The Score Takes Care of Itself (19 page)

You demonstrate a lack of assuredness when you talk constantly in negatives. When attempting to help someone attain that next level of performance, a supportive approach works better than a constantly negative or downside-focused approach.

I could be very cutting, very sharp in criticizing a player or coach, but I always made an effort to counter it by following up the barbs with more upbeat input immediately afterward. I avoided creating a chain of negatives. Here’s an example.

One Tuesday morning during a preseason workout at our training facility in Santa Clara, California, future Hall of Fame quarterback Steve Young was practicing a crossing pass route with Brent Jones. Steve threw a bad ball. His mechanics weren’t right—in fact, they were sloppy, especially for someone at his high skill level. Young wasn’t focused on what he was doing; instead, he was just going through the motions. This may not sound serious—one pass among many at practice—but it is a cardinal sin in my philosophy.

I was standing directly behind him with my arms across my chest and said sternly, “Lousy! That was laughable, Steve. Damn it, do it again, and this time do it right.” I was very stern, trying to jack up his intensity and get him focused on what he was doing.

The squad reset, and Steve took the snap, dropped back three steps, and threw a second pass—this time with a beautiful and perfect motion, physical artistry that made it a little work of art. I said, “That was good. Stay with that,” and walked away rubbing my hands together. He looked over at me and gave me a thumbs-up. Steve had gotten my message (and the message wasn’t so much about his throwing motion as it was about his concentration). My praise was sparse, but meaningful because it was rarely effusive.

When I criticized or gave feedback to someone, it wasn’t defeatist. It was always focused on the here and now and never conjured up images or incidents of poor play over the previous days or weeks (for example, “Your motion was lousy. That’s why you’ve been throwing interceptions for the last three weeks. How long is it going to take to get it right? I’m getting tired of seeing this over and over.”).

It creates a sense of piling on, of browbeating. When that happens, you lose credibility and respect because the subject of your continuous criticism sees it as a personal attack. Others see it and react the same way. (This is
not
to say I never piled on or wasn’t occasionally guilty of browbeating.)

If you’re growing a garden, you need to pull out the weeds, but flowers will die if
all
you do is pick weeds. They need sunshine and water. People are the same. They need criticism, but they also require positive and substantive language and information and true support to really blossom.

If you’re perceived as a negative person—always picking, pulling, criticizing—you will simply get tuned out by those around you. Your influence, ability to teach, and opportunity to make progress will be diminished and eventually lost. When that happens, you become useless, a hindrance to progress. When your feedback is interpreted as a personal attack rather than a critique with positive intentions, you are going backward.

Constructive criticism is a powerful instrument essential for improving performance. Positive support can be equally productive. Used together by a skilled leader they become the key to maximum results. Most of us seem to be more inclined to offer the negative. I don’t know why, but it’s easier to criticize than to compliment. Find the right mixture for optimum results.

Former Cleveland and Cincinnati head coach Paul Brown taught me a lot during the eight years I worked for him as an assistant coach. Among his many talents was direct communication. He was clear, specific, and comprehensive without an ounce of ambiguity. I like his approach and recommend the same for you. Here’s an example of how he insured that everyone was on the same page.

On the first day of each season’s training camp, Brown would give a lecture to the squad that covered his own Standard of Performance—what he expected (demanded) in all areas. Of course, a leader’s personal example is perhaps the most powerful teaching tool, but words have their own power and specificity.

Brown would start each season with the phrase, “Gentlemen, let’s set the record straight,” and then proceed to do exactly that. Step by step by step, specific after specific, he would cover every aspect of being on the Cincinnati Bengals football team.

He discussed how to wear the uniform, how to dress for meals, how each player was expected to keep his locker in order. He told players how he wanted them to respond to coaching, how to take notes during lectures, how teaching would be done, and what to expect from each assistant coach.

Brown covered such specifics as punctuality, the training-room rules, what would happen when players were waived (this always sent a chill through the group), and the overall environment he intended to create. Furthermore, he shared his policy of treating each player—stars, backups, veterans, rookies, free agents—equally, with the same high level of respect and dignity.

Each year his lecture, and this was only a sampling of topics, lasted about four hours (and voluminous printed material supplemented the lecture). Paul Brown was thorough enough that when the Bengals personnel left the meeting room they knew precisely what they were supposed to do in the coming weeks and that their head coach expected them to enthusiastically adhere to every procedure, policy, and timetable he had specified.

Needless to say, he continued with this kind of direct and clear communication in the months that followed—in practice, during games, and elsewhere.

What he laid out was measurable. And he measured it on a regular basis—his version of your company’s year-end review. (You will note that I included some of Brown’s material in my own Standard of Performance and expanded greatly on it. Like Paul Brown, I attempted to be clear, specific, and direct in putting forth my own requirements concerning actions and attitude.)

Vince Lombardi had a similar appreciation for the benefits of direct—specific—communication. Supposedly, he started each season’s training camp by assembling the team and announcing, as he held it over his head, “Gentlemen,
this
is a football.” That’s how Vince began his introduction of the fundamentals of his particular system, with clear communication. Both Brown and Lombardi understood the necessity of spelling out in detail what you expect from employees and doing it in a manner that is unambiguous and comprehensive.

It is an important element in why these great coaches succeeded. Employees can thrive in an environment where they know
exactly
what is expected of them—even when those expectations are very high.

When it comes to telling people what you expect from them, don’t be subtle, don’t be coy, don’t be vague. What is your version of, “Gentlemen,
this
is a football”?

There’s another story about Vince Lombardi worth mentioning because it points out a high-priority responsibility of any leader. During a game in which his Green Bay Packers were giving up one gain after another, as the opponent marched down the field, he screamed out at his defensive players, “Grabbin’, grabbin’, grabbin’! Nobody’s tackling!!! What the hell is going on out there?”

Lombardi could see that his defensive players were not getting it done, were not really doing the hard job of
tackling
runners. He let them know that “grabbin’ ” was not their job description and simply going through the motions was going to get them beat.

A leader must know when his team is making a lot of noise signifying nothing. UCLA’s coach John Wooden summed it up like this: “Don’t mistake activity for achievement.” (John Wooden,
Wooden on Leadership
.) Lombardi was more graphic in his language but was addressing the same issue.

In an earlier time, leadership—most visibly in sports, but also commonly in business—required no greater people skills than those of a blunt-force object. Ohio State’s Woody Hayes, Alabama’s Bear Bryant, and Green Bay’s Vince Lombardi all enjoyed their image as hard taskmasters whose primary people skills appeared to be intimidation and humiliation.

Henry Jordan, one of Vince’s top players, reportedly said, only partially in jest, “When Coach Lombardi says, ‘Sit down,’ I don’t look for a chair.” (When asked if Lombardi gave his stars special treatment, Jordan replied, “No. He treats us all the same—like dogs.”) Leadership in sports and business has generally moved away from this forceful, heavy-handed approach, although there are still plenty of examples of it—some very successful, in fact.

While leadership still involves occasionally using a heavy-handed approach—“my way or the highway”—collaboration is required more than ever these days to obtain optimal results. These results only occur when you are able to bring out the full potential of your personnel. Quality collaboration is only possible in the presence of quality communication; that is, the free-flowing and robust exchange of information, ideas, and opinions. And “having big ears”—the skill of being a great listener—is the first law of good communication. (The second law is “When you’re not listening, ask good questions.”)

For me it meant I had to set aside certain aspects of my own ego—e.g., talking too much—and really listen to what talented individuals in the organization had to say. I had to learn that communication is not a one-way street; it’s a two-way, three-way, every-way street. This is a challenge for some of us to put into practice, because it’s usually a hell of a lot easier to tell somebody what to do than to listen to his or her suggestions and ideas (especially when you think that you have all the answers on a wide range of subjects).

As a group, I wanted each of us to be as interested in finding out what others thought as in telling others what
we
thought. (Of course, I also didn’t want a staff made up of talented people who just sat there
listening
all the time.)

At 49er staff meetings everyone understood they were expected to participate, communicate, and collaborate, to be part of the discussion regardless of the topic being addressed. I would go around the conference table seeking input from each coach, scout, and executive. If someone said, “That’s not something I’m familiar with, Bill,” I told them firmly, “Talk to somebody who can get you familiar with it.” (Among other things, this had the added advantage of keeping everyone on their toes and tuned in. They never knew when I would solicit their opinion on something.)

An individual doesn’t need to be an expert to ask an intelligent question or offer useful insights. A sentence beginning with the words “This may sound dumb, but . . .” can be the start of a fruitful discussion if you’ve hired talented and intelligent people. The person most familiar with a topic—you, for example—can get myopic, in need of an outside perspective.

I also knew that fear of being shunted aside or told, “That’s a stupid question,” keeps valid questions from being asked. Rarely was anyone working with me derided for their inquiries or opinions. (Of course, by hiring smart people I eliminated the vast majority of dumb questions.)

Nor did I ever want staff members or others to have cause to say, “Hey, nobody listens to me,” just because their idea or suggestion wasn’t used. Communication means people will disagree—strongly at times—but they must understand that disagreement should not fester. “Get a cup of coffee, put your arm around the shoulder of the person you’re bumping heads with, and say, ‘Let’s talk about this,’ ” was my directive. “You’re not always right, nor is the other person. Sometimes you’re both wrong. Sometimes there are three sides to a coin.” I wanted to work with people smart enough to have independent thinking but strong enough to change their opinion when evidence or logic suggested it.

Communication is complex. It’s not just the King’s English. Body language, gender connection, age connection, role connection, affluence and wealth connection, receiving or taking directions, and the state of mind of one person or another are all elements in communicating with someone.

It’s not just being able to talk back and forth. It’s recognizing when to say it, how to say it, when to listen, whom you’re talking with, how they feel, what you’re trying to get down to, how important the circumstance is, what the necessity is timewise, and how rapidly the decision must be made.

These are complex skills you must possess as part of your own basic Standard of Performance that is part of your leadership inventory. While a healthy ego is crucial in leadership, it turns unhealthy when self-confidence becomes arrogance, assertiveness becomes obstinacy, and self-assurance becomes reckless abandon. This is manifested when communication from leadership amounts to “Shut up and listen”—when your ego gets bigger than your ears.

Ironically, a big display of ego is sometimes hiding insecurity or lack of confidence. That kind of individual is overly protective of his or her turf or attempting to establish position in the pecking order by making others conform to his or her wishes. This, of course, reduces or removes creative vitality and collaboration.

If you are uncomfortable walking around your team’s workplace, awkward and out of place, you are a disconnected leader—not really part of the team. Sitting in your office with the door closed and issuing edicts from on high is not communication, and is certainly not collaborative leadership.

You should be willing to go to someone’s office or desk and help him or her do his or her job. You want to be able to facilitate what people are doing when necessary. The 49ers coaching staff—including me—was not hidden away like a secret cabal that was seen only occasionally. Among many other things, at least once a week each coach spent his lunch hour in the locker room with the team. Eating a tuna fish sandwich and drinking a Pepsi next to players was an unassuming way to break down barriers and facilitate organizational familiarity, which facilitates better interaction. Your can also learn a lot while eating your sandwich.