Episode 9-Houston, we have a problem

The podcast host, Coach Rick, is excited about the success of his podcast and hopes to positively influence those considering coaching youth athletics. He shares a difficult incident from his coaching career that led to his exit. He also discusses his experiences coaching girls track and cross country, dealing with issues related to the track facility. He later talks about coaching boys middle school basketball and the challenges he faced, including conflicting coaching philosophies and reapplying for the coaching position. Despite the challenges, he had a successful coaching experience and received positive feedback from parents and players. Hey, happy holidays and welcome back coaches to the Gotcha Coach podcast, a podcast about coaching for coaches and presented by a real coach. I'm your host, Coach Rick, and you're listening to episode nine titled, Houston, we have a problem. Wow, episode nine. In all of my wildest dreams, did I ever think that this crazy idea of mine would result in over 100 downloads across the USA, and even in Japan and Singapore. Now I've been a youth athletic coach for over 50 years, and coached AYSO soccer, Little League baseball, girls softball, boys middle school basketball, AAU girls track and field, and girls high school football, basketball, and high school track and field. And it is my hope and desire that I can positively influence one or more of you out there who are considering coaching youth athletics. I can assure you that this is an experience unlike any other. Now let's get one thing clear. I am not a professional podcaster. In my previous episodes, you may have even heard my dog bark in the background, or my phone go off with its sound telling me I had a message. I do this from my dining room table on my laptop with no professional background at all. So if you hear those things, just kindly disregard them and listen to the message. I told you all in an earlier episode that I never got into this podcast endeavor for the money, much like we don't get into coaching for the money, but rather for the love of the sports that I was coaching, and the kids, oh yeah, the kids involved in each of those sports. This episode, as you will see in the end, is a tough one for me to discuss as the subject matter touches on an incident that led to my exit from the coaching ranks. The episode titled, Houston, We Have a Problem, is a paraphrase from the actual words spoken by the Apollo 13 astronauts in April of 1970, when they experienced an in-flight explosion while in space. When I first got into coaching sports at the ripe old age of 15, I would have never believed nor understood why or how there could have been problems. I mean, really, I was 15. My biggest problems were acne and how I could fit in with the cool kids in high school. You see, as it turned out, I was so intelligent when I moved from Pennsylvania to California in the early 1960s that I skipped third grade, and thus was a year behind the rest of my high school classmates. This made it tough in everything that I did, but I still persevered. My experiences with the Cupertino Little League and what they did to my family, as expressed in another earlier episode, didn't seem to be a monumental big deal to me at the age of 15. But it did, in retrospect, influence me in my future endeavors with any organization. Did this experience at such a young age influence me some six years later, when I became the head coach of the South Tahoe Steppers, the girls track and cross country team that was financially tied to the South Lake Tahoe Recreation Department? To be honest, it didn't. I thought I had put that situation completely behind me, at least for the time being. I mean, I was all of 21. And I found myself in charge of other people with absolutely nobody else to fall back on. You've heard in previous episodes about the issues I experienced with the snow on our all weather track in Tahoe, and how the city would take their big rotary blower on the outdoor basketball court at the school, and blow it onto the 100 meter straightaway of the track, because the basketball courts were essential as a gathering spot in case of a needed evacuation. Now, being the extrovert that I was, or maybe it was just my young age, I organized a Let's Clear the Track Day with the steppers and their parents. We all showed up on a Saturday morning with our snow shovels, and began to try to clear the track. Well, or at least two lanes, so that we could begin to get outside and run and train. Well, it turned out that a simple attempt to clear our track was, in the minds of the city, not a very good idea. All of a sudden, I was called into the office of the head of the Recreation Department, since I was basically employed by them, and told that I was this close to being arrested and thrown into jail. Apparently, not only did I put the city in a position where if anyone attempted to run on the track after we cleared those lanes, and they slipped on the ice and were injured, the city could be sued for negligence. Whoops. And then there was the accusation that what I did could have caused damage to city property. Now, what is really silly about the damage concept, and the concern that the city was expressing, would become a bone of contention later, as the city refused to do anything to preserve the historical track that was given to it after the 1968 Men's Olympic Trials. Now, remember, this track was a first of its kind, and had been used by the USA Men's Olympic Team in their training for the 68 Olympics in Mexico City. But it became a mere memory. As city council members changed, and after years and years had gone by, with only one resurfacing that had taken place, the track was deemed unacceptable to the powers that be in both high school and AAU as far as being able to host sanctioned meets. You see, the track was placed right next to a large grove of pine trees. And those tree roots grew and grew underground, to a point where they began to break through the underlayment of the track. And there were at least two areas where there were dips or ruts in the track, which made it unsafe. There was a small group of us that worked for years to try and preserve the track and its history, as well as updating the facility to include restrooms and a press box. But it turned out that getting community support proved to be much more difficult than any of us expected. In fact, it wasn't until 2007, when, with an extremely large donation from an area businessman, the Olympic trials track was completely torn up and replaced, thus ending a piece of Lake Tahoe history. To this day, to the best of my knowledge, there is absolutely nothing that lets this or any future generation know what used to be at this site and the history behind it. Let's talk for a few minutes about my experiences with coaching boys middle school basketball. I initially started with the South Tahoe Middle School 7th grade boys team, a year before my own son, Caleb, could try out for the team. I did this so there could be no perceived favoritism issues when Caleb was eligible to play. As I did with the high school girls soccer coach, I approached the high school boys basketball coach, whose son I was coaching in Little League, and asked him how I could help his program. His response was not what I expected. You see, my thoughts on how many players to carry on the team was to have at least 10. So you could scrimmage in practice, and then have two extra players for a total of 12. He requested that I carry no less than 15 players, and that I play them in every game. Well, this turned out to be an issue. Getting 15 boys into a game, when each quarter is only six minutes long, was very counterproductive. And it was counterproductive to my coaching philosophies. I mean, after two losing seasons, one when Caleb was finally on the team, the 8th grade team had an opening for a head coach position. And since I had already coached the boys that would advance the 8th grade team as 7th graders, I applied for the position and was shot down. Now fast forward to 2015, when I was hired as a 7th grade boys coach at 12 Bridges Middle School. I kept 12 boys on the team. And the only thing that I wanted to do was to teach them the basics, and to also initiate them into the offense that the 8th grade coach was using, so they could move on to his team the next year. We had a decent season, had a winning record, but missed the playoffs by one game. But the best thing that happened was after the last game of the season, the athletic director came up to me and asked me what I thought about the season, and if I wanted to come back next year. Wow! Asking me what I thought about the season, and if I wanted to come back was more than what I had anticipated, or had any other athletic director asked me before. I had numerous parents approach me before this, and tell me how much they enjoyed my style, and that their son had learned so much from me. So of course, I said that I wanted to come back. Now after a year or two of coaching the 7th grade boys, the 8th grade boys coach decided he was stepping down to pursue a higher scholastic degree. So being the glutton for punishment, I asked if I could coach both teams. I mean, why not? I was already going to be at the gym for practice, and at the game, so why not coach both? The school agreed, and I was on top of the world. One of the neat things that I did, since I was coaching both teams, and both teams were learning the same offense and defensive schemes, was to practice both teams together. It made for more cohesiveness, and allowed for mutual respect between the 7th and 8th graders to be developed. Another idea that I implemented was where I had my 8th graders act as mentors for the 7th graders. I set aside a specific amount of time at every practice, and gave my 8th graders the 7th graders that played the same position as they did, and they did the coaching. Of course, I set the practice parameters for each session, and was there to oversee everything. The 8th graders absolutely loved the idea of being somewhat in charge, and actually took pride in seeing their younger counterparts perform in their games, especially when one of them did something that the 8th grader had taught them. So, where is the problem in this coaching experience? Well, after four years of having absolutely no issues, I was informed by school administration that all of a sudden, I needed to reapply for the coaching position. When I questioned why, I was told that it was district policy that all coaching positions were to be reapplied for every year. Now, this was not exactly true. In fact, it wasn't accurate at all since I had been coaching track at the local high school at the same time, and was never asked to reapply annually. So, here's the lesson I want you to learn. If you're not an actual tenured teacher at the school where you're coaching, you have no real security when it comes to returning. So, just take every year as it comes, and don't expect anything, because apparently, you're not owed anything. Now, let's look at the most recent problem, the problem that contributed to my leaving the coaching ranks. This is a very touchy subject, as well as very difficult for me to openly convey. But it must be discussed for the purposes of this podcast, since it is intended to inform and enlist young men and women who are considering entering the ranks of being a coach, no matter what level. And I feel that it is important to hear the good as well as the bad that you are liable to experience. It all started with a great deal of problems in the offseason between 2022 and 2023. My distance coach, who had two boys varsity league champions, both freshmen, mind you, had to leave the team to get a full-time teaching position some 45 minutes away, and didn't feel that he could give the same dedication that he had in the first season. Our principal, who was very supportive of athletics, was promoted within the district office. And I wound up making some very bad decisions at the start of the season that set the stage for people, administration, and parents to question and doubt me. Truth be told, I was wrong, and I lost my focus. I had become, once again, consumed with the idea of winning a boys league championship in only the second year of the school being in existence, and said and did some things that I had never done in my 50-plus years. Really, the things I talked about from an earlier episode, as far as my actions in front of the TV camera, when I was very young and immature, could not hold a candle to my poor reactions to events this second year. I said some things to some of my boys who decided they were skipping the track season in order to get in better shape for football. I had named these boys team captains, and then they tell me, on the second day of practice, that they were quitting. I went ballistic on the inside, and then transferred that anger into writing, to the boys and to anyone who could read. Upon reflecting on the stupidity of this, I wrote them back with an apology. But the toothpaste was already out of the tube, and the damage had been done. And while many parents chalked up my outbursts to my intense dedication and passion, many more lashed out at me for my insensitivity toward teenage boys. And to be honest, those parents were right. They had a right to lash out at me. I had forgotten that these were 16- and 17-year-old boys, and they didn't deserve that from me, or any coach for that matter. Things were, well, let's just say I was walking on eggshells after that, doubting my moves, overanalyzing everything, and I did or say and add my—and I'd lost my way. I was bringing my work home with me to my wife, and I was putting her through the same hell that I was experiencing, something that I didn't like doing but had done way too many times during my career. And I was looking at making some very difficult decisions as to whether I would be returning for a third year. As it turned out, events expedited that decision to the week after our first track meet. One day after our first practice, after that first meet, I was approached by some parents who made some accusations about my coaching style that just stunned me and had never been said to me before during my career. I was devastated. I was mad. I was hurt. Thankfully, there was one of my assistant coaches standing nearby who heard what was going on and intervened with an excuse that he needed me at the storage shed where we kept our equipment. He told me that he had heard exactly what I just conveyed to you, so I knew that I wasn't exaggerating the situation. When I got home, I was in tears. I received a phone call from another assistant who had heard about what took place, and he assured me that he had my back and that the claims were ludicrous. While his comments were very nice to hear, I feared that damage was done, and it was. If these parents had a problem with my style, how could I know if it wasn't the overall feeling of any other parents? I couldn't, and that was what upset me the most. Knowing that I would be watched and that every step I took was possibly going to be scrutinized and questioned was more than I could handle. So after discussing what happened that day with my wife, I made the decision that I could no longer effectively coach the team, and I was going to step down. Indeed, Houston, we have a problem. This was not the way that I envisioned leaving the coaching profession, and it hurt. So what's the lesson from this episode? Well, I mean, stuff happens. Coaches aren't perfect. Parents are not perfect. Administrators are not perfect. And we, as coaches, have to make decisions as to how to handle the situations like I conveyed in the episode. Do we roll up our sleeves and try to do something positive, as I and others did in the first example? Or do we accept the cards that were dealt to us and move on, as I did in the second example? Or do we just make the tough decision that enough is enough and walk away, as I did in the last example? Those choices are up to each of you, and I'm not here to tell you what you should do, but yet that this kind of stuff happens. And in my opinion, where you are in your walk as a coach, be it early on in your career when you're young and flexible, or you're older and have been doing this for a while and have the many scars that you can experience, and it just becomes not worth any of it anymore. For me, I had apparently lost my why, which if you listened to episode eight, you'd know what this was. That was what I asked my athletes why they were coming out for the team. And I had to ask myself why I was doing this every day. And I had lost that. Now, don't get me wrong. I miss the kids. I miss them terribly. I miss the competition. I miss seeing the weekly progress and successes that they experienced and the smiles on their faces. And I really, really wish with all my heart that I would have done things differently in that last situation. You see, I miss being a coach. Until next time, take care, be safe, laugh a lot, and tell someone that you love them. I'll talk to you soon. Well, actually, I won't talk to you soon. You see, we're coming into Christmas, and I have some family holiday events coming up. So I'm going to take a couple of weeks off, and I won't be back on air until after the Christmas holiday is complete. Until then, have a very happy holiday season, and I'll talk to you then.