Coach the species, not the sport

"How does the team look this year?"

Years ago, I ran into a coach I played for in high school who was entering his 27th year of coaching.

"I don't know just yet," the coach replied.

"Well, you went pretty deep into the playoffs last year, so things are looking pretty good," I offered.

He thought for a moment.

"Records are deceiving, buddy." He went on, "I won't know how I did as a coach for 10, maybe 15 years. When those young men finish college, start a family, and are productive members of society, then I'll know I did my part well."

I have never forgotten that conversation.

As coaches, we get so caught up in current wins and losses and the season's drama that we forget we are only one season of our student athletes' lives. We get them for a short and critical time in their life, a time where the words we say will echo in their minds for the rest of their lives.

Last year I got a call from a student I coached nine years ago who was in town and wanted to have breakfast with his old youth coach. It reminded me how unique the title "coach" really is.

When I was this boy's (now a man) youth football coach, we lost one game over two years.

How do I know we were successful all those years ago?

Because over breakfast, we talked about his collegiate aspirations and his dreams to be an engineer. He shared why I should be on Snapchat, and I recommended some books he should read. We laughed, shared, and poked fun at one another, and not a word was uttered about all those games we won.

Focus on coaching the species, not the sport.