**Editor’s Note:I chose this for another “Throwback Thursday” post ~ great reads from last year I’m not ready to archieve w/o one more pass. Enjoy!
I’m an honest person. In fact, I hate lying and am usually terrible at it. I’m the kind of person you should never ask “if your butt looks fat” in those jeans. While I wouldn’t be heartless about it, I’d probably say that we “can find a more flattering style.” So knowing this about myself, I was shocked and appalled by my recent behavior on a shopping trip to a local specialty store.
My friend Cristy at work has the coolest little loose leaf tea pot. I fell in love with it as she kindly made me a cup of tea one afternoon when I was feeling under the weather. So, after some internal deliberation about spending money for something that I wanted but did not necessarily need, I knew that I simply had to have one, too.
Before I went shopping, I estimated that I would probably spend about $30 on a tea pot and a couple of ounces of tea. I knew from the moment the sales clerk opened his mouth that my carefully planned budget had met its match. This guy knew more about tea and tea accessories than Bob Barry knows about Sooner football. He was simultaneously incredibly helpful and terrifying.
I was firm on only spending a set amount in this store and he was the czar of cross selling. I picked out the tea pot and then moved on to tea. I already knew which type I wanted so I asked for two ounces. He reminded me that you ‘get a better price break if you buy four.’ I was still feeling strong at this point and stuck to my guns. “No, I’ll just start with two ounces, thank you,” I said.
Then, he threw the first curveball my way. “You’ll need a tin to store it in. Otherwise it will rot. Would you like the small one or large one?” My mind started racing. Rotten tea? Well, I can’t have that! I had no choice but to buy the tin, right? So, I weakly said, “I’ll take the small one.” Score one for the tea king. Continue reading Little Green Lies: Fibbing for Budget’s Sake→
The coach is always an easy target. If your team looks bad, the knee-jerk reaction is always to blame the coach. If players aren’t living up to their potential, must be the coach’s fault. If there’s a key breakdown at a crucial moment in the game, the coach is clearly an idiot. If your team’s fortunes don’t turn around immediately, this coach must not be the right man for the job. If your kid isn’t getting enough playing time, the coach must have no idea what he’s doing.
Professional and collegiate coaches get paid big bucks, and I’m sure many of you would trade places with them in a heartbeat. Not me. No thank you. I’m not sure the paycheck is worth the constant pressure, scrutiny, hatred, name-calling and second-guessing that coaches put up with from fans, players, and media. Even if you can handle it, what about the toll it takes on your family? Every day, your kids get to hear about why you stink at your job. Entire websites are created just to promote and encourage your firing. Your demise is almost imminent from the moment you take the job, because there is no sympathy, no grace, and zero tolerance in the what-have-you-done-for-me-lately world of sports. These days, owners fire coaches like it’s a bodily function.
Let’s say you’ve got thick skin, and can get past all the material pointing out every reason why you’re an imbecile. Good for you. Now all you’ve got to do is take a group of men, women, or children and turn them into winners. Do that by managing several different personalities, varying backgrounds, an assortment of skill levels, and a dizzying array of attitudes. You have to know who to coddle and who to criticize. Who gets treated tenderly and who gets a dose of tough love? Make sure you earn your players respect, but don’t be too hard on them. Keep things fun and entertaining, but not too fun, because then you’ll lose that respect. Keep players happy with minutes and playing time, and you better know how to massage the ego of your stars and high draft picks. And if you happen to be a high school coach, good luck explaining to parents why Timmy didn’t make varsity. That’s a fun conversation.