At the risk of dating myself (yet again), I was recently thinking back to my heyday of the 1970s and ‘80s, when there was a popular perfume commercial with the tagline: “If you want someone’s attention, whisper.”
I’ve always thought this is a great approach for coaching. I’m not exactly “quiet” by nature, so learning this approach has taken some time. But, as I was joking with Stop It Goaltending’s Brian Daccord during the annual Foundation for Goalie Research and Education symposium in May, one of the key characteristics of a good coach is the ability to evolve. For me, that meant lowering the volume on my garrulous side, and learning to speak to my goalies in softer, more measured tones.
That requires a certain leap of faith. It was my coaching with girls that really highlighted how effective this approach can be. In general, girls don’t want to be “told” to do something. They want things — whether a drill, or a particular technique — explained.
Which is absolutely fair. And trying to “explain” things while you’re yelling is a pretty useless exercise. But explain things to girls, and they’ll skate through walls for you. The delightful offshoot was finding out how well boys responded to this “quiet” approach as well.
In short, you can be loud, and you can be critical. But you can’t be loud and critical, and still hope to be an effective coach. Not these days, anyway. And I suspect the loud approach never has worked all that well. Losing your cool, and screaming criticisms, is a sign that a coach has lost his or her composure. Sure, you might get the occasional kid who responds to yelling, but most will simply tune you out. I don’t blame them one bit.
Conversely, lowering your voice brings the player to you. It becomes a conversation, not a series of orders. That helps create a relationship, a partnership.
This notion really hit home the other day when I came across an excellent article in the Arizona Republic by reporter Doug Haller.
The article focused on new Arizona State football head coach Herm Edwards (of New York Jets and ESPN fame), and how quiet his spring practices have been. Now, anyone who knows Edwards understands he has a bombastic side (“Hello? You play to win the game!”). As a coach and an ESPN analyst, Edwards was known for his “over-the-top” delivery, which was one of the reasons that made him an attractive studio analyst.
But on the playing field, and the practice field, Edwards has learned that a more low-key approach often is more effective. His philosophy is simple: The softer a coach speaks, the more players have to concentrate. If there’s a lot of yelling, it eventually just turns into noise, and “noise” doesn’t translate well. Edwards told Haller that he learned the quiet approach from his former head coach in Tampa Bay, Hall of Famer Tony Dungy. And Dungy, who credited his former coach in Pittsburgh, Chuck Noll, agreed.
“You instruct people and tell them what to do, but it’s a teaching environment,’’ Dungy told Haller. “That’s what we wanted to create. We would get players who were motivated and we’d get players who were hungry and we would just teach them, so we felt like we didn’t have to have that high decibel range all the time.”
Edwards notes in Haller’s article that simply changing volume from a shout to a whisper forces the player you’re coaching to focus more on what is being said simply because they have to listen more closely, more intently. Yelling upon yelling upon yelling simply turns into white noise after a while.
“Does the volume go up with certain coaches?” Edwards said. “Yeah, it goes up. It goes up with me sometimes, but I think words are powerful and how you address an athlete is very important.”
Haller noted that Edwards does yell, but often does it with humor. That’s huge. Because, as I said earlier, you can be loud, as long as you are not overly critical. Harsh, overbearing criticism doesn’t work with pets (unless you want a cowering canine), and it doesn’t work with people, at any age.
The benefit, said ASU senior quarterback Manny Wilkins, is that the quiet approach engenders a sense of maturity.
“If we want to be treated like grown men, if you want to go around talking like you’re a grown man, act like a grown man,” Wilkins told Haller.
The Dungy approach works on the football field, and it works on the ice. It also works at home. So, as a note to parents, keep in mind that your young athlete likely will respond better to a measured, controlled message. It’s a true win/win.
