If Life Were Like Football…

At the end of each work day, the educators who lead school field trips through our park compare notes on the day’s experience.  Often, one of the educators will complain about how parents were a distraction to the group, or how the teachers assigned to the group not only did not enforce good behavior from their students, but modeled poor behavior for their students.

We were sharing these experiences after a particularly lousy day last week and I was reminded of one of my first days on the job coaching college football.

Our offensive staff was watching practice film when the head coach stopped the tape and asked me, “What is this kid doing?”

The kid in question was the tight end I was assigned to coach.

“He’s using the wrong technique,” I replied.  “He should be taking outside zone steps.”

“But he’s not,” coach responded.  “Did you teach him to take inside or outside zone steps on this play?”

“Outside.  We worked on outside zone steps this morning.”

“Did you correct his mistake on the field?”

“I didn’t have a chance.”

“So you allowed this to happen?”

Silence.

“The film doesn’t lie Coach Kluever.  Everything you see on this tape you either taught him to do or you allowed to happen.  Fix this.”

Wouldn’t it be wonderful, I told the educators, if we could say that very thing the parents and teachers who bring their kids to our park?  “Everything your students do, good and bad, you either taught them, or allow to happen.”  What a wonderful truth.

That same day I was talking to one of our volunteers at the park and mentioned that one of the things I miss about coaching is the immediate, clear-cut feedback one receives.  At the end of each season, everyone has a record – you won this many and lost this many.  At the end of each game, in gigantic yellow numbers is a score – you either won or lost.  At the end of every play, you either called the right thing and gained yardage or called the wrong thing and lost yardage.

It’s very simple – call the right blitz, pressure the quarterback, the pass falls incomplete.  Line up and play another snap.  Call the wrong coverage and the ball goes over your head for six points.  Call the right thing enough times and win.  Call the wrong thing too many times and you lose a game.  Lose too many games and lose your job.

There is nowhere to hide in football.  Every play, from every game and every practice, is on film.  You either did your job as a coach or player, or you failed.  All of us fail from time to time; those who learn from the failure get better and progress and eventually win.  Those who fail too often lose their job.  Sounds marvelous!

Parents, teachers – whatever behavior your student displays, you either taught or allowed to happen.  Those who teach and model the right way to do things are blessed with good, respectful kids.  Those who don’t teach and model properly should get ready to post bail for their son or daughter or update their resume for a new teaching job.  The more kids I observe the more obvious it becomes that the kids who fail are usually being failed by someone else, someone who should know better, someone who is teaching and allowing failure.

We are all faced with countless decisions each day.  Most of these decisions have pretty clear right and wrong answers and most of us are intelligent enough to know the difference between the good and bad choice.  And yet so many choose to fail.  We know what the right answer is, and CHOOSE to do the opposite.

If only we each had a film session at the end of the day…

“Mr. Smith, we see you on the tape having a loud, animated discussion on your cell phone while 50 students are trying to listen to their field trip guide.  Did you not realize that was rude?  Is there something complicated about stepping out of the room?  Is putting your phone on vibrate overly difficult?  Are you stupid or are you just a dick?”

“Ms. Potter, we checked the time stamp on the film and it showed that you allowed your child to cry during the movie for thirteen minutes and twelve seconds.  You will also notice on the tape that there 27 other people in the theater being distracted by your child.  You knew that you were a distraction and yet you did nothing.  And honestly Ms. Potter, why did you bring your infant son to Magic Mike?”

“Mrs. Warren, the sign says 15 items or less and you clearly have 147 items.  Are you illiterate?  Do you not know how to count?  We noticed you are wearing flip flops in the video so you could have used your toes to help.  Perhaps if we kick you 15 times in one shin and 147 times in the other you will understand the difference.” 

(The same coach who told me that everything I see on tape I either taught or allowed to happen also once told the entire team, “I know a lot of different ways to teach you what you need to know, but if you refuse to learn with those methods I will use pain.  Pain is a great teacher.”)

“Oh, and Mr. Jeffries, you can obviously see that Mrs. Warren has exceeded the 15 item limit and yet you let her check out through your line.  You are fired.”

Don’t get me wrong, I am not interested in creating an overly punitive world.  But, my patience for people who know what they should do and still choose to fail is extremely limited.  When those poor decisions are on display for impressionable youth who learn to model the failures of the adults in their lives, my frustration boils over.  Football wouldn’t tolerate choosing failure for long.  Neither should we.

We have a choice to do right and succeed or do wrong and fail, a choice to either learn from and fix our mistakes or continue to allow those failures to happen.  I know which team I want to be on.