I knew one reality—for sure—as I was growing up: I wanted to
be a winner. That word—winner—probably stood out as the captivating
and driving desire, the fundamental “value” of my life, above all other words.
It didn’t much matter whether it was a big-deal athletic event, grades in
school, or a board game being played on a rainy day. I wanted to win. Later on, and probably using tamer
words, whether it was making a classroom presentation, writing a book, or
establishing a business, I wanted to manifest “quality” and “excellent,” I wanted
to have a good reputation, and I wanted to “make a difference.” Actually, all
of this—in my own interpretations—was simply and profoundly about winning, being the “best” (a strong
value word) that I could be.
The people who have attracted my attention the most have
been winners. I grew up on Vince Lombardi, the iconic coach of the Green Bay
Packers. I had a chance to see Peyton Manning play 40-50 times in person and
countless times on television; that was better than seeing Elvis or The
Beatles. I came to know Dan and Ned Wilford, hospital executives by trade, but
leaders in the finest sense of that word. They were the finest “winners” I ever
knew in business. I watched my Mother, when I was a pre-teen, fight valiantly
against cancer for half a decade. I guess the cancer finally “won,” but she was
a winner to me to the very end because of her dignity, her willpower, and her
continued joy of living even in the face of death. These kinds of people made
me want to be a winner, too. Even as a coach of my kids’ ball teams; even more
as a Father. Maybe that’s what true
leaders do for us—make us want to be winners too. The best of those leaders
show us directly how the process of winning works and guide us through it.
But, I’m not sure I have ever seen anyone who was any more
of a winner than Pat Summitt. I watched, along with an entire State and
nation—and even the world in two Olympics—as she transformed women's basketball
and left an indelible standard for women in the last generation. Pat Summitt was a coach—maybe one of the
highest callings of life, a leader, and a winner
of winners. She defines the very meaning of the word icon.
The question remains—especially if you believe in cause and
effect—what made Pat Summitt a leader and—even more—a winner? I’ve been considering that question a long time now, and if
it could begin to be answered, even in part, we might be on our way to
understanding something of the “anatomy” of a winner, the power behind
leadership at its best. In fact—to follow Robert S. Hartman—if we could see
something of Pat Summitt’s values, we
could better understand the driving forces that moved her life. Here’s what
I’ve seen in my own analysis:
1. Pat Summitt grew
up in a tough, small-farming community environment where life had pretty stark
and unrelenting demands. Her role-model father had no allusions about the
relationship of hard work to survival, and he made no apologies to Pat or her
siblings about the work that simply had to be done. Cows, he famously said,
never took a day off, and they would not milk themselves. She never feared hard
work and long hours. She expected them as part of a direct relationship with
success. She never missed a day of school as a child and young person. There
were no short cuts on the road to excellence, and she was willing to work
harder than anyone else. She saw that attribute as the key to her success.
2. In 1974, as a
rookie coach of the University of Tennessee women’s basketball team—and at age
22—she lost her first collegiate game by one point. She called her father in
despair. His direct and unemotional response to her dismay was simple: “You
don’t take donkeys to the Kentucky Derby.” She knew that the best leaders and
the most successful work demanded the best people. She became a tireless
recruiter of the best talent available. In writing a personal note to Candace
Parker, one of her greatest players, she unabashedly stated: “I want to be your
Coach! I can help you on the floor and
off the floor, as a basketball player and in your personal life. I want to be
your Coach!” She knew that the best required the best. She looked for, not just
good athletes, but young women who had learned that they would have to fight
for a better life; she would always meet them half-way in that fight and show
them a way to be victorious.
3. Pat Summitt had a
kind of odd relationship with competition. Unlike so many people who avoid or
fear competition, she actually—really and truly—embraced it and actively sought
it out. She saw the highest competition
as the only way to continue to improve. Ironically, the competition that could
beat her actually inspired her to greater mountaintops of success. She learned
from her competition. She studied what the competition was doing to beat her,
and that made her better. We saw growth and development—getting better—as a
life-long pursuit. Even when she lost, the losses were simply “setbacks.” She
hated losing, but would be back for another day with even greater passion.
Across her tenure as Coach at UT, 47% of her games were purposely scheduled
against ranked opponents. She never took any easy road.
4. Her won-loss
record speaks for itself, as does the fact that at the time of her death, she
had won more games than any collegiate basketball coach—man or woman—1,098. Yet,
when she talked about records, she most quickly talked about her “100%”—the
record established across the years reflecting the way in which every player
who finished her program in basketball also graduated with at least a
Bachelor’s Degree from UT. She didn’t “win” if her players didn’t “win” with
victories that would follow them across the entirety of their lives, with
victories that were even bigger than basketball.
5. Pat Summitt’s
presence filled the room. When her teams took the floor, every eye was on
her. She could have the steeliest “eye
of the tiger,” and then wrap people in warmth and love. My Mother-in-law, not much for traveling
away from home, would drive over an hour when she was in her eighties to see
“Pat’s” teams play. She always felt comfortable enough to call her “Pat,” even
though they never met. The intangible of “authenticity” was her signature
calling card. There have been only a bare few people whose character has
infused work like hers did.
So, if you want to talk about winning “leadership,” the
whole concept is role modeled with Pat Summitt: the value of hard work, finding
the very best people, seeking the toughest competition, helping others achieve
the goal of highest potential, and exuding character. Put these kinds of assets
together, and you will have a Winner!! You
see, Pat’s values drove her to
achieve the level of success that she did.
My two favorite Pat Summitt stories describe perfectly to me
what kind of person she was and why she transcended mere coaching greatness. The
first story involves a party held in her honor when she retired from active
coaching. A social time and then a meal were followed by a time when she was to
be celebrated by several important people at the gathering. She could not be
found. Then, after a few minutes of searching, she was discovered in the
kitchen with the sleeves of her finest eveningwear dress rolled up—washing
dishes.
The second story is pretty famous, but rings a note of awe
and wonder for me. She was in Pennsylvania on a recruiting visit, and began to
experience the birth contractions that preceded her son, Tyler, being born. She
rushed everyone in her group quickly back to the UT airplane, and insisted that
the pilot fly immediately back to Knoxville. Over everyone’s objections, she
would have it no other way—her son would be born in Tennessee!!
Once in a lifetime, we have a chance to see a Peyton Manning
or a Bear Bryant. They stand far beyond simply being players and coaches. We
may never see another person quite like Pat Summitt. All of us should be better
at what we do because she was so good at what she did. The meaning of the word winner is exponentially fulfilled by its
having any association with her name.
