Beyond Basketball Page 5

  As an individual at West Point, I experienced my first failure when I did not pass my fall semester physical education requirement. For an all-state basketball player and someone who was considered a better than average athlete, this was the ultimate failure. The two PE courses I had that semester were swimming and gymnastics. I knew from the beginning that this would be problematic. I did not know how to swim and I had never tried gymnastics, nor any athletic endeavor that required flexibility. Everything was completely foreign to me. Though I was able to pass gymnastics by a very slim margin, I failed the swimming class and had to join a remedial swimming course until I passed the survival swimming test. The test consisted of being handed a ten-pound brick and being told to swim as far as I could, with the brick, in a seven-foot-deep pool. After I pushed away from the side, the brick went to the bottom of the pool and so did I. It was not surprising that my grade sunk as well.

  The inability to pass this test the first time around and the resulting failing grade in physical education forced me to take a test with a number of other cadets to prove that I was physically capable of staying at the Academy. That test did not include swimming or gymnastics and I was able to pass with flying colors. Failing initially, but working hard to learn enough about swimming to pass the swimming test as well led me to understand that I could eventually do things that I had never done before.

  My failures at the Academy were not limited to individual endeavors; I met with group failure as well. As freshmen, our platoon was asked at times to change from one uniform to another in a very short period of time. We would be told to dismiss from a formation, go back to our rooms, change to a different uniform, and be back in the same formation within three minutes. To me, this was impossible. The first time around, everyone panicked and tried to accomplish this feat completely on their own. I remember my two roommates and I ran into each other, pushed one another, and all of us were late in coming back out to formation. The upperclassman in charge of the formation asked us why we were late. The only permissible answer was, “No excuse, sir.”

  “That’s right. There is no excuse,” he said. “All of you should be out here on time.” The next time we were put in this situation, one of my roommates miraculously made it out in time, but my other roommate and I were late. The upperclassman then yelled at all three of us, saying, “Either all of you are going to be late or you will all be on time.” After many such situations, we made the realization that we would need to employ teamwork to be ready in time. When we worked together to be ready, we finally all made it on time to the formation. In that situation, failure forced us to find a way to help one another succeed.

  Changing limits is not easy. If it was, everyone would do it without a second thought. One of the biggest lessons I have learned in my life is that failure is a natural result of breaking out of your comfort zone. At West Point, I learned to view each failure not as its own entity but as a stepping-stone on a path to something greater. It was never a destination, but I had to pass through failure to be successful at what I was attempting to do. In order to change what you believe to be your limits, you have to try new things or raise your old limits to a new level.

  I had to recall this lesson throughout my life and career because, like most people, I have failed time and time again. I can remember my third season at Duke. The group of freshmen I had that year was one of my top recruiting classes in all my years of coaching: Mark Alarie, Jay Bilas, Johnny Dawkins, David Henderson, and Weldon Williams. We had an incredible amount of talent that year but not much experience. When we ended the season with 11 wins and 17 losses, I had to teach my team that what happened was part of a process. We used that season as a learning experience and were able to look to the future: a future that we all expected would be bright. As Johnny Dawkins put it twenty years later, “We knew we were better than that, but that is where our journey began.”

  And because we saw that 1982–83 season as a stepping-stone on the way to something greater, the rest of our journey was incredible. The next three seasons, we had an 84–21 record, and in 1986 we won 37 games, which is still the most ever won by a college basketball team in a single season.

  No one can be perfect. When you break out of your comfort zone and try new things, you will probably experience some form of failure. Failure cannot be your final destination; rather, you can use it to shatter limits. It is merely a stepping-stone on your journey to greatness.

  Family

  No matter how involved you are in what you do, no matter how many hours a week you devote to your career pursuits, you must always remember that your family is your primary team.

  Most likely due to the fact that I have been a basketball coach for so many years, my family has always thought of itself as parallel to a basketball team. Our nucleus includes five people: myself, my wife, and our three daughters, like the five players on the basketball court at any given time. While each of us has a life and interests that are our own, we gather strength from that nucleus. We’re in this together.

  Over the years, each of our daughters has married and we have been blessed with five grandchildren, who call me “Poppy.” We have never seen it as our children leaving, but rather as expanding our strong core. There come times in our lives when any one of us may need to “circle the wagons.” In other words, when key decisions need to be made, when there is a crisis, when one of us is sick or needs help, we bring our core group together, we try to ignore other influences, and we rely on one another as teammates to develop a collective resolution.

  A huge part of ensuring that your core is strong is allowing the members of your team to be a part of what you do. I always wanted my wife, my girls, and now my sons-in-law and grandchildren to be a part of what I am doing at Duke. They are not merely invited to practices, games, and team trips; I encourage them to be there if they can. I tell them about things I am trying with my team, ask for their advice on any problems, and watch game tapes with them. My girls grew up watching game film and tapes with me in our home, whether it was to analyze our team’s practices and games to see how we could improve, or to scout our upcoming opponents’ strengths and weaknesses. I remember when my girls were young, they would love when a reel of film would be over and there would be a white light shining from the projector onto the wall. For the next few minutes, we would do shadow puppets together. I’m not sure that they liked analyzing the film at that age, but I know they liked the shadow puppets. They were a welcome break for me as well.

  Because my family has always felt like a part of Duke Basketball too, it was easier when I had to be away for long periods of time on road trips and recruiting. I never compartmentalized my career and my family. They are both a part of who I am, and being good in one can help tremendously with the other.

  Additionally, when you allow those closest to you to be involved, they will be better able to support you in your times of need. And you have to let them. I remember a specific moment of family support following a tough season-ending loss to Kansas in the 2003 NCAA tournament. After the game, my family joined me in the locker room area, including my two young grandsons, Joey and Michael, who were three and a half and two years old, respectively. As we stood there in the coach’s locker room, with several adults around me, Joey came confidently up to me, tugged gently on my pants leg, looked me in the eye, and said, “Don’t be sad, Poppy. Your boys played really hard.” It brought a smile to my face and set me at ease, and, what’s more, he was right. My boys had played really hard. That’s the kind of support you can get from your family, even a three-year-old member of that family, if you can allow them to be a part of your entire life.

  While allowing my daughters to be a part of my career, my wife was always adamant that there be things devoted strictly to family. In fact, when the girls were growing up, there was nothing related to Duke Basketball put on display in our home: no trophies, photos, or memorabilia. We always believed that a home is about family, so we surrounded our home with family photos and item
s reflecting the accomplishments of our children. Your children must always believe that what they are doing and what you do as a family is the top priority.

  A person is never more comfortable than when they are with their family, which is why I try to create a family atmosphere with my team and encourage people in other businesses to do the same with their employees and organization. When you are with your family, you are yourself, and when you are yourself, you are at your very best.

  FAMILY IN ACTION

  In 1994, we were in Charlotte, North Carolina, where Duke was playing in the Final Four. We were set to play the University of Florida in the Saturday night game in order to advance to the National Championship game. My middle daughter, Lindy, was still in high school and was going to finish out the school week before joining us for the games that weekend. One afternoon after school, she had gone to a local shopping center to run some errands. As she was getting out of her car, she was carjacked by a man with a gun. Luckily, Lindy was not injured and was able to get away and run to a police substation in the mall. Needless to say, it was a frightening incident, especially for a seventeen-year-old kid whose parents were out of town!

  We asked Assistant Coach Tommy Amaker’s wife, Stephanie, a successful area psychologist, and a part of our extended Duke Basketball family, to bring Lindy to Charlotte right away. After hugging her and telling her how happy we were that she was safe, my wife and I sat down with her and began to ask her a barrage of questions. How are you feeling? What did he say to you? Did you see the weapon? How did you get away? Did you see his face?

  After answering a lot of questions, Lindy became exhausted, and, in reality, she was also beginning to move on from that moment and feel excited to be at the Final Four. Even so, my wife asked her, “What was he wearing?”

  “A black shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap.”

  “Was there anything on the cap?” I asked.

  With a look of exasperation and an obvious desire to move past the topic, Lindy looked me in the eye and said, “Yeah . . . Florida!”

  While his hat, obviously, did not really say Florida, this was Lindy’s way of telling me that she appreciated our concern but, enough about her, it was time for me to focus on why we were there: on beating Florida. What an amazing gesture of support from my daughter. While still concerned for her well-being, I could focus on the task at hand, knowing that I had her full support. We beat Florida and had the opportunity to play in the National Championship game. That kind of support is what family is all about.

  Friendship

  There is nothing more valuable than a true friend. They remind you of who you were, who you are now, and who you are going to be. They keep you both grounded and going in the right direction. Sometimes listening to a friend is like listening to yourself. They can be your conscience and your memory.

  My very best friend is named Dennis Mlynski, but I have always called him “Moe” since we were boys growing up in Chicago. And to him and my other boyhood buddies, I will always be “Mick.” He has been one of my greatest supporters throughout my life and career. Moe is the gold standard of friends. He is a better friend to me than I am to anyone, and I consider myself a good friend.

  Every success that I have ever felt, Moe has felt it too. Every failure I have experienced, he has put into perspective for me. He has been there every step of my journey, and I have been there for his. We have never been alone because we always know we have each other.

  Specifically, this past year, after our season-ending loss to Louisiana State University in the Sweet Sixteen, Moe came to my hotel room along with my family. Long after everyone else had gone to bed, Moe, my wife, Mickie, and I were still talking. At the end of every season, I struggle with what I could have done differently, how I could have done better, and I reevaluate where I am in my life and career.

  Feeling as down as I could be, I found myself wondering if coaching was still what I wanted to be doing, contemplating what was next for me. “Mick,” Moe said to me, and even just hearing the name from my youth brought me back to earth. “You have always loved to lead.” He put it so simply that I couldn’t help but realize that he was right. I started that evening feeling down and wondering if I wanted to continue coaching. Thanks to Moe and his friendship, we ended our conversation at 5:30 in the morning with my being incredibly excited about the next season. That is what a friend does. He or she will listen to your ramblings, and because they know you so well and you can trust them to be honest and genuine, they help you clarify those ramblings.

  As you grow and change, your true friends become friends to your family as well. I learned from my son-in-law about how Moe’s friendship transcends generations. Chris Spatola, who is married to my youngest daughter, was an Army captain on a yearlong tour in Baghdad, Iraq. He told me that he had received several packages from Moe, including some long and wonderful letters. Chris, like me, had played basketball for the United States Military Academy at West Point. Moe also included in his packages to Chris several game programs and newspaper clippings about me and my teams from when I played at West Point. I couldn’t believe it. Not only had Moe been there for so many of those games, not only had he saved those programs and clippings for more than thirty-five years, but he thought enough about me and my family to know that Chris would appreciate those things. My family feels lucky that Moe has become a part of their lives too.

  True friends are with you for life, they remind you of the things that you need to know at the points in your life when you need to know them most. They care for you and try to clarify things for you during difficult times. And, most amazingly, friends like Moe never ask for anything in return. In life, there are not many absolutes, but when you have a great friend, that is an absolute. And Moe is absolutely the best friend in the world.

  Fundamentals

  When you have been in a particular business for a long time or, for me, when you have been through a long season of basketball, you can find yourself getting caught up in the complexities of what you are doing and forget about the fundamentals. It is important to remind yourself and your team of the essential building blocks of the game and to ensure that you continue to practice and improve on these. These building blocks are like the soil from which your skills grow. Practice will help keep that soil fertile.

  At a dinner in the beautiful Wynn Las Vegas resort, I was reminded of the importance of fundamentals by a most unexpected source. My friend Steve Wynn, who, along with his wife, Elaine, has built some of the most phenomenal resorts in the world, told me the profoundly simple concept behind their most recent masterpiece.

  He told me that when approaching the building of his new hotel and casino, the first to bear the Wynn name, he just went back to the basics. After building such amazing places such as the Mirage and Bellagio, it had become clear to him that there was little “new” he could do in the hotel business.

  Instead, Steve returned to the fundamentals. The guiding thought behind the building of the Wynn resort was, as Steve put it, “doing the basics, better.” Steve and Elaine spent the next several years doing a multitude of basics better, such as ensuring that the sheets were of the best quality, that each room be a manageable distance from the elevators, and that each area of the hotel had a pleasant and welcoming scent. And, having been a guest at the Wynn, I can assure you that the basics there are absolutely the best.

  It is the same in basketball, or in any business. I sometimes find myself devising complicated schemes, trying to be more creative. Because I have been coaching for so many years, I sometimes forget that a team, even a veteran team, needs a solid foundation. Steve Wynn is right, I need to remind myself that you can be the best in the business by merely doing the basics, better.

  To help turn fundamentals into habit requires intensive, intelligent, and repetitive action. If any one of these elements is missing, something will be missing from the foundation of your team. This is why, in every practice, even late in the season, I always have my team contin
ue to work on fundamental drills. It is vital that the athletes actually drill these basics. I constantly remind myself of the most basic formula of teaching: you hear, you forget; you see, you remember; you do, you understand. And when you truly understand, that is when the basics become habitual.

  Every summer, we host a basketball camp at Duke for youngsters ages eight to eighteen who come from all over the world to learn from me and my staff how we do the fundamentals. One of the campers’ mothers came up to me at registration and told me that her son would be attending two of the three sessions. I thought to myself, “This is great, she really understands the importance of learning how to drill the fundamentals.” But then she asked me what her son would be doing differently in his second week of camp. I explained to her that the second week would be more of the same. There would be different coaches and different competition, but the focus would continue to be on the basics of basketball. I explained to her about fundamentals becoming habits and how the drills we do in camp are a step toward that. What’s more, I told her that her son would be in even better shape if he continued to work on the drills when he returned home after his two weeks at camp. If you want to strive for excellence, you must embrace continual work on fundamentals.

  I think it’s amazing that everyone—from a young kid going to summer camp to someone as successful as Steve Wynn—can always remember that with intensive, intelligent, and repetitive work, we can all do the basics, better.

  Giving Back

  It is not all about winning games. There are much greater battles to fight. As I have grown older and experienced some success, I have learned that when you use your success to have a positive impact in these other battles, it adds depth to your life. Having a positive influence on people, helping others: that’s winning.