I like to win. I did as a
competitive athlete, and I do as a coach. So what could I learn from a
one-win season? Everything.
Last fall, I became the coach of a newly
formed 14-under travel baseball team called the “Gamers.”
As a first step, my fellow coaches and I wanted to establish a
strong team culture and clearly define our priorities to both players and
parents. Before the season, we held a parents’ meeting and wrote a
letter to every family requesting that they “Honor the Game” with
their conduct. We discussed
our goals with our players and let them know we would stress the pursuit
of excellence over the win and that a gamer’s most noticeable attribute
should be his desire to play hard and work harder. Playing the game this
way, we told them, would make it fun.
At practice, with equal energy to teaching
the mechanics of the game, we drilled hustling on and off the field and
picking up the gloves of stranded base runners after our half-innings at
bat. We told our players that successfully accomplishing these
goals would represent at least 14 victories in a seven-inning game. After
recording three outs, we should have all nine of our players off the field
before the opponent had one on; after our at bat, nine of our players
should be sprinting on the field before the other team had one off. Helping stranded base runners with their equipment
demonstrated teamwork, alertness and unselfishness needed to accomplish
these 14 wins.
In our culture, Gamers were expected to
take risks and push themselves to make plays beyond what they thought
possible. In order to do this, players had to allow themselves to make
mistakes and rebound from failures. We discussed the importance of
mentally “flushing” errors and strikeouts, and we followed through by
never criticizing mistakes (although we did let players know when we felt
their efforts lagged). We also emphasized that teammates played an
important role in this process. To make sure that players were mentally in
the game at all times, we had everyone in the dugout face the field, stand
up and support their teammates when the ball was in play. In addition,
parents were not allowed to enter the dugout, so all conversations were
between people directly involved in the game.
We emphasized effort and learning to allow
players total control over their success; they responded with enthusiasm
on and off the field. We also gave players ownership of their learning
process. After games, players talked first, and important growth came from
their self-critique and analysis. Throughout
the season, players gave great effort and improved. Most importantly, they
came to practice with smiles on their faces.
Our first season was a huge success. We
won one game on the scoreboard, but had a multitude of our own victories.
Under the common definition of success, we
would have reevaluated our methods and changed our approach for the next
season. But our players and their parents had done everything we had asked
of them, and we believed winning would come as a byproduct of hard work,
not because it was an overriding goal. We were right. Our parents
supported the approach. They cheered for the effort made by both teams and
never questioned an umpire’s decision. Players took pride in what it
meant to be a Gamer. They played hard and worked harder. Before the end of
the next summer, we were winning more than we were losing.
A one-win season tested our ability to
redefine success. Honoring that principle made the eventual scoreboard
victories even sweeter.