gonna be the cornerstone of your culture, everything in this room should be built upon it and match. I'm not saying this stuff isn't cool, but it should be in your home.”
“Does everything have to go?”
“No,” Brian replied. “Some things like the team photos and bowl ring when you played here are great. They're part of your connection to this school. But most of this stuff doesn't connect. That's not why kids'll want to come here. A head coach can't look confused where he is … or where he wants to be.”
“I feel you, Coach,” sighed Marcus. “I'm proud of that stuff and wanted everyone to know about me. But you're right. It's not about me, it's about the culture for them.”
“Correct,” beamed Brian. “And don't forget one more thing about culture….”
“What's that?”
“It isn't just the culture you create for them. Yes, your culture has to be deliberate, but for it to be something they want to belong to, you'll have to create parts of it with them too.”
Marcus scanned the room. “Thanks, Coach. Looks like I've gotta change the color scheme, huh?”
“It's not just the colors you see. Culture begins with the way you see yourself. Until you see yourself as a culture coach more than a former player, you won't coach for culture. Remember, the culture must flow through your veins before it will flow through your team. If you cut your wrist, it should bleed gold and blue.”
Marcus stared at the brick.
“Yeah,” said Brian, “people will measure your program according to the ‘buy-in' of your team. That's a culture paradox, because buy-in never happens without the leader taking ownership first. Ownership's demonstrated by everything you do. Down to the colors of these walls.”
“Geez,” said Marcus. “Would've been easier to stay defensive coordinator.”
“Yes, it would,” Brian replied. “You're gonna learn there's a big difference between playing an instrument and being the conductor. As a player or a defensive coach, you only worried about a couple of positions. Now you must worry about all of them. And don't forget the conductor's got his back to the crowd because it's not about him – it's about them.”
Marcus nodded.
“You're ready to be head coach,” Brian continued. “You're now one of the most important people at this school. Football generates money for the university and other sports, and brings in fans and future students. You'll have more responsibilities, and some of them aren't enjoyable. Everyone besides you will look at things through a straw, only seeing the area for which they're responsible. But the head coach sees everything. Before, as assistant coach, you didn't care as much about team GPA or ticket sales. But now, in addition to coaching, you must build your staff and recruit with media engagements and fundraising thrown in too.”
“Ugh, sounds like a lot of work.”
“That's why the head coach gets the big bucks,” smiled Brian. “Don't forget your job description is summarized with three letters: W-I-N. Regardless of the players you recruit and the coaches you hire, it's harder to win without a confident head coach. That confidence happens when everyone's connected to the culture. Culture, like building a winning football team, doesn't happen overnight. And culture's hard to create – and even harder to change. That's why your first assignment, besides redoing this office, is deciding what to write on that brick!”
“You lost me.” Marcus smiled.
“Some teams call it a motto. Others a mantra or a slogan. I'm sure your past teams had them. But I'm talking about more than a cool quote. I want you to write an easy-to-understand summary of your culture so your team knows what it stands for … and they stand for it.”
“I understand, Coach,” said Marcus. “I have some favorites and was thinking of bringing back Coach Olsen's ‘Hold the Rope' motto. That one always worked.”
“Nah. Sounds like ‘Grandma's ham.'”
“Grandma's ham?” inquired Marcus.
“You'll like this,” Brian began. “One holiday dinner a woman was cooking ham. Before she put it in the oven, she cut off 25% of the ham and threw it away. Her young daughter was watching and asked, ‘Mom, why'd you throw away part of the ham?' Her mother said, ‘That's how your grandma did it and her ham was so good, I cut off the end too.' The little girl said, ‘Grandma's here, so let's ask her.' They asked her grandmother why she removed that portion of the ham. Her grandmother said, ‘That's how my mother did it and her ham was so good, I cut off the end too.' As luck would have it, the little girl's 89-year-old great-grandmother was not only alive, but there too! So the little girl asked her, ‘Nana, can you tell me why cutting off the end of the ham made your ham so good?' And she said, ‘Child, it had nothing to do with making it good. I cut off the end because my oven was so small, it was the only way it would fit!'”
“Another classic,” said Marcus smiling.
“Know this,” replied Brian, “using people's old stuff might not make sense to a new generation. Yes, ‘Hold the Rope' was cool, but that's Grandma's ham. This is your first team. The slogan needs to be yours too.”
“I appreciate that … and it's gonna be more work.”
“It's work that'll do work for you,” replied Brian. “The motto you write on that brick will guide your team. It should direct the team's behavior so you can spend less time ‘policing' and more time building. I want you to create something special.”
“Roger, Coach. I won't let you down.”
“I know you won't, Marcus. You've always been my greatest student. And that's why you can handle one more idea. I've been thinking about what separated my greatest teams from the less successful. It wasn't talent level. Now don't get me wrong – it's difficult to win without talent, and that's why recruiting's important. But some years I won with talented players and some years I lost. In addition to this office and working on the motto, you need to start mixing the cement that'll hold this team together.”
“With all this painting and mixing, I should've gone into construction,” laughed Marcus.
“That's not as crazy as it sounds. Culture is always under construction.” Brian grinned. “Can I explain the cement, or what?”
“Yes, Coach.”
“Good,” smiled Brian. “When I stopped coaching, I started consulting for teams and businesses. As my jobs increased, so did my time on airplanes. Spending so much time on planes got me used to delays, connections, and even airplane food. But one thing that never got easier was turbulence. One flight taught me an important lesson. From the moment I heard, ‘Flight attendants, take your jump seats!' things got ugly. The plane was bouncing so much, I gripped the handrests in fear. I thought I was handling it well, but then I saw a young girl sitting calmly in her seat. About 10 years old. I was amazed by her composure. She stayed more relaxed than anyone on the plane, including a veteran of the skies like myself. We finally passed the storm and eventually landed. I wanted her secret to staying calm. She waited for the passengers to disembark, so I waited too. Then I said, ‘Miss, the way you stayed so calm on the flight was inspiring. What's your secret?' The little girl looked up and said, ‘Sir, there's no secret. My father's the pilot and he said we were going home. I stayed calm because I
