Beyond Basketball Read online

  When I hear the word “respect,” I think of treating everyone the same.

  I had the great privilege of being an assistant on the 1992 Olympic team, known as the “Dream Team.” It consisted of some of the greatest players of all time, such as Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, and Larry Bird. As a part of that team, I learned a lot about the game, but I also relearned a lesson about respect.

  After a team practice, I stood by myself on the sidelines drinking a Diet Coke. Michael Jordan walked over to me and said, “Coach K, I would like to do about a half hour of individual work and I was wondering if you could please work with me.” So there I was, faced with a very difficult decision: working with the greatest basketball player of all time or continuing to drink my Diet Coke. I think I made the right decision.

  After our workout, Michael shook my hand and said, “Thanks, Coach.”

  Michael Jordan had just called me “Coach,” and he had said “please” and “thank you.” This was at a time when he was at the very top of his game and was one of the most recognizable faces not only in sport but throughout the world. Michael Jordan had earned global recognition as a symbol of excellence. That day, I learned that everyone on Michael Jordan’s team is treated with respect.

  I have said many times that my mother was the greatest person in my life. She had an eighth-grade education and cleaned floors at the Chicago Athletic Club for a living. So I had the benefit of learning at an early age that some of the greatest people in the world clean floors for a living. When you value everyone and treat everyone with respect, you may just be amazed at how they can make you better.

  One of my very best friends at Duke was a custodian named D.C. Williams. He and I had a tremendous relationship. Many people think that I was merely being kind talking to D.C. and spending time with him, when in reality I valued his friendship and advice as much as anyone in my life.

  D.C. was responsible for the cleanliness and upkeep of our locker room area at Duke. But in addition to taking care of his responsibilities, he maintained a spirit that permeated through everyone in our program. You knew when D.C. was around because there would be gospel music playing and he would be diligently at work with his ever-positive attitude.

  D.C. did his job with obvious pride. Because his standards were so high for his own work, it raised everyone else’s standards as well. Our players wouldn’t want to drop something on the floor knowing that D.C. would have to pick it up. D.C. helped to create an atmosphere conducive to success, one with the bar set high and drenched in pride.

  During his eighteen years at Duke, it was D.C.’s locker room, not Coach K’s locker room, or Grant Hill’s locker room, or Shane Battier’s locker room. D.C. took ownership and everyone benefited as a result. Often he would offer insight into the mood of the team or a particular player based on his observations. “Coach, something is not right with Nate,” or “I think the team is really down this week.” I would always listen. And he was always right.

  We have had a great winning percentage on our home court during the past couple of decades. When I walk off the court at the completion of each home game, I do not stop to talk or shake hands with anyone; I am focused on getting to my team in the locker room. But after every home game for eighteen years, the person that I did shake hands with was D.C. He was always in the same spot waiting for me. Win or lose, D.C. was my true friend. And, like any true friend, he made me better.

  I spoke at D.C.’s funeral in 2005 and had the privilege of meeting some of his family and friends. I was told over and over about how proud D.C. was to be a part of Duke. Additionally, I was instantly validated in the eyes of everyone there, because D.C. had had respect for me as well. Imagine all we would have missed out on if we had not initially shown respect for one another.

  Too often, people will miss out on meaningful relationships with amazing people because they quickly pass judgment based on what that person does for a living, the clothes they wear, what kind of car they drive. D.C. Williams was a great man. I miss him terribly. But I was lucky to have known him and to have benefited from our eighteen-year friendship. I would never have received all of those benefits had I not initially treated him with respect and understood how important it is to value everyone. The simple act of showing respect can allow you to meet people like D.C. Williams, to let them come into your life, and to make you a better person.

  Selflessness

  Selflessness means that you will do what is best for the team. Jimmy Valvano once told me, “A person does not become whole until he or she becomes a part of something bigger than himself or herself.” It is the best and most simple description of being a member of a team and its rewards that I have ever heard.

  Being a part of something bigger than yourself requires selflessness and an understanding that there will be personal sacrifice for the good of the team. And most people desire to be a part of something bigger and to feel as if their actions are for the greater good.

  Non-scholarship players, known as “walk-ons,” have always been an important part of our program, serving as an ideal illustration of selflessness. They receive minimal playing time and virtually no media attention but are expected to work just as hard as any All-America. One of the greatest walk-on stories of my career came in the 2004–05 season after back-to-back losses to Maryland and Virginia Tech. I was furious with my starters and a statement needed to be made.

  In a brief meeting following those losses, I announced to our team that those who had exhibited the best work ethic would be rewarded with starting positions against our upcoming opponent, Wake Forest. My staff and I thought it would be a key moment in our season, a turning point, and that it would send a message to the entire team. But what happened, thanks to the selflessness of former team manager and junior walk-on Ross Perkins, turned what we thought would be a good moment into a great one.

  At our next practice, I put the names of four of our five starters on the board; they were all walk-ons. I then told my team that whoever played the hardest in practice that day would be given the fifth spot. At the end of practice, the lineup was set: four walk-ons and J.J. Redick.

  A walk-on can expect to see only a few minutes of playing time throughout the course of a season, and so for a walk-on to start in a conference game has the potential to be one of the greatest days of that individual’s life. After our lineup announcement, Ross Perkins asked if he could come by my office and speak with me privately. “Of course,” I replied.

  When Ross came in twenty minutes later, we sat down and began a great discussion. “Coach,” Ross said, “when you put my name on that board, it was the proudest moment of my life.”

  “Ross, you deserve it. You are going to start against Wake Forest tomorrow.”

  What happened then changed the course of our season.

  Ross looked me in the eye and said, “Coach, thank you so much for the opportunity and for having confidence in me, but I think it would be better for the team if Shelden starts tomorrow . . .” Here was a kid who truly wanted what was best for the team and was willing to give up what could have been a very memorable personal moment in order for us, together, to be successful. Amazing!

  I was completely taken aback. Now the moment was no longer about my disappointment in our team’s play for the past two games. Now it was about the incredible selflessness of this kid and his sacrifice of individual glory for the good of the team. Ross’s actions remind us all of what it means to be a part of something bigger than you, and I will talk about Ross Perkins and his selflessness for the rest of my career.

  Shelden did start against Wake Forest and we were victorious in what was a tightly fought game. Ross was the first player I went to hug afterward. Ironically, he never played a second in that game, but his selflessness is the reason we won.

  Standards

  Standards: a level of excellence that we consider our norm.

  After a particularly frustrating conference road loss in 2004, our second in a row, my team and I were r
iding back to Durham on our team bus. Typically after a loss, I have some idea of the next steps that our team needs to take. I often have a direction in mind—maybe not a solution, but at least a direction. For the first two and a half hours of the three-hour bus trip, I went through many options in my mind regarding the appropriate action to take. I finally came to the conclusion that, on this occasion, I was lost.

  I said to my staff, “I have never told you this before and it may be a little scary, but I have no feelings or intuition on this one. My instincts have escaped me.” I looked to my associate head coach and longtime friend, Johnny Dawkins, and told him that I simply did not know what to do. He touched me on the arm and spoke some incredible words.

  “Coach,” he said, in his typical calm but commanding and dependable tone, “it’s all about standards.”

  Johnny was absolutely right. All of a sudden, my coaching instincts came back to me, and, along with my staff, we developed a plan of attack. As the bus stopped at Cameron Indoor Stadium, I asked the team to come to the locker room for a quick meeting. I repeated to them what Johnny had just told me. It is not about losses; it is about standards. We needed to be playing at the level that Duke teams play. We were simply not doing that. As a team, we had allowed our standards to slip. It had become acceptable to not play every defensive possession with the utmost intensity, to allow offensive rebounds, and to play as individuals on offense. We thought that we could do less and still receive the same rewards.

  Standards define what is and is not acceptable for an individual or a team. When you allow your standards to slip, you are saying, “We do not have to be this good all the time,” and as a result your level of success will decrease right alongside your team effort, work ethic, and sense of pride. We made sure that we got back to the standards we had set for ourselves.

  After a very disappointing NCAA tournament loss, a close friend of mine, Steve Delmont, sent me a Jean Giraudoux quote, “Only the mediocre are always at their best.” If your standards are low, it is easy to meet those standards every single day, every single year. But if your standard is to be the best, there will be days when you fall short of that goal. It is okay to not win every game. The only problem would be if you allow a loss or a failure to change your standards. Keep your standards intact, keep the bar set high, and continue to try your very best every day to meet those standards. If you do that, you can always be proud of the work that you do.

  I am lucky to have teammates like Johnny and friends like Steve to remind me that, when it comes down to it, it’s all about standards.

  Talent

  Talent is natural ability. It is important but it isn’t everything.

  A team is a collection of individuals with varying levels of talent. When you talk about talent in the context of a team, you can talk about it both individually and collectively. The more talent you and your team have, the more room for error. I often employ the analogy that talent is really the difference between taking a superhighway and having to take side streets to reach a destination. In other words, if you have a lot of talent, the road is wider, it is easier. You can get to your destination faster if you do it the right way. But even if you do not have a lot of talent, you can still reach your destination. There are more obstacles, and therefore I refer to operating with less talent as taking side streets. The lanes are not as wide. You may have to be more creative and innovative, and it probably will take more time and effort.

  One of the key things to remember about talent is that it has to be developed. When you’ve got it, it’s like having amazing raw materials. But those raw materials do not become anything of substance unless they are honed through hard work and learning. Developing your talents makes you strong. If you only use your raw talent, it can eventually make you weak by allowing you to merely “get by.” You can even lose your talent because it has not been developed. The road can come to an abrupt end.

  The maturing process is a key factor in the development of talent, and education is a major part of becoming a mature adult: education in the classroom, on the court, and in life. That is why school is a great venue for the development of talent. In school, an individual is educated in all facets of life. They are tested in every way. Places like Duke are amazing because you are around excellence all the time, and being around excellence makes you strive to be better.

  Chris Carrawell is a great example of talent development. When he came to Duke from inner-city St. Louis, he was intelligent and very streetwise. In basketball, he was not the most gifted athlete, but he understood the game and how to work with his teammates to produce positive results. He was never the most talented player on my teams at Duke but he used his abilities to fit in with our star players. As a result, he kept getting better. And in his senior year, he was named the ACC Conference Player of the Year, even though he was not as physically gifted as some others in our conference. He traveled on side streets wisely and creatively to reach a destination others in the league could not reach even though they were on superhighways.

  There will be times in basketball when you are matched up against an opponent with considerably less talent than you. For instance, in the first round of the NCAA Tournament, many of college basketball’s best teams are matched up against teams that are simply not as talented. Our goal in those games is not just to win, but to work harder and to outplay that team. What we are trying to do is to keep developing as a basketball team. We are trying to get better so that we do not lose the talents that we have as individuals and as a team.

  Many people are confused when my team has won a game by a large margin and I am still upset and disappointed by our performance. I feel that way because many times we have only won the game because of our talent. If that is the case, then we have not gotten any better as a team by playing in that game. We coasted. And getting by on talent alone is not acceptable. If we continue to rely on our talent to win games, eventually someone will be better than we are. When two equally talented teams are matched up against each other, most often the team that works harder and works together will be victorious. But never fear the talent of your opponent. You can find yourself in the position to beat a more talented team if you make up for the difference in talent with hard work and the development of a cohesive unit.

  Championship teams are not always a collection of the most talented individuals. In other words, you do not need three leading actors to have a great movie, you need supporting actors as well. Our teams often have several role players who complement our most talented players. These players may not score the most points but their contribution to our team’s success is not measured by statistics, it is measured in the wins and losses we achieve as a team. Often, with time and maturity, those supporting actors, like Chris Carrawell, develop into stars themselves.

  Talent is a natural gift and it is a wonderful thing to have. The ability to develop your talent is a talent in itself. Whether we get to our destination on a superhighway or a side street is not the issue. The people who reach their destinations are the ones who develop their talents fully and effectively. A talent is a blessing, and it is our responsibility to develop it.

  Trust

  Trust is an enormous word if you want to live a happy, fulfilling, and productive life. As much as it means to relationships, trust should be an eighteen-syllable word. But that one syllable, those five letters, represent the foundation upon which relationships must be based, whether those relationships be one-on-one, with a team, in a business, or in a family.

  Trust is developed through open and honest communication and, once established, creates a shared vision for a common goal. Established trust among a group of individuals bolsters a feeling of confidence that only comes in knowing that you are not alone. In basketball, if you are defending an offensive player on the wing and that player is able to drive past you, you have two choices: one, you can foul that player, or two, you can trust that your teammate will be there to help play defense. On our teams, we prefer the latter. As
a result of this trust, you play defense with tenacious abandon. Trust brings you together and makes everyone more confident.

  Trusting relationships serve as a reminder that you are not doing it alone, that someone else believes in you and that you can believe in them. If you are wondering whether or not you can “get it done” and someone you trust tells you that they believe in you—that is a powerful thing. Will you always get it done? No, but you certainly have a better chance when you possess the confidence that comes with knowing that you are not doing it alone.

  Part of building trusting relationships is confrontation. I do not define confrontation as something negative; it simply means meeting the truth, head-on. In my relationships, I want you to believe me when I tell you that you are great and I want you to believe me when I tell you that you are not working hard enough. Both of these are confrontations, but, because we trust each other, we know that our confrontations are truthful. No time is wasted trying to decipher meaning or understand motive. The confrontation, whether the subject is positive or negative, can immediately inspire action producing a positive result.

  At least once a season, I turn to one of my players in the locker room and ask them, “Son, are two better than one?” He’ll look back at me, afraid to give the simple answer, thinking I will use the opportunity to goof on him. “Come on,” I say, “it’s a simple question. Are two better than one?” Begrudgingly, he will eventually respond, “Yes, Coach, of course two is better than one.” “Not necessarily,” I reply. “Two are better than one only if two can act as one.” Establishing trust among a team allows you to act as one.

  Trust is a confident belief in your team, a person in your life, or a member of your family. Essentially, it means, “I have your back.” I have yours and I believe that you have mine. Trust builds confidence, and with confidence, you and your team have a much greater chance of achieving at a high level.