The world we live in today is such a cynical, fire breathing hell from the outside looking in. Standards for leaders are judged strictly based upon performance. Often we see successful coaches or players ridiculed & tossed along the wayside for not meeting expectations in the recent past. The body of work, even one of great achievement, is not given a great deal of consideration when evaluating performance. Wins/ losses & statistics, not influence, set the bar of which they will be judged. But what makes a great leader? Is it how he is viewed by the outside world? Wins & losses? Great leaders will win, but how they achieve those results, the values they teach, and the love of those they lead will create a longer lasting impact upon a team & society than a victorious number on a scoreboard. All coaches love to win, but those who put out the effort to show that a players' life is more important than the game are the real champions.
I love to share personal experiences, and I've often spoke of those who have influenced myself to become a coach. It is also probably a good thing I'm not vocally telling this story due to the lump in my throat & the tears that it brings to my eyes. I would like to share my story of a man named Bryan Burdette, my high school football coach.
In my younger years, good decision making & great performance were not always present, but this man stood behind me every step of the way. Coach Burdette took over as head coach my sophomore year, the same year he selected me to be the starting quarterback. We had just finished a dismal 2-7 season that ended with a playoff berth (because of a coach who would not lose faith) & a promising future. That spring, I had shoulder surgery to repair ligaments in my throwing arm. Entering the summer, I had started to experiment in some questionable decision making. One night in June, I was pushing my curfew. My parents were VERY strict with my curfew. Not wanting to get into trouble, I decided to take the backroads at about 90 mph to avoid the cops. Blasting through a stop sign & ramping a railroad track left me stranded in the middle of nowhere, my car smashed into a tree. Very fortunate not to be in heaven (or hell) I came away with a broken ankle & a smashed up mouth. Not being able to drive, Coach Burdette offered to let me ride with him to weights each morning. Throughout the groggy, summer-morning drives, we developed a great player-coach relationship. I had learned, that even though he was a man of God, his past was not always spotless either, and he had changed what his future likely would have been.
My Junior season had high team expectations throughout the community. After two dismal performances marred with interceptions, poor passes, and a second half benching, I was lost, crushed, & a mental disaster. The Saturday after the second game, I was sitting at home sulking when I heard a vehicle pulling up the Rider Hill. It was coach in his red F-150. I was fearful of what his visit meant. We talked about the season thus far & the early shortcomings. I hated disappointing him. I knew how much he wanted to win & the effort he had put into our team. I broke down, tearfully apologizing to him for letting him down. He quickly dismissed my apology. Instead he did what I least expected, he told me bluntly: "The coaches mentioned that maybe we needed a change...but you're our quarterback." He had made the drive out to my house to personally tell me that, and to make sure I wasn't beating myself up. How many coaches will visit a player's home to give them a vote of confidence, to lift them up? At that point, nothing in the world could have meant more for my clouded mind. He showed me he cared, and I would have done anything for him from that point forward. Not because he knew the game better than other coaches, but because he showed me that it was more than just about winning to him. Although my personal performance that season was a disappointment, we captured a district title & the first playoff victory in school history & he never gave up on me.
In my senior season, my quarterback play saw drastic improvements & we produced the furthest team-run in school history into the playoffs & a Regional crown. When we lost to Rossville by one point in the State Quarterfinals, largely because of my mistakes late in the game, he took the blame for a costly interception I threw, saying that it was a bad play call on his part. We knelt & prayed on the field after that final game, and I've never cried so hard in my entire life. Partly because I knew I would never have the chance to play for him again. I loved that man for everything he had done for me, not just because we won games or taught me how to play the game. He sacrificed countless times to take the time to show me he cared.
Immediately after my graduation ceremony that next May, he asked me to come with him over to his office. I had no inclination what for. We had gotten new football jerseys my freshmen year. I wore #12 all four years. When we arrived in his office, he grabbed a sack & pulled out two uniforms. They were my #12's. As he handed them to me, (with a tear in his eye whether he will admit it or not) he said: "I can't let anyone else wear these jerseys. I want you to have them."
That is what makes a great leader. Show them you care because everything else is icing on the cake. Those events I described made more of a lasting impact upon my life than the wins & the trophies. I'll take a less talented leader that cares about those he impacts, over a genius with a track record of success with no heart, any day of the year. I want to invest in my players like he invested in me, to have a bond, a relationship. At the end of the day, that is what it's all about, not just winning & losing on the scoreboard. As the old saying goes...They don't care how much you know, until they know how much you care....
