What we learned in 2012

Men, it was a tough loss last night, but I want you to know how proud we are of your effort.

By taking a lead into the fourth quarter, you proved that we can play 5A football.  We proved that we can play disciplined offense, and we proved that we can fly around and hit people on defense.

Above all, we proved that we have learned to give our very best in the face of adversity.

It was my great pleasure to spend afternoons with you this season.  I hope you will stay in touch here.

I am proud of all of you.

The (real) problem with low expectations

We have players who are afraid to commit themselves to excellence on the football field.  A large number of you slouch and mope around with no energy.  There is no spring in your step.  You are often afraid of contact.  You invest NO time to learn our offense outside of practice.  Even when you or another player makes a big hit, you don’t get excited.  You can give NO energy in a drill or a team period, then you can come together and yell “pride”.  Frankly, it’s hard for your coaches to understand.

In football, the danger is that we may pretend to compete, but we may be in danger of losing a large number of football games.  That would be demoralizing…a real bummer, you might say.

But there is something much bigger at stake.

I have learned an important principle from Andy Stanley, my pastor.  He says, “you can’t compartmentalize character.”  And he is right.

The way you handle yourself in football is the way you are (and will) handle yourself in life.  If you allow yourself to give a portion of yourself to what you are doing (whatever you are doing), you will allow yourself the same ‘luxury’ in every area of your life.

This works positively as well.  Do you think it is random that Chart Riggall knows the offense plays well, and he is also a very good student?  It’s what we would expect.  Why?  Because you can’t compartmentalize character.  He is in the habit of 1) knowing what to do, and 2) giving maximum effort.

What’s at stake in football is losing games.  Over the course of your lifetime, these games are completely inconsequential.

But, what’s at stake in your life is everything.  Those with low expectations for themselves and for the organizations of which they are a part…in the real world…live on the brink of poverty, if not actually in poverty.  The world outside of your parent’s home is cruel to those who do not KNOW.  It is heavy on those who do not GIVE MAX EFFORT.  And it is lonely for those who do not COMMIT TO A CAUSE THAT IS BIGGER THAN JUST YOU.

The real problem with low expectation is that they become easier to accept, and the accepting will lead you down the path of financial and relational poverty.

Chose a cause you can be passionate about and demand a great deal from yourself and from those who share your passion.  Let me suggest that you should commit yourself fully to your faith, your family, your friends, and your football team.  There is tremendous joy in giving your all to a noble cause.

Why are you afraid to give your very best?  What is worse…meeting a low expectation? Or barely missing a target that is sky-high?  What prevents you from experiencing the joy that is trying your very best doing something you love?  What options might open up for you if it was your habit to give your best in football?  Your best in the classroom?  Your best in your relationship with your parents?  How might your life be better?


Five basic responses: Part 1

I spent 4 years beside the Chesapeake Bay at the U.S. Naval Academy.  It was an incredible experience that I treasure.

It started on July 3, 1994….plebe summer.  I hugged my Dad, kissed my Mom, and checked in to Bancroft Hall at 7:30am.  By 7:31, some upperclassman was in my face explaining how I was to communicate for the next 10 months.

He barked (use your best drill sergeant voice), “You are allowed to give five responses.  When asked a question or given direction, you will answer with 1) the correct answer, 2) ‘yes, Sir’ or ‘no, Sir’, 3) ‘I’ll find out, Sir’, 4) ‘No excuse, Sir’, or 5) ‘aye, aye, Sir’.” (In your world, aye,aye roughly translates to “yes, Coach, I’ll do it”)

Seems harsh, does it not?

I had a tough time with this…at first.  After a few run-ins with upperclassmen who “encouraged” me to do flutter kicks until I puked, I got pretty good at these responses.

The toughest one, by far, was #4: No excuse, Sir.  We would do “uniform changes” in a drill where we had to change from wearing workout clothes to a full dress uniform in 2 minutes.  Of course, we’d fail.  Then, they would completely trash our rooms…toss our perfectly folded socks all over the place, then give us 5 minutes to prepare for an inspection.  We’d fail.  They forced us to memorize a poem with 30+ stanzas.  We’d fail tongue-tied.  They’d make us run a 1/2 mile obstacle course in 3 minutes.  We’d fail breathless.  They’d ask, “Kirby, what’s wrong with you…why didn’t you finish on time????”  “No excuse, Sir.”

What I know now is that there is something incredibly admirable about a man who has a “no excuses” attitude.  Your parents love it.  Women (your future wives) are attracted to a man who lives that way.  Employers love it.  Teachers love it.  And coaches love it.

When you say, “no excuse, Sir”, you are acknowledging that you are responsible for your actions and not someone else.  You are giving your parent/teacher/coach the respect he or she deserves by NOT wasting their time with a worthless explanation.  You are getting your mind focused on what it takes, next time, to get it right.

In truth, plebe summer was designed so that we would fail.  Some days, football is that way too.  We want you to become humble men who know what it means to carry responsibility for yourself, for your wives, for your families…your teammates.

Sure, there are days when things go poorly, and it really is not your fault.  Boys feel the need to explain themselves because they need others to know that we are not to blame.  Men who have developed strong moral character and disciplined habits usually don’t feel the need to explain themselves.  They let their yes mean yes, and their no mean no.  Let’s be that kind of man.

The next time you drop a pass, miss a block, forget an assignment, show up late, forget your shoes, wear a hat indoors…be a man who accepts responsibility.  Just say, “no excuse, Mom/Dad/Teacher/Coach…I’ll get it done next time.”  Then do what it takes to get it done.

What is that feeling that boils inside you when you have to say, “no excuse, Coach”?  What would have to happen in you to make it easier to say?  How could you avoid having to say it?