An Extraordinary Leader

"War is Hell" of that there can be no doubt.  But out of that Hell emerges extraordinary leadership, sometimes from unlikely sources.

Richard "Dick" Winters was a smart, mild-mannered, college-educated man from Pennsylvania who, at the age of 23, three months before the attack on Pearl Harbor, enlisted in the Army. He underwent basic training, then was selected for Officer Candidate School.  He joined the paratroop infantry and was assigned to Easy Company of the 101st Airborne Division. The first active combat he saw was on June 6, 1944 -- D-Day. That day the Company Commander was killed when his plane was shot down and Winters became the acting commanding officer.

Winters led his troops during the Normandy Invasion and on his first day of command led an assault that destroyed a battery of German 105 mm howitzers which were firing onto the causeways that served as the principal exits from Utah Beach, an attack that became known as the Brécourt Manor Assault. The attack is still taught at West Point as an example of a textbook assault on a fixed position.

He went on to lead his troops through several of the major campaigns in Europe in 1944 and 1945, including Bastogne. Many, many years later Winters' heroism, as well as that of most of those with whom he served, was depicted in Stephen Ambrose's book Band of Brothers and a television mini-series of the same name.

The real Dick Winters, courtesy of Wikipedia.

Dick Winters passed away last week at the age of 92. Consistent with his self-effacing manner, he had requested that news of his death not be made public until after his memorial service, which was held last Saturday. As I read of his death, and reminded myself again of his extraordinary life, I reflected on the words of his comrades and Major Winters himself on what made him such a great leader.

And it's really pretty simple. Most importantly of all, Winters cared about his men and made sure that they understood both what he expected of them and how proud he was of them. One of the men who served under him summed up Winters and his leadership to the Associated Press this way: "He was a wonderful officer, a wonderful leader. He had what you needed, guts and brains. He took care of his men, that's very important."

Winters himself wrote of his view of leadership this way in an article in American History Magazine: "If you can, find that peace within yourself, that peace and quiet and confidence that you can pass on to others, so that they know that you are honest and you are fair and will help them, no matter what, when the chips are down."

Most of us, as coaches, managers, human resource directors, or lawyers are fortunate to not find ourselves tested on the field of battle. But the rules of engagement with those working under us are largely the same, just not a matter of life and death. We don't need to be Dick Winters to be at least good leaders. Caring for those we work with, and letting them know that, is the hallmark of a good, if not great, leader.

Nor must we be Henry V of England, or William Shakespeare, who wrote the St. Crispin's Day Speech, delivered by the character of Henry V before the Battle of Agincourt, from which Band of Brothers borrowed its title. That speech is a fitting epitaph to Winters and that Greatest Generation who are leaving us day-by-day:

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother

The Damned Rovers?

Cindy and I watched the movie "The Damned United" this weekend and I couldn't help but draw an analogy between the topic of the movie -- Brian Clough's brief, unsuccessful reign as manager of Leeds United in 1974 -- and the current situation that my Blackburn Rovers find themselves in.

To make a long story short, Clough was a young, brash, self-confident manger in England who led lowly Derby (that's pronounced "Darby" for all you American readers) County from the depths of the second division to the championship of Division One in England (what is now called the Premier League) in two short years. Along the way he first admired and then came to loathe the manager of Leeds United, Don Revie, who was an "old school" manger (read: his players played hard, arguably dirty, soccer).

Clough had a habit of buying the rights to players without the approval of the Chairman of Derby and, at least according the to admittedly fictionalized movie account depicted in The Damned United, became more arrogant in his dealings with the Chairman after his initial success. Ultimately, he submitted his resignation to the Board in an attempted power play to leverage his running of the club without the Chairman's involvement. Unfortunately for him, the resignation was accepted.

After a brief stint at a lower division club in Brighton, Clough was offered the manager's position at Leeds. Revie had accepted the job as England's manager and the club targeted Clough as his replacement.
Clough's reign at Leeds lasted exactly 44 days, but during that time he managed to alienate its board, the media, Revie, and most importantly his players. Whether Clough was right or not (and the movie suggests that he was) it was hardly the way to start a relationship when he supposedly told his players (who had won the first division championship in 1973-74, the year before Clough led Derby to the title, and the FA Cup the year before that) that they could "all throw [their] medals in the bin because they were not fairly won."

Brian Clough leading Leeds onto the pitch before the 1974 FA Charity Shield match. 

Predictably, the players did not play hard for Clough and he was ousted after less than a month and a half in charge.

The comparison to Blackburn is that this week its new owners sacked their manager, Sam Allardyce. While many Rovers fans were not admirers of Allardyce, they were almost unanimously surprised by his firing since Rovers were mid-table at the time -- a standing about as good as most fans expect given the club's limited resources. There was talk of a protest by fans before the match this past Saturday against West Ham and many have speculated that the firing, the reasons given for it (essentially, lack of ambition and an unattractive style of play), and the expectations that the club's new owners have all demonstrate that they are naive at best and will endanger the club's Premier League life at worst.

I suspect that just as Clough failed to appreciate how his words and attitude would affects his new players at Leeds and their desire to play well for him, so too Allardyce may have overestimated the weight his belief in his own managerial style and abilities would have with Rovers' new owners when compared to how his message was delivered.

Sam Allardyce, cutting a somewhat less dashing figure than Clough.

Allardyce, although admittedly somewhat successful in a previous managerial stint at Bolton and in keeping Rovers afloat, seems (inordinately) impressed with his own managerial ability, which to the casual observer is exclusively comprised of one-note football built around long balls and set pieces. To his credit, his players did seem to genuinely like playing for him. But the players weren't footing the bill.

This is pure, unsupported conjecture on my part, but one can easily imagine Allardyce communicating with his new bosses in a manner that was both self-congratulatory and condescending in informing them of his previous work, what their priorities should be (almost exclusively Premier League survival), and how they should go about achieving them (leaving him alone and letting him manage the club the way he wanted to).

Like Clough, Allardyce entered a new situation in his job and probably thought that the way he had handled such a relationship in the past would be good enough -- particularly since it was his way. You should always consider before speaking to any audience not only the message but how it ought to be conveyed. Particularly if your job is on the line. And if you're a manager, it always is, isn't it?

I Guess It's Unavoidable

I've been avoiding my impulse to comment on the whole South Charleston-Hurricane-Brooke-SSAC-Judge Webster-Supreme Court brouhaha for a number of reasons. I serve on the SSAC's Soccer Committee (possible conflict). I know South Charleston's defensive coordinator (possible conflict). My wife Cindy is an employee of the Supreme Court of Appeals of West Virginia (you get the idea). I have met and like Judge Webster and the players' counsel, Ben Salango. One of the counsel for Brooke County is my former law school roommate. The conflicts abound.

And yet, I have to weigh in on the issue of whether the SSAC and the Supreme Court got it right, don't I? Isn't this blog supposed to be about coaching and the law? When the two intersect, as they so clearly did here, I would be remiss if I didn't throw in my two cents' worth.

So here it is. The Supreme Court got it right. And South Charleston High has only its coaches and administration to blame if it doesn't like the result.

Like it or not, the SSAC has to have the ability and the right to serve as the ultimate arbiter of decisions regarding eligibility and suspensions. The Supreme Court made it very clear in the O.J. Mayo case just three years ago that it was going to give the SSAC wide latitude in its governance of high school sports. Whether you agree with all, most, or none of its decisions, the SSAC can't run high school sports (and, by extension, its referees can't govern and control contests) if it is subject to being second-guessed by a litigant or a court whenever it makes a decision.

As for the SSAC's swift action in declaring the semi-final between Brooke and South Charleston forfeited, you had to see that coming.  I'm sure South Charleston understood that if it played the suspended players and the court's decision ultimately went against them, the SSAC would make them forfeit the game.

I can't for the life of me understand the South Charleston head coach's comments blaming the SSAC and particularly the Brooke County Board of Education for the decision. He must have known that playing the four suspended players could (and likely would) result in the forfeiture of the game. How can you blame Brooke County for making sure that the correct decision was made before the Championship game took place?

South Charleston's coach and administration had three clear choices: (1) discipline the players for their part in the brawl (which was never denied in any of the court proceedings); (2) impose no discipline but hold them out of the Brooke game pending a final resolution of the court case; (3) put the players in the game despite the suspensions and take their chances that the players would prevail before the Supreme Court.

That they chose option three speaks volumes for what they thought was important (winning, at any cost) and what they thought the chances of winning were without the players (zilch).

The Eagles made their nest, no one else. Now they can lie in it all winter long.

Blah, blah, blah

So for some reason last Saturday night I continually subjected myself to the inane musings of three different commentators on three different college football games. And since misery loves company I feel the need to inflict some of the pain on my readers as well.

Brent Musburger, Matt Millen, and Bob Davie were the guilty parties this weekend, but by no means are they the only sinners when it comes to filling our ears with useless trivia, incorrect information, statements of the obvious, or the repeated utterance of all three. Instead of the old adage "those who can do, do, those that can't, teach" (with which I do not agree, by the way) I firmly believe that these days "those that can do, do, and those that can't talk about it endlessly and for some inexplicable reason are paid to do it."

Each of the three guilty parties, though, is a poster boy for his own particular brand of inanity. Musburger is a know-it-all-who-is-mostly-wrong whose status as a semi-iconic broadcaster is a constant source of befuddlement for me. He always tries to "capture the moment" through some over-the-top description rather than allowing the viewer (or listener in his case) to reach his or her own conclusion, or even enjoy the moment in some way other than that which Brent tells you to. Brent's babbling is so predictable, there's even a hilarious drinking game in his honor.

Davie insists on saying the same thing over and over and over. During the South Florida v. UConn game I must have heard him say on at least five different occasions (and keep in mind I was switching between that game and the Florida State-Virginia Tech and Oklahoma-Nebraska games too) about how "similar" UConn and South Florida were and then supposedly backing it up with meaningless statistics ("see!  told you! they both have 163 total yards through three quarters!!!"). We got the point the first time Bob.  And the second. And the third . . .

The winner in the race for my opprobrium award, however is Millen. I admit it stems at least in part from his miserable tenure as the General Manager of the Detroit Lions, something from which they still have not recovered two seasons after his much belated departure. Really, how much of an expert can a guy be who drafts a wide receiver two consecutive years when his team's defense is the worst in the League?

Millen's forte in the booth is, not surprisingly, stating the obvious. "They could really use a first down here" on third and long.  Or short. "They need a touchdown here" when a team is down by 21 with five minutes to go. Thanks for that, Matt. We never would have figured it out without you.

There are some good broadcasters doing football games (Al Michaels and Cris Collinsworth are very good on Sunday Night Football, and as much as it pains me to say it, Kirk Herbstreit is funny and insightful), but with the bowl season upon us, I plan to keep a finger on the mute button or else my television set may not last until January 11.

WWFD?

What Will FIFA Do?

If you're a fan of international soccer, you know that this week FIFA will announce the nations to which it will grant the expensive privilege of hosting the 2018 and 2022 World Cups. The 2018 bid is guaranteed to go to a European nation or combination of nations among England, Russia, Spain/Portugal, or Holland/Belgium. Meanwhile, the finalists for the 2022 host are the U.S., South Korea, Japan, Australia, and Qatar.

Yes, Qatar.

Handicapping the races is about as easy as counting on there being only one minute of stoppage time when the visitors are leading at Old Trafford. All of what one would think would be the considerations that go into the decision (which country/ies have the best infrastructure, the most people, the most diverse population, the most to gain for soccer as a sport by creating or solidifying a fan base?) take a back seat when FIFA is at the helm.

Instead graft, collusion, and megalomaniacal kingdom making rule the day. Two federations have already been caught trying to take bribes for their votes (by an English newspaper reporter posing as an individual trying to buy support for the USA's bid -- why didn't he pose as a Brit?). FIFA's current head honcho Sepp Blatter has made it clear that he sees himself as soccer's missionary (or Messianic) version of St. Paul or St. Patrick, hellbent (there's an oxymoron for you) on bringing the world's game to the great unwashed in the Asian and Arab worlds.

Blatter also apparently believes that he/FIFA can do what 50 years of diplomacy haven't done and bring peace to the Korean Peninsula if South Korea were to host the World Cup. Never mind that it didn't make a whit of difference when South Korea co-hosted the Cup with Japan just eight years ago (North Korea turned down an offer to host some games) and that North Korea may be one of the few institutions in the world more corruptly and dictatorially run than FIFA. Finally, Qatar and Spain/Portugal have allegedly cut a deal to support each others' bids and all of South America's representatives have already announced that they will support the Iberians.

Any or all of which are reasons why Qatar, home to 1.7 million citizens and 120F temperatures when the matches will be played in the summer of 2022 (but lots and lots of oil money) has a chance.

England was the early favorite for the 2018 bid, but first Russia and then Spain/Portugal have made strong runs.  Never mind that the Iberian Peninsula is widely regarded as the EU's next likely bailout target, scuttling along behind Greece and Ireland -- I guess FIFA figures if they have to be bailed out, what's another few billion that the costs of hosting the World Cup will add? Handicapping is impossible, but if recent trends are any indication, the 2018 WC may have a Latin flair.

Which may actually help the American bid, since it's widely suspected that FIFA will not give the hosting honor to two Anglo countries in a row. Still, the U.S. seems to lack support from anyone one particular region other than its own, which holds only three of the twelve votes needed to win the rights to host.

Japan is viewed as having no chance and Australia seems to be too remote and even more disinterested than the U.S. in soccer as a nation to be a contender, although it is trying to get its federation vice president voting rights at the meeting (the Oceania president was one of those caught with his hand in the cookie jar). One would think South Korea has hosted too recently to have a shot, but there's that whole Team America thing Blatter has working that lends its bid an air of legitimacy (another oxymoron in this process). Qatar would be the first Arab nation to host -- and did I mention that it allegedly has some oil money?

The U.S. makes the most sense for a lot of reasons (in particular those in parentheses in the fourth paragraph of this post) but rarely does sense rule the day with FIFA. That's why I won't be surprised if the 2022 World Cup is played in the desert, in air conditioned outdoor stadiums with lots and lots of empty seats.

Arte et Labore

So, we've just won our third straight State championship by a score of 3-0, finished a season undefeated, and virtually guaranteed a National ranking at the end of the year. And most of the quotes in a newspaper article about the Final game are me moaning about how we didn't play particularly well.

No mention of the fact that we just went through a season in which we played and beat all four AAA state semi-finalists as well as an Ohio state finalist. No nod to our undefeated season, to the fact that the last time we lost a game was in August 2009, to our 46-game unbeaten streak. No reference to the first "three-peat" in West Virginia soccer in a decade.

I've been wondering the last few days if I can defend my comments based on some argument that aesthetics are important to me and I care not only about whether we win but how we look while we're doing it, or we really didn't play that well and I wanted us to go out on a high note. Or maybe that I wanted to impress on our returning players that there was still unfinished business that needs to be taken care of next season.

Or maybe I'm just a grouch.

I don't think I'm usually an over-demanding coach. Not a lot of yelling. I generally try to be positive, before, during, and after games (although admittedly once this year the whole team was mad at me because of my obvious, and repeatedly expressed, disappointment at their play). So what's up with the Steve Spurrier imitation?

I think I just wanted to be our last game together to be perfect and I was disappointed when it wasn't. We had played so well all season and set such high standards for ourselves that I wanted that final to be a celebration of what we were capable of -- attractive, maybe even beautiful, attacking soccer. But I should have recognized it as a celebration of a different sort. Not of art, but of the value of plain old hard work and determination.

The crest of my favorite professional soccer team, Blackburn Rovers, has the Latin phrase "Arte et Labore" -- by skill and hard work -- on it.

I recognize now (too late for the reporters) that our Finals win was a testament not to the "Arte" of our team but rather to the "Labore" -- the hours of practice, of long distance running and sprints and drills and scrimmaging that 20 players and two coaches endured since the first week of August. It was that work that put us in a position to withstand the elements, as well as overcome the emotions that went with the realization that it was our final weekend as this team, to finish the deal. And that's exactly what we did.

We played in difficult conditions both days -- cold and rain and snow and sleet and sloppy goal boxes and bumpy fields. While it's true that the conditions were the same for both teams, let's face it: weather and field conditions can be an equalizer for the less-skilled team. Add in the fact that we played the second half of the Final with three players sitting on the bench with injuries, including arguably the best player (and in my opinion certainly the best forward) in the state who was sidelined with a hamstring pull, one could certainly believe that we overcame some significant obstacles to win and win convincingly at that.

If I had it to do over again, I would make sure to mention that good teams can win in different ways, that we had discovered all of those different ways in the course of the season, and that "winning ugly" can have its own value. But I'd still probably say that I wouldn't have minded seeing a few more passes to the players with the same colored shirts. Hard work only gets you so far when you're an aesthetic person. Or a grouch.

Tom Brady and Me

Every year at during the first week of practice our team talks about our goals for the upcoming season. I sit down with each of the players individually to discuss what they hope to accomplish, personally and as a team, during the year, and then at the end of that week we set our goals as a team for the season.

I don't like to reveal what our goals are to the outside, mostly because each of the last two season we've set some pretty lofty standards for ourselves that would either make us appear overconfident or provide bulletin-board material for other teams. Sometimes a player will reveal one or more of the goals during an interview (Rachel!) but I don't think it sounds as presumptuous coming from the players as it would from me.

About two years into my "career" as head coach, I set a goal for myself, which I never revealed to anyone until last week -- win 100 games as a head coach. At the time, I figured it would take at least seven years to reach the mark -- an average of 15 wins a season. My first two seasons we had won 14 and 15 games, and so that seemed a reasonable length of time.

Then we won 17 in 2007, and, with the advent of the AA-A playoffs, 19 in 2008.  Suddenly it seemed possible that I might reach the goal in six seasons -- except for the fact that I was toughening our schedule every year as fewer of the AA-A teams we had traditionally played wanted any part of us and I sought more skilled competition to improve and test our team.

After we won 20 games last season, which put my career total at 85, I thought my chances of getting to 100 this season were pretty good. Still, we were scheduled to play all four of last season's AAA semi-finalists in West Virginia, plus last year's Ohio small school champ, plus 10 other West Virginia AAA schools.

Once we went 14-0-1 through our first 15 games, I knew that 100 would be reached, I just wasn't sure when. Our first chance came last Monday night against Parkersburg High School, one of the biggest schools in the state as far as student population goes, and also a successful girls' soccer program, which won the state AAA championship in 2006 and was runner-up in 2007. On paper, we looked to be the better team, but as the cliche goes, they don't play the game on paper.

Fortunately, we scored two goals in the first ten minutes and cruised to a 5-0 win. I enjoyed the achievement, and enjoyed even more my players' genuine excitement in their helping me reach that milestone. For good measure, a Parkersburg television station was there to capture our first two goals, both on lovely passes (one with feet, one with a head) that set them up.

When I got home late that evening, I turned on Monday Night Football only to be told that I was sharing my accomplishment with Tom Brady, who won his 100th game as a starting quarterback that same night against the Dolphins. While admittedly there were a few more cameras around to record Brady's feat than there were mine, given my devotion to Michigan football (which was sorely tested last Saturday I might add) I thought maybe there was a little kismet at work that evening.

Just as Brady owes much of his achievement to the dozens if not hundreds of teammates he's had over his career that helped him reach his goal, so too I was and am mindful of the players, parents, assistant coaches, school administration, and coaching mentors who helped me reach mine. While athletes often say (whether just lip service or not) that they owe their accomplishments to their teammates, there is no doubt that a coach only wins when he is fortunate enough to have players at his or her disposal who are willing to "buy in" to whatever it is you're trying to sell.

And on that count, I have been greatly blessed. It is a milestone that I share with and owe to every one of the young women I have been fortunate enough to coach, something which I will never forget.