U.S. college football coaches continue to show the worst kind of leadership example

I’ve written in previous posts about a number of U.S. college football coaches and the (to me, at least) disappointing way some of them conduct their business.

They are supposed to be teachers, leaders, role-models, winners.

Too often, in reality they are recruiters and charlatans.

Beyond the obvious (and countless) instances of recruiting violations, poor conduct and such things, too many leave their contracts and the kids they recruited—high and dry because a “better” job came along. Brian Kelly, who recently left his Cincinnati college team to become coach at Notre Dame is an example, as is Lane Kiffin, who left the University of Tennessee after just one season to go to the University of Southern California.

Check previous posts and you’ll see this is a subject I believe is important when we are talking about sports, our youth, and what leadership really means.

A well-respected football writers in the United States, Peter King of NBC and Sports Illustrated, wrote a piece recently (shown in part, below, in italics) which largely mirrors my long-held views. I was particularly drawn to comments attributed to the son of legendary college football coach Joe Paterno.

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This Lane Kiffin story really ticks me off.

The gall of Kiffin. The unmitigated, outrageous gall of this kid. And the idiocy of Tennessee apparently giving Kiffin -- when, let's be honest, what options did he have coming off his disastrous 5-15 run with the Raiders? -- an $800,000 buyout after one year of his contract. But I blame Kiffin far more. Tennessee bought out Phil Fulmer's coaching staff, then brought in Kiffin and his staff (including his father, Monte, for a reported $1-million-a-year deal to be a college defensive coordinator) and the minute there's an opening at USC, Lane Kiffin bolts ... in the prime part of recruiting season, a terrible time to hire a coaching staff.

I wonder if Kiffin ever said to a single recruit since getting hired by Tennessee 13-plus months ago, "USC's my dream job, so if it ever opens up, I've got to go?'' Of course not. I'm sure the conversation was something like, "Come to Tennessee, I'm going to be here a long, long time, and we're going to win a national championship together.''

One 7-6 season. After Tennessee rescued a tarnished Kiffin. After Tennessee's athletics department backed Kiffin through six secondary recruiting violations, and after Tennessee backed Kiffin in a potential violation of having campus "hostesses'' make "visits'' to recruits all over the southeast.

And he's rewarded by another institution of higher learning (and I type that with as much sarcasm as I can muster), making him even richer than if he'd stayed at Tennessee .

Where's the decency? The maturity? The gratitude? The simple sense of even a pinch of loyalty?

My favorite part of this story is that Kiffin left Tennessee so hurriedly that he didn't even bother to call his brother-in-law, the brother of his wife, who was also his quarterbacks coach at Tennessee . The New York Times reported David Reaves found out Kiffin was bolting when he saw the news on TV at a local restaurant.

In the past few days, I've learned that I'm really old, because there's not nearly as much outrage as I thought there'd be over this. I'd say my Twitter account has been 60-40 against my anti-Kiffin stance (yes, I did call him "a bum''), believing that as long as he pays the buyout, he's got no obligation to the university beyond that. That's where I'll draw the line in the moral sand. He has an obligation to Tennessee. That school gave Kiffin and his family a life-preserver when he was on the street. Would he have gotten a good coaching job, after Davis booted him out of Oakland? Maybe. An SEC contender's coaching job? I doubt it. And this is how he thanks them.

Interesting column Friday on statecollege.com by Penn State quarterbacks coach Jay Paterno, son of Joe, railing about the state of college football. "This profession has lost touch with the reality of the world around us, and some coaches have lost touch with what the mission of our profession should be,'' Jay Paterno wrote. "We are starting to look as arrogant as the Wall Street bankers raking in seven-figure bonuses. The astronomical explosion in coaching salaries continues at a time of 10 percent unemployment in America and exploding tuition costs burdening working class families ... Coaches walk into a recruit's home and talk about how they will look out for that young man's future. The expectation is that the coach will help to guide him through a very formative time. A year later the same coach is off to another job for more money and left behind are the young men he promised to nurture towards their future.''

That's precisely the way I feel. I hated Brian Kelly skipping out on Cincinnati before its bowl game; I hated the USC staff not returning calls to recruits they'd bombarded with text messages and phone calls for months when Pete Carroll flirted with the Seahawks. But this one is so reprehensible because of Kiffin being rescued by the Vols and leaving after a cup of coffee and tons of broken promises. Now, a few notes responding to many of your e-mails and Tweets to me:

• Why this differs from a NFL coach like Bobby Petrino or Nick Saban leaving for college football. It doesn't. Those things were outrageous too.

• Why this differs from a coach who gets fired despite having a valid contract with his pro or college team. It does, because teams or schools have to pay a coach who gets fired what he's due under the terms of his contract. If he's got three years and $3 million left, the school has to fork it over.

• Why this differs from the Josh Cribbs story. You may know that I've been on Cribbs' contractual side. He's got three years left on a contract that in 2009 made him the 30th-highest-paid Cleveland Brown, though he was selected the all-pro return man this season. I've written the Browns should do the right thing and give Cribbs, the most dangerous special-teamer in football, a new contract. I feel strongly he should be paid more. But if he is not paid, he needs to live up to the contract he signed. He signed it, it stinks, and he's got to live with it if he can't reach agreement on a new deal.

• Why this differs from the real world. Scores of you believe I'm a Pollyanna about this. I currently have a contract with Sports Illustrated, and another with NBC. If another media company came to me and offered me three times what I'm making, I wouldn't entertain the offer. I want to believe I'm like most Americans -- a contract's a contract.

Except, of course, if you're a college football coach.

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Based on King’s comments above, some people are evidently not troubled by coaches moving around, believing, I suppose, that it’s a “free country” as the saying goes and coaches have a right to go where they want to go, whenever they want to go- just like anyone else

While that is true, the example it sets for young people, on many levels, is anything but good.

Loyalty for athletes, but not their coaches?

College football coaches—and pro, for that matter—in the United States are known for preaching constantly about teamwork and loyalty.

They do this with goods reason. Football is obviously a demanding sport, physically and psychologically, and there are obvious benefits to working together as a tight-knit group to achieve difficult goals against top competition.

Ironically, however, many of these same individuals simply do not practice what they preach.

Every December, we see a number of high-profile College football coaches leaving their team before the current NCAA season is even finished to accept a coaching position elsewhere.

Two recent examples of how individuals put themselves ahead of their athletes and their schools and programs come from Bobby Petrino and Rich Rodriguez.

Petrino left his job as head Coach of the NFL Atlanta Falcons literally less than 24 hours after coaching the team on Monday Night football to take a job with the University of Arkansas.

Clearly, while he was supposedly preparing his struggling pro team to play a league game, he was also negotiating with officials at Arkansas.

That is a no-no.

In a similar vein, Rodriguez was recruited by the University of Michigan in the weeks before his Western Virginia team played in an important Bowl game. He has since been sued by the University of West Virginia, according to various published reports, and has expressed disappointment that he would be treated in that manner.

It is impossible to believe how these individuals can preach loyalty when they are prepared to leave a team in the midst of a season for a "better opportunity" elsewhere.

Rodriguez, ironically, did not even coach Michigan in their upset Bowl victory over Florida. Just as interestingly, his former West Virginia team, also an underdog, played inspired football in beating their Bowl opponent Oklahoma with an Assistant Coach running the show.

It’s easy to understand that coaches want job security. But when you already have that, and you leave the players, especially at the college level, that you yourself recruited and convinced to come to your school, it is very hard to understand.

A year ago it was Nick Saban insisting he was not leaving the Miami Dolphins for the University of Alabama, only to wisk off to a press conference to announce that he was indeed taking the Alabama job.

If you are a young student athlete thinking about going to University in the U.S. to play football, based on a particular coach, you may be well advised to ensure you are going to that University for a number of good reasons, not simply because of the "Coach".

Otherwise, you may hear a lot of words and a lot of promises, and end up feeling as though you were left at the altar.

Bill Belichick: stand in line

That an NFL team has been "caught" cheating (illegal videotaping of opposition signals) should come as little surprise. Cheating has been a temptation in—and a part of—sports for all long as we all can remember.

It is part of the human condition, it would seem—at least the temptation to do so. Everyone wants to get “the edge”, whether achieved “legally” or otherwise.

The examples of cheating in sports are many. Hall-of-Fame pitcher Gaylord Perry was a well-known “cheat”, scuffing and greasing baseballs on his way to 300+ career victories. No one speaks of his plaque being taken down at Cooperstown. Fellow Hall-of-Famer Whitey Ford has admitted publicly that he cheated toward the end of his career in an effort to hang on; he is still a hero to many. Well-known White Sox broadcaster and former player Ken “Hawk” Harrelson has admitted that he corked his bat; many others have done the same through the years. (Albert Belle and Sammy Sosa were caught; most aren’t.)

But the slippery ethical slope has manifested itself in myriad ways in the current era, and it does not reflect well on professional sports, or its ongoing and pervasively negative influence on youth sports.

Professional sports is entertainment, to be sure. Perhaps we assume an element of trickery, of ego, of smugness— among other less than admirable traits.

But far too many pro athletes act as though a good play must be followed by a Hulk Hogan pose or a dance. The limits of what is acceptable bend further and further every year.

We all understand that greed is at the forefront of the pro game. I recall my father and I, in the late 1970’s, discussing that Bruce Sutter held out for the then un-heard of (for a relief pitcher) sum of $700,000, I think it was. His comment was that he had to look out for his family’s future. My dad, who raised 5 children and never made more than $6,000 a year in his life, couldn’t believe the comment. He must have wondered how athletes could be such poor financial planners.

Thirty years later, we actually hear athletes saying the same thing when they are “insulted” by the latest multi-million dollar offer from their clubs. They need even more, because, we are told, they must “look out for their family’s future”.

Remarkable. Is it the arrogance, the selfishness, or the simple lack of perspective that people find disheartening?

(It is these same athletes, in the NFL, for example, who can’t share their immense wealth to help retired athletes who are now destitute and in need of basic medial care, but that is a situation we have already discussed…)

We already have young athletes talking back to umpires and to hockey and soccer referees; diving on the ice and the soccer pitch looking to draw un-deserved fouls, utilizing attitudes and “skills” they have learned from the pros. (This does not even take into account example of athletes who run afoul of the law, seemingly because they, with their wealth and their sense of superiority, believe they are above the law…and other people.)

But now, we are going beyond mere greed, or bad behaviour that sets a poor example for young people.

Now, the integrity of the game itself is coming into question.

Just in the last couple of years, professional soccer has seen massive scandals in Italy and elsewhere, specifically with Clubs and Referees on the take. Juventus gets pushed down one division and is right back in the top League. Not much of a lesson there.

Baseball saw records smashed in the 1990’s. Does anyone believe those records were set without the use of steroids? Not a chance. People – the media, fans, the commissioner—knew what was happening then, and they know it now. But it was OK when the game needed a boost. Now a kind of deathbed, superficial show of repentance is on display. Players like Rafael Palmeiro become a scapegoat because they are “caught”.

Basketball has it own issues. A referee is going to jail because he was involved in fixing games. This is the NBA, the league that didn’t want people in the province of Ontario to be able to bet on Raptor games through ProLine, if I recall correctly.

And now it is confirmed that the 3-time Super Bowl Champion Patriots and their future Hall-of-Fame Coach have cheated. Not by accident, by design.

To add insult to injury, Bill Belichick won’t comment on the deception. No regrets, no real apologies—saying only that he is “moving on”.

I’m sure he is.

The League’s response: a modest fine, and a lost draft choice.

(Pete Rose won’t be allowed into the Hall-of Fame because he bet on baseball games, though he did this as a manager, not a player…He was banned for life and we don’t even know if his betting influenced his judgment as a manager. We know what the Patriots did gave them a competitive advantage but they receive not even a suspension of any kind…)

Many used to think boxing was the sport that was seen as tainted because of its apparent connection with organized crime.

Now, is it fair to say that most major professional sports are no better than boxing ever was in ethical terms?

What do we tell our kids?

Or do we bother to even have the conversation because it’s too late to change how we view sports, and the role of sports in society?

"Do as I say..."

The National Football League, according to its own people, is looking to “clean up its act”.

League officials acknowledge the NFL — as popular as it is with fans and bettors every Sunday in the fall — has a lot of work to do to get rid of its image as a league with too many athletes who are greedy, selfish and too often in trouble with the law.

As this public relations initiative evolves to help the League smooth its rough edges, here comes a double dose of irony.

A large number of highly-respected former players, including Hall-of-Famers Mike Ditka, Bart Starr and Sam Huff have called on the League and the NFL Players Association to do more to help former players, many of whom are, by all accounts, in desperate need of financial assistance. The players from the 50’s and 60’s did not make “the big bucks”, and many have found the transition to life after pro sports very difficult. Quite a number have medical costs that they simply cannot cover.

Various reports persist in suggesting that the vast majority of today’s players have no interest in giving up any of the millions of dollars they earn annually to share with those who helped build the League before them.

Critics suggest the League and the Players Association should do more. Much more.

A lot of the criticism has been directed at long-time Players Association President Gene Upshaw, himself a Hall-of-Famer who earns more than a million dollars a year in salary.

In a recent ESPN.com story, Upshaw is quoted as telling the Philadelphia Daily news (in response to critical comments attributed to former Buffalo Bills guard Joe DeLamielleure) that, “A guy like DeLamielleure says the things he said about me, you think I'm going to invite him to dinner? No. I'm going to break his ... damn neck".

Many of DeLamielleure’s friends and fellow former players were quoted in the ESPN story as saying that the man they called Joe D should be concerned about the alleged “threat” from Upshaw. One former player is quoted as saying, “I don’t trust him (Upshaw) not to be violent.”

Here is a League, an institution, really, in the United States, working supposedly hard to clean up its image.

The guys who built the foundation upon which the League now stands are simply asking that some of the millions of dollars that today’s League and players are earning be shared equitably among former players in need.

When one of the leaders of the NFL “establishment” (Upshaw), doesn’t like the criticism they are receiving, they respond with the kind of public comment that makes even tough-guy ex-NFL types shudder.

In terms of the messages the League is communicating, it may be that the League itself, and its leaders, need to set the bar much higher in terms of its own attitude and behaviour, if it wants to set an example for its modern-day players to follow.

A reminder from Clinton Portis

The U.S. legal system will determine if Falcons quarterback Michael Vick was in any involved in the so-called ‘dog-fighting’ scheme that his name has been allegedly linked to.

Almost as distressing was the reaction of a fellow NFL player, long-time running back Clinton Portis.

Before his team, the Washington Redskins, rushed to issue a public apology, Portis was evidently accurately quoted as saying (on ESPN.com) , "If that's what he wants to do, do it. I think people should mind their business."

The story goes on to say that when Portis was informed that dog fighting is a felony, he replied, "It can't be too bad of a crime."

Beyond the cruelty and uneccessary pain inflicted on animals stemming from this so-called “sport”, are we to believe that Portis’s attitude reflects a broader malaise about such activities?

Impossible to say, of course.

But young athletes would be well advised to keep certain thoughts to themselves.

While it is generally a good thing to be honest, engaging and open, though guarded, when interacting with reporters, situations like the one that has touched Vick should throw up red flags.

Perhaps Portis was simply saying what he really felt, that forcing dogs to fight one another is no big deal.

If so, while it is his right to hold such views, many would find those views at best disconcerting.

But to publicly express such views?

No wonder the Redskins scrambled to have him apologize publicly, and did so themselves as an organization the next day.

When is a lie the truth?

A lot of my professional work over the past 20 years has been around helping athletes and coaches at all levels—amateur and professional—understand their professional responsibilities, be aware of the needs and realities of the media, and communicate/navigate through media and public scrutiny with as much integrity and credibility as they possibly can.

Whether these individual clients meet with fans one-on-one, interact with the media daily or occasionally, or encounter more formal public speaking opportunities, the ability to communicate clearly and credibly is vital to their off-field and off-ice endeavors—and success—for a whole host of reasons.

This brings us to a recent situation involving Major League Baseball’s Toronto Blue Jays.

Revealing and/or formally reporting sports injuries is handled a little different from sport to sport.

As gambling is vital to the popularity of pro football in the United States, the NFL has long had a firm policy that teams must disclose all—even minor—injuries the week of the next scheduled game, and to declare the statistical likelihood of a particular athlete being available to play in that game.

Hockey, on the other hand, has a long history of coaches deliberately being vague about the severity of injuries; in recent years it has become a running joke about whether a player has an “upper-body” or “lower-body” injury. NHL players take great pride in playing through pain, but coaches don’t like the opposition to know what injured area they should be going after during a game.

Baseball is a little different. Some guys play with injuries, of course, but teams don’t generally make a point of hiding injury information. A hang-nail puts some guys on the 15-day DL in baseball, and Sammy Sosa missed 15 days a few years ago after he sneezed and pulled a muscle, so what’s to hide?

All this said, an ethicist or perhaps a linguist would no doubt have fun with the following story:

Toronto Blue Jays closer B.J. Ryan was placed on the disabled list earlier this season. Evidently the team had claimed the pitcher had back problems dating back to spring training. Last week, General Manager J.P. Ricciardi declared that it was actually the lefty’s elbow, not his back, that was the problem that ultimately landed the player on the 60-day DL.

As mentioned, this sort of thing (not being straightforward about injuries) happens in hockey all the time, though not in football.

Most fans could care less whether it was a player’s back or his elbow. They simply want to know if the guy is too hurt to play effectively.

In a recent Globe & Mail and Canadian Press story, Ricciardi is quoted as denying he ever “lied” about the nature of Ryan’s injury.

In the interview, Ricciardi is quoted as saying, “It was his elbow that was bothering him. So we said it was his back, so we could have a bit more time.”

More time for what, I’m not sure. But whatever his reason, the fact remains that Ricciardi and the Jays organization reported false information regarding the nature of Ryan’s injury.

Remembering again that masking the details of injury is not entirely uncommon, perhaps more troubling than the initial misinformation was Ricciardi’s explanation of his own behaviour. Ricciardi maintains that he did not lie about Ryan’s reason for being on the DL.

In a questionable twisting of words, Ricciardi reportedly made a point of telling the media, “It’s not lies if we know the truth.”

A lot of people have probably tried to understand that sentence, wondering if that is really what Ricciardi intended to say.

Assuming Ricciardi said what he meant to say, a question for him might be: If you do know the truth and don’t report the truth, and in fact report something else, is that not a lie? In fact, is that not the definition of a lie?

Regardless, it is fair to suggest that whatever equity this General Manager has tried to establish – and milk—with the media and fans over the past several years may be harmed more by the use of intentionally disingenuous language, than by a long losing streak.

Those two things together are an even worse cocktail when it comes to his believability and credibility with the media—and fans.

As I often remind my clients, it generally takes years to build your credibility, but only a few seconds to throw it away.

It's Better to go fishing

By now most NFL observers and fans are aware of the events of the recent NFL draft, and the brick-like fall of Notre Dame quarterback Brady Quinn.

Quinn is a tremendously gifted athlete from a big name school, coached by a well-regarded former NFL coach at a prestigious college.

Quinn conducted what amounts to a media and public relations campaign to project himself as the deserving number 1 overall choice in the draft.

When he was not selected first, a confluence of events conspired to see his stock fall, such that he was not actually chosen until 22nd overall, though at least still in the first round of the football draft.

Readers will know that, as with the NBA draft, many of the top college players are invited to attend the NFL draft, and sit in the so-called “green room” awaiting their name to be called before they step out onto the stage and meet with commissioner at the podium and smile for the TGV cameras.

Quinn was indeed on hand in person, looking more pained by the moment as 21 names were called before him.

Interestingly, one fellow prospective choice, Joe Thomas of Wisconsin, chose to not attend the draft, spending the day fishing with his Dad and a friend. He was selected third overall and evidently found out about his selection later, by phone.

While Quinn, by all accounts, handled his ‘fall’ with about as much grace as a young person can under the circumstances, it brings to mind something that hockey guru Don Cherry stresses to young players every spring: you may want to consider not attending the NHL draft, unless you are absolutely – absolutely—certain your name will be called when you anticipate it will be.

(I say much the same to my young hockey clients. While it can be a once-in-a-lifetime thrill to be at the draft and hear your name called, it can also be a major disappointment when agents, coaches, scouts and friends have been telling you you’ll be drafted, and then you sit there and watch name after name called, and you’re dying inside with every pick…)

There is no question Quinn worked most of his young life toward that moment when his name would be called early in the NFL draft.

His ‘late’ selection still surpassed all those who were selected after him, and in rounds 2,3,4,5,6, and 7-- and those who played hard and well throughout their collegiate careers but were not selected at all, or even offered a free agent contract after the draft.

And Quinn’s sporting achievement surpasses those who would love to be in his shoes, but had not the talent, tenacity or support system that he had over many years.

That all said, a young athlete is sometimes wise to shun the spotlight, lessen his expectations, and when in doubt .............go fishing.

"I can't do it all by myself!"

It’s remarkable how seldom professional athletes will really and truly take responsibility for their actions and/or performance.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions when they do, the response is rather peculiar. Case in point: recent comments by Ottawa Senators defenseman Joe Corvo. Corvo said publicly he has not played up to par this season, and a newspaper headline in the Ottawa Sun thereafter read, “Corvo too honest?”

Corvo’s coach went so far as to say, “you’re always a little surprised when a player admits to lacking confidence publicly”, essentially suggesting it would have been better for Corvo not to acknowledge his poor play.

Corvo responded by saying, “Guys (athletes) are kind of programmed to say robotic responses…I don’t think I’m the first one that’s been honest.”

Compare and contrast Corvo’s honest, if uncommon, self-assessment with the recent reaction of Atlanta Falcons quarterback Michael Vick, after the Falcons finished a disappointing 7-9 and missed the NFC playoffs.

Said Vick, "I don't see how people can point the finger at me," he said. "I think I had a great season. ... I can't do it all by myself. I call myself Superman, but I really don't have the cape on my back. I can't change the game in certain situations. Sometimes I can, sometimes I can't."

He’s not the first “star” athlete to decline accepting responsibility for the performance of the team he is paid handsomely to lead. Quarterbacks in particular accept widespread acclaim when their teams achieve success but some aren’t as keen to accept any criticism that comes their way when things go off the rails.

When an athlete says, “I can’t do it all by myself…” he is sending a terrible – and likely unappreciated— message to his teammates, especially when the words come from a so-called “team leader” such as Vick.

No athlete in a team sport – not Bobby Orr, Michael Jordan or Jim Brown—won games or championships on their own. Every player on their respective teams made contributions. Orr, Jordan and Brown may have shown their true greatness by helping make the players around them better, but those players nonetheless all made valuable contributions game by game and throughout the playoffs until the championship was won.

The moment an athlete starts thinking – and goes so far as to start saying publicly – he is “doing it all by himself”, chances are he is, emotionally, “losing” the very people he needs to achieve success, his teammates.

There is a wonderful life lesson here for young athletes – and for young people in general.

The real issue is not so much, perhaps, that Vick said what he said. Rather, the problem is that he felt that way in the first place.

How could anyone who has seen teammates work in the off-season, play through injuries and do their utmost to play at the highest level in their sport, has the support and guidance of top coaches to help him prepare to be successful every day, really feel as though he is “doing it alone”.

With this story as a backdrop, aspiring elite athletes would do well to look inside themselves, and do an attitude check.

If you think you’re doing it “by yourself”, think again.

And if you truly can’t convince yourself that you are not a one-man band, for goodness sake, don’t say so out loud.

You’ll lose the respect of teammates, coaches, scouts and fans—and anyone who had an interest in your career.

The Vick quote reminds me of a similar comment made by a young NHL draft prospect several years ago, when asked by the media why his “stats” had fallen off.

He said, “If I had better linemates and been given more playing time, I would have scored more…”

In one sentence, the player essentially trashed his teammates and his coach and publicly laid blame on others for his own shortcomings.

We all understand that teenage athletes may sometimes say things they shouldn’t. No one should be that programmed.

But that player likely lost something in the minds of his teammates, coaches – and the scouts who were assessing him—when he made that comment.

If you’re a parent, you may want to encourage your child not to follow the Michael Vick approach to leadership.