Consistency
We were getting ready for a workout and one of the athletes asked me, “Hey Coach C why do you always wear the same clothes every day?” It was a good question. My locker was full of different styles, colors, and uses. T-shirts, pullovers, sweatshirts, sweat pants, slacks, shorts, long sleeve shirts … the list goes on. Erik Kennedy, the head of equipment with the Seattle Seahawks, and his hard-working crew, took care of the players and coaches. Anything you wanted, as long as it had the team logo, could be obtained for us.
I looked at the player and said, “What do you think of when you see me?” He pondered on the question for a second and said one word, “Consistency.” I smiled and said “Exactly! I have successfully completed what I set out to do.” He looked at me curiously and said, “What is that?” I said, “I am the same person every day. I don’t let emotion or my clothing make me stand out. I let my coaching be my hallmark. When you walk in here every day you see me, Coach C, Consistency. You don’t have to worry about who I’m going to be today; you don’t have to worry about if I am in a good mood, or a bad mood you know one thing, you are about to go to work to become better at your profession.” He nodded and said, “I got you, Coach C!”
Consistency to me is very important. I remember watching a documentary about Tom Landry, the legendary head football coach for the Dallas Cowboys. In the movie, they asked him about his stoic sideline demeanor. He said he wanted to show the face of consistency, whether they were ahead or behind, he wanted them to take comfort in the fact that he still demanded the same attention to detail. I thought that was an amazing thing to do. I started to work towards that in the last half of my career.
I wish I would have seen that documentary earlier. I was a raving lunatic on the sidelines. I was the coach that was yelling all the time and was standing five yards out on the field. One game, a wide receiver and a defensive back ran behind me as the receiver was doing a sideline route. I would yell at my players because I thought that would motivate them. I was sorely wrong about that. Instead of yelling about the “stupid play”, I should have been teaching the player how to be better. They knew they hadn’t done the right thing already; they didn’t need me to remind them at 1,000 decibels.
