into her chest.
This week I give three cheers for Moneka and I hope this is just the beginning of a life full of confidence and fulfillment.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Loving The Journey
There was a psychology teacher who was giving her class an oral exam on the chapter of mental illnesses. She asked the question: "What would you call a person who is exuberant one moment, pacing up and down screaming at the top of her lungs and the next moment is sitting down, head held between her hands sobbing?" A student in the back row raised her hand and replied, "A basketball coach!"
I know the feeling--total exuberance, excitement, a feeling of euphoria, the moment when all seems to come together. I know this feeling. It was the home game against West Virginia Wesleyan when all our shots fell, when the defensive timing was right, when all the players were on the same page. And then again, I felt the joy of winning in Glenville where they hadn't lost a home game, where the crowd can be a bit rough, and when they created 28 turnovers yet we still found a rhythm and a way to win.
And only a short two days later in the game against Davis and Elkins, I felt the sobs, the tears, the heartache of watching the Golden Eagles fall after two such decisive victories. It is like this for a coach and team--the coming together, the feeling of complete and utter joy when the journey takes a turn toward our goals and dreams, and then the disappointment and pain when the road seems to curve too far and the dream disappears from view.
Sometimes we forget that life is a journey and a season is a segment of life, of this journey that we are here to travel. We forget a journey is this great opportunity for growth, to extend ourselves, to create new possibilities. What we think we want is to get to the end of the rainbow, to sit at the pot of gold without taking the trip. We believe we would be content with the arrival of our dreams without the journey, but the problem with that is we would not be the people we are.
I look at the players who are on the court and I am thrilled with who they are today--who they created themselves to become. I think of Tarenna and the young woman who used to put her head down with every missed shot, who quit at the first taste of adversity and who now has the strength and maturity to push through bad shots. I remember Tiana who took every coaching critique personally and who got too angry to receive any tips from her teammates and who now can listen, shake her head in the affirmative and continue to play hard. I remember Lindsey who just a year ago when she missed a shot would quit shooting, believing she wouldn't make the next one. And now, this tremendous shooter, just keeps shooting knowing the next shot will fall. How about Ali and Katy? Ali was the teary-eyed player, who when things weren't going well couldn't get her confidence back and today she fights through the tears, not letting them fall, keeping them in check and allowing herself the ability to get back on the court and play with toughness. And Katy? Well, Katy was the player who could never make the time for the 12 minute run until this year. She was the player who couldn't play back-to-back games tough until this season.
Who would they be without the journey? Who would they be without this opportunity to get better? I am thankful for the journey, for the ups and downs, for the challenges that get placed in front of us, because in the end, we are here for the growth, for that opportunity to become better people and players. What we must learn to do is to enjoy the journey no matter where it takes us having faith our dream is still real.
I know the feeling--total exuberance, excitement, a feeling of euphoria, the moment when all seems to come together. I know this feeling. It was the home game against West Virginia Wesleyan when all our shots fell, when the defensive timing was right, when all the players were on the same page. And then again, I felt the joy of winning in Glenville where they hadn't lost a home game, where the crowd can be a bit rough, and when they created 28 turnovers yet we still found a rhythm and a way to win.
And only a short two days later in the game against Davis and Elkins, I felt the sobs, the tears, the heartache of watching the Golden Eagles fall after two such decisive victories. It is like this for a coach and team--the coming together, the feeling of complete and utter joy when the journey takes a turn toward our goals and dreams, and then the disappointment and pain when the road seems to curve too far and the dream disappears from view.
Sometimes we forget that life is a journey and a season is a segment of life, of this journey that we are here to travel. We forget a journey is this great opportunity for growth, to extend ourselves, to create new possibilities. What we think we want is to get to the end of the rainbow, to sit at the pot of gold without taking the trip. We believe we would be content with the arrival of our dreams without the journey, but the problem with that is we would not be the people we are.
I look at the players who are on the court and I am thrilled with who they are today--who they created themselves to become. I think of Tarenna and the young woman who used to put her head down with every missed shot, who quit at the first taste of adversity and who now has the strength and maturity to push through bad shots. I remember Tiana who took every coaching critique personally and who got too angry to receive any tips from her teammates and who now can listen, shake her head in the affirmative and continue to play hard. I remember Lindsey who just a year ago when she missed a shot would quit shooting, believing she wouldn't make the next one. And now, this tremendous shooter, just keeps shooting knowing the next shot will fall. How about Ali and Katy? Ali was the teary-eyed player, who when things weren't going well couldn't get her confidence back and today she fights through the tears, not letting them fall, keeping them in check and allowing herself the ability to get back on the court and play with toughness. And Katy? Well, Katy was the player who could never make the time for the 12 minute run until this year. She was the player who couldn't play back-to-back games tough until this season.
Who would they be without the journey? Who would they be without this opportunity to get better? I am thankful for the journey, for the ups and downs, for the challenges that get placed in front of us, because in the end, we are here for the growth, for that opportunity to become better people and players. What we must learn to do is to enjoy the journey no matter where it takes us having faith our dream is still real.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Playing on Pluto
Sometimes the game can eat you up, tear up your insides, making your intestines jelly and your stomach cement. It can make you go crazy as you watch perfectly good players become aliens from another planet, substituting spaghetti for brains and tombstones for hands. When you look into the eyes of your players and they are glazed over, a sheen covering their pupils, making them appear glassy and reflective, then you know they have left planet earth and are taking a trip far, far away in a different galaxy. This is the time coaches appear insane, doing things fans believe should qualify them for the loony bin. We cajole, make jokes, plead, jump up and down, yell, and scream encouragement all while attempting to bring our players back to the court.
Last week was one such game as I watched helplessly from the sideline as the Golden Eagles forgot who they were. Every offensive principle we had taught was thrown into space somewhere orbiting Pluto. We build our offense on ball reversals and the inside-outside principle, spreading the defense, making them shift side to side until we find the hole, the split, the opening to take advantage. When we play in this fashion, we are strong, utilizing the strengths of each of our players. When we forget and start to pretend only 1/4 of the floor exists and the paint is toxic to our touch, then we don't perform as well.
Defensively was perhaps worse, if possible, than our offense, as we allowed our opponents every opportunity to do exactly as they pleased. Our defensive principles rest on the concept of taking something away the offense wants to achieve. We study their game, their individual players and come up with a plan which will limit or disrupt what they do well. When we give them what they desire, our defense falls apart.
This happens once or twice a year when perfectly good players are lost in their own bodies. It is a phenomena every team experiences; it is not limited to the Golden Eagles. A coach only hopes it occurs on a night when the opponent is weak enough her players can fight through it and still claim a victory.
The danger in playing such a game is players tend to start believing the bad game is who they are--not all the other games when they played as somebody else who inhabits their body on a daily basis. What does a team do to recover? How do they go back and ask their bodies and brains to operate on normal?
This is the million dollar question--the one if I answered correctly would net me a book deal, a new house in Montana and early retirement. While I do have an answer, it is not easy to provide because it requires players to manage their thoughts--to listen intimately to their daily inner conversations, and to change the negative thoughts which swirl around their brains telling them such nonsense as they are not fast enough, smart enough, quick enough, etc. The mind is a powerful tool and we rarely spend time cultivating it, tending to it as if it were a beautiful garden providing us with all the nutrition we would ever need.
The power is always in the thought. Those players who are great BELIEVED they were great long before any coach or parent or sibling told them so. They knew it to be true. I tell my players all the time how good they are, what talents they possess, how they can become better, feeding them positive words for their garden, but if they can't hear me and always answer with a but then I can't help them. For example, if I tell them they are a great three point shooter but when they hear me, they add "but only when I am wide open and get three seconds to shoot the ball" then they have limited their belief system.
Since I couldn't get into their brains to rewire them, I did the second best thing and asked to write down 10 positive things they gained from the loss, 10 ways they played better when they were enthusiastic and motivated, and to list each of their teammates and a great thing about them and then the one thing which if they changed would make them better. I then had them share their thoughts with one another, hoping the words on paper would filter through into their brains.
We have not played a game since departing planet earth, but we have practiced and the team appears normal . . . at least as normal as they can appear with a crazed coach pushing them to get past their self-imposed limits.
Last week was one such game as I watched helplessly from the sideline as the Golden Eagles forgot who they were. Every offensive principle we had taught was thrown into space somewhere orbiting Pluto. We build our offense on ball reversals and the inside-outside principle, spreading the defense, making them shift side to side until we find the hole, the split, the opening to take advantage. When we play in this fashion, we are strong, utilizing the strengths of each of our players. When we forget and start to pretend only 1/4 of the floor exists and the paint is toxic to our touch, then we don't perform as well.
Defensively was perhaps worse, if possible, than our offense, as we allowed our opponents every opportunity to do exactly as they pleased. Our defensive principles rest on the concept of taking something away the offense wants to achieve. We study their game, their individual players and come up with a plan which will limit or disrupt what they do well. When we give them what they desire, our defense falls apart.
This happens once or twice a year when perfectly good players are lost in their own bodies. It is a phenomena every team experiences; it is not limited to the Golden Eagles. A coach only hopes it occurs on a night when the opponent is weak enough her players can fight through it and still claim a victory.
The danger in playing such a game is players tend to start believing the bad game is who they are--not all the other games when they played as somebody else who inhabits their body on a daily basis. What does a team do to recover? How do they go back and ask their bodies and brains to operate on normal?
This is the million dollar question--the one if I answered correctly would net me a book deal, a new house in Montana and early retirement. While I do have an answer, it is not easy to provide because it requires players to manage their thoughts--to listen intimately to their daily inner conversations, and to change the negative thoughts which swirl around their brains telling them such nonsense as they are not fast enough, smart enough, quick enough, etc. The mind is a powerful tool and we rarely spend time cultivating it, tending to it as if it were a beautiful garden providing us with all the nutrition we would ever need.
The power is always in the thought. Those players who are great BELIEVED they were great long before any coach or parent or sibling told them so. They knew it to be true. I tell my players all the time how good they are, what talents they possess, how they can become better, feeding them positive words for their garden, but if they can't hear me and always answer with a but then I can't help them. For example, if I tell them they are a great three point shooter but when they hear me, they add "but only when I am wide open and get three seconds to shoot the ball" then they have limited their belief system.
Since I couldn't get into their brains to rewire them, I did the second best thing and asked to write down 10 positive things they gained from the loss, 10 ways they played better when they were enthusiastic and motivated, and to list each of their teammates and a great thing about them and then the one thing which if they changed would make them better. I then had them share their thoughts with one another, hoping the words on paper would filter through into their brains.
We have not played a game since departing planet earth, but we have practiced and the team appears normal . . . at least as normal as they can appear with a crazed coach pushing them to get past their self-imposed limits.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
The Blessings of Being a Coach
Sometimes as a coach I feel absolutely blessed by the members of my team. They make me smile. They make me laugh. They make me feel young. They make me proud. During the game against Ohio Valley last Thursday night was one of those nights when I was in such a state.
We were not playing well, shooting the ball rather poorly, slow to transition to defense, forgetting to box out. We were in the gym physically but had left our brains somewhere on the rather slow-moving van ride in the sleet and snow between Charleston and Vienna. The athletes from Ohio Valley were giving us all we could handle, bringing their best and making us sweat.
Tarenna and Tiana, two of our consistent starters, were struggling with their shots, feeling a little out of sorts and beginning to feel the consternation which comes with doing less than their best. Their attitudes started to falter and they began to look toward the negative side of themselves and teammates. A year ago, Tarenna would have continued the down slide letting herself tumble into the abyss of negativity. She would have doubted her skills and performed at a lower rate. Tiana would have gotten angry, mad at her teammates and coaches and would have shown frustration on her lips, eyes, jaws, on every limb and every particle of her being.
BUT that was a year ago. This year that is not who they are. They have been transformed into strong women, women who believe in their abilities, who see the power of enthusiasm. After half time, they came out dressed in smiles, determination and self worth. They carried themselves differently, taller and stronger, powerful women in maroon shorts and shirts.
During the second half, they left all doubts behind and became the heart and the strength of the team. They encouraged others and stepped up their games. They played with the heart of warriors, battling for rebounds, sprinting the floor on transition, and taking the ball to the hoop without fear.
I sat back on the bench and smiling felt that parental feeling which comes when a child does well, when she reaches an apex, an epiphany, the top of the world. I felt that way then, the parent loving the child, loving what the child had become. They gave a gift to me that day--the gift of emotional maturity, of a child growing into a woman, and I felt blessed.
We were not playing well, shooting the ball rather poorly, slow to transition to defense, forgetting to box out. We were in the gym physically but had left our brains somewhere on the rather slow-moving van ride in the sleet and snow between Charleston and Vienna. The athletes from Ohio Valley were giving us all we could handle, bringing their best and making us sweat.
Tarenna and Tiana, two of our consistent starters, were struggling with their shots, feeling a little out of sorts and beginning to feel the consternation which comes with doing less than their best. Their attitudes started to falter and they began to look toward the negative side of themselves and teammates. A year ago, Tarenna would have continued the down slide letting herself tumble into the abyss of negativity. She would have doubted her skills and performed at a lower rate. Tiana would have gotten angry, mad at her teammates and coaches and would have shown frustration on her lips, eyes, jaws, on every limb and every particle of her being.
BUT that was a year ago. This year that is not who they are. They have been transformed into strong women, women who believe in their abilities, who see the power of enthusiasm. After half time, they came out dressed in smiles, determination and self worth. They carried themselves differently, taller and stronger, powerful women in maroon shorts and shirts.
During the second half, they left all doubts behind and became the heart and the strength of the team. They encouraged others and stepped up their games. They played with the heart of warriors, battling for rebounds, sprinting the floor on transition, and taking the ball to the hoop without fear.
I sat back on the bench and smiling felt that parental feeling which comes when a child does well, when she reaches an apex, an epiphany, the top of the world. I felt that way then, the parent loving the child, loving what the child had become. They gave a gift to me that day--the gift of emotional maturity, of a child growing into a woman, and I felt blessed.
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