What Would John Wooden Do?

I just heard the most amazing story, courtesy of a friend whose son played in a youth-league baseball playoff game last night.

The opposing team's coach disputed a call and went all Paulie Walnuts on the official -- swearing, cussing, spitting, generally carrying on like a escaped mental patient. Understandably, the umpire threatened to eject the dude, which just further infuriated the neanderthal in question, who then amped up his tirade. Finally, the umpire said, "Look, I am going to count to 10. If you haven't settled down by then, I'm calling this game. It's over."

Needless to say, the jack ass never settled down, the ump called the game and awarded it to the other team (which was up on the scoreboard anyway). A freaking near riot occurred. Grown ups, I mean. Parents reacting as though somebody had beaten their children with tire irons. Over a game.

Remember when people started wearing those "WWJD" (What Would Jesus Do) bracelets? I have a saying, a simple rule for coaching. It applies to any sport, at any level.

What would John Wooden Do?

Wooden coached because he loved the sport and he loved competition, but also and probably to a larger extent, he did it because he loved working with people. He loved being a part of the process. There were always new lessons to learn about teamwork, about perseverance, about determination. There were even lessons to be learned from failure.

I've read snippets of things written by a psychologist named Harriet Lerner. (Yeah, I know, self-helpy stuff just isn't usually my thing.) But Lerner wrote a great book called, "Fear and Other Uninvited Guests." In it, she relays a story about a guy she helped to learn how to be rejected. Sounds weird, right, but he was afraid of doing something - for fear of being rejected, - so she set him the task of going out to actively seek rejection in a different way.

He learned that the idea of rejection, the notion of it, was way worse than the actual reality of rejection. Once he learns that on a visceral level, he's able to take risks -- risks that involve possible rejection -- in a way that he hadn't been before. Mission accomplished.

And I think playing sports serves that function, too. Losing can serve a purpose, in terms of personal growth and growth in relation to the team. Losing can teach those same life lessons that Lerner was after - to not be afraid to jump in the deep end, to takes risks, to keep fighting even when it's hopeless sometimes.

Wooden understood that. Ironically, his teams won because of it.

It's youth sports people. It's supposed to be fun. The kids are supposed to learn about team work, about winning with class, and losing with dignity. Just remember: WWJWD?

The Death of the Greatest Coach Ever

From True/Slant on June 5, 2010:


Remembering John Wooden.

Sports fans love to make lists. Top 10 best World Series Match Ups, Top 10 worst basketball teams, Top 5 Best NFL Quarterbacks, and on and on and on. I myself love to do it. There are multiple Top 10 lists at Fan Overboard.

But the thing about making a list of the best coaches, in any sport, is that everybody agrees on the number 1 spot. The argument usually goes,

“Okay, best coaches,” I say.
“All-time?” says my buddy.
“Yes. All-time. Any sport.”
“College and pro?”
“Yes. Any sport, both college and pro,” I clarify.
“Right, so the number one spot is John Wooden. Who do you list as two?”

And we move on there, arguing about spots 2 through 10, because there is no argument, no sports fan living or dead, professional writer or barstool expert who would argue Wooden’s place at the top. There’s John Wooden. And then there’s everybody else.

Here are just a few highlights of his incomparable career:

Beginning in the 1971 season and ending in 1974, UCLA won 88 straight games. It is an NCAA record that may stand forever.

Wooden’s UCLA teams went 30-0 in a season four times.

They won 19 PAC-10 conference championships.

Wooden Bruins teams won 10 NCAA titles in his last dozen seasons.

They won seven straight national championships (from 1967-73.)

For those who knew him best, he will be missed — losing a friend like Wooden must be an awful loss.

I always felt like Wooden would live forever, that the cameras would pan the stands at a UCLA basketball game in 2020 or 2030 and there he would be, faithfully watching over the program. Though he will not be courtside, Wooden will be remembered forever. He will be remembered for his winning records and his championships, of course. But he will mostly be remembered for his spirit, his view of the game that extended so much further than a basketball gym. He instilled beliefs into his players that turned boys into men, and turned those men into a team. We would all be a little better off to remember the foundation of Wooden’s philosophy – to focus on doing your very best, giving your very best to any endeavor you undertake.

Thanks, coach.