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Lead . . . for God's Sake!
A Parable for Finding the Heart of Leadership
Todd Gongwer
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eBook - ePub
Lead . . . for God's Sake!
A Parable for Finding the Heart of Leadership
Todd Gongwer
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If you've ever asked yourself why you do what you do, or wondered what your purpose is in life, this book is for you.
The lives of an intensely-driven basketball coach, an ultra-successful CEO, and an unassuming janitor all intersect in this captivating parable about leadership, relationships, and the pursuit of success. An unforgettable story packed with profound truths, LEAD... for God's Sake! will challenge you to think deeply about who you are as a leader, what success means to you, and why you do what you do. Whether you're leading a business, a team, or your own family, this book is the first and most important step to becoming the leader you were meant to be.
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Sujet
Theology & ReligionSous-sujet
ReligionChapter 1
The Need to Lead
LEAD, for Godâs sake!â Coach Rocker yelled, bringing his twenty-minute tirade to an end as he stormed out of the locker room and slammed the door behind him. He was at his witsâ end. This was the Knightsâ third loss in a row. And to make matters worse, it had come at the hands of cross-town rival Bishop South, a team theyâd owned since the day Coach took over the program just three short seasons ago.
After losing in the final seconds of last yearâs state championship game, expectations for the Knights were sky-high coming into the 2007 season, and with good reason. Four of the five starters from that team were back, and as seniors, this was their year. It seemed the stage was set for the perfect season. Instead, the Knights were now sitting on a record of three wins and three losses, and Coach Rocker could feel the pressure of unmet expectations beginning to mount.
As one of the most successful coaches in Kentucky high school basketball history, Coach Steve Rocker was already a legend in the state. The former sharpshooting point guard from Indiana University had taken both of his previous teams to Kentucky state championships, and prior to coming to Franklin North had compiled an overall record of 356â41 in just seventeen seasons as a head coach. Emerging from the shadow of his father, the legendary Indiana high school basketball coach Pete Rocker, Steve, at just forty-two, was well on his way to becoming one of the all-time greats in his profession.
After experiencing three sub-five-hundred seasons in a row, Kentucky powerhouse Franklin North High School had hired Coach Rocker in the summer of 2005, convinced he could bring the Knights back to the glory days. Never one to disappoint, the fiery head coach had done just that by achieving a record of 14â6 in his first season with the Knights, followed by a record of 19â4, a regional championship, and a state runner-up title in his second season. Clearly, the Knights were back. Coach Rocker was practically given the key to the city, as the people of Franklin adored their beloved Knights and anyone who contributed so positively to their success. Now, in just his third season at the helm, the state championship was clearly within reach, and the standard was set. Anything less than the title for the number-one-ranked Knights would be viewed as failure in the eyes of the Franklin community
âand in the eyes of Coach Rocker, too.Coach didnât bother stopping by his office to lock up or to discuss the game with any of his assistant coaches. Although heâd typically confer with them after a game to determine the teamâs shortcomings, as far as he was concerned, this was all about team leadership . . . or a lack thereof. There was absolutely no other excuse. The Knights had worked their tails off all summer long. They were running their offense to perfection and, with 6â 9â All-state center David Kelton filling the lane, their defense had wreaked havoc on each of their opponents . . . in the first three games of the season, that is.
Now, for some reason, they werenât getting it done anymore. The Knights looked sloppy on both ends of the floor and out of sync in virtually every aspect of the game. Something just wasnât right, and Coach Rocker was determined to get to the bottom of it immediately.
Long after most of the fans had left the building, Coach, still stinging from the loss and submerged in his own thoughts, walked down the lonely back corridor adjacent to the gymnasium on the way to his car. As he neared the large, steel door to the outside, a lone voice rang out from behind.
âHang in there, Coach. Thereâs a reason for everything.â
Startled, he turned to see who it was. All he could make out was a short, dark figure standing at the end of the hall, holding what looked like a mop in his hand. Although he wasnât certain, the short frame and the mop made it pretty easy to guess who it was, despite the darkness of the hallway. It had to be Joe Taylor, the school janitor.
Though Joe appeared to be a popular figure among the students, he was usually pretty reserved around Coach, so a relationship between the two men had never developed. Nonetheless, every once in a while, seemingly out of the blue, Joe would say something almost philosophical in nature. It would be brief, and maybe even a little bit confusing; but for some reason, it always seemed deeply meaningful.
âYeah, right, Joe . . . whatever,â Coach answered as he gave a halfhearted wave and turned to finish the walk to his car. âA reason for everything . . . what the heck is that supposed to mean?â he mumbled to himself.
As he made the thirty-minute drive home through the hills of eastern Kentucky, Coach continued to seethe. Questions flooded his mind. What was wrong with his team? Why did his guys not understand how important these games were? Why did they seem so clueless about leadership? Why did they just not care about winning as much as he did? Was it laziness, complacency, overconfidence?
Whatever it was, there was no excuse for it, and he was determined to make them pay. No team of his was going to lose like this ever again. Besides, they needed to understand these lessons to be successful later in life. If you donât pursue your goals with passion, how can you expect to ever make it to the top, regardless of what youâre striving for? Deep in thought, he continued the drive through the lonely darkness of the Kentucky countryside.
Eventually, his mind shifted to considering options for the next dayâs practice. Maybe we shouldnât even pick up a ball? Weâll just get between the lines and run, and do defensive drills. Yep, back to basics. If these guys donât hate losing enough to work harder than they have been during games, Iâll teach âem to hate what happens in practice when they donât! Heâd seen it work before, so he was confident it would work again. He would ratchet the intensity up big time as a wake-up call they all desperately needed to hear.
As Coach pulled up to his house, he noticed Brandon, his ten-year-old son shooting baskets on the dimly lit court off to the side of the driveway. Shorter than most of his friends, Brandon was a true chip off the old block, both in stature and attitude. What he lacked in size he made up for with his determination, relentlessly pursuing his dream of following in his dadâs footsteps to become a basketball superstar.
âHey, Dad! Sorry about the loss . . . Wanna play me in one-on-one?â Brandon asked, hoping to cheer him up a bit.
âSorry, Brandon, Dadâs got to get some things done tonight before tomorrowâs practice. You keep working on your game so your team never does what ours did tonight. Bunch of lazy punks . . .â he muttered, closing the door to the house behind him.
Brandon was used to this answer, so he shrugged it off pretty easily. He knew how important winning was to his dad, so anytime the Knights lost, Brandon normally stayed clear. Not sure why heâd even asked, Brandon went back to his routine of counting down the seconds to the end of the state championship game, dribbling through defenders, and hitting the shot at the buzzer. In jubilation, Brandon would jump around, imagining the fans swarming him while his dad proudly embraced him. State champs at last. That was his dream.
But now, back to reality. Even though his dadâs not spending time with him was tough to take, he knew Coach had to work hard to produce winning teams, so heâd learned not to make a big deal about it. Besides, when Dadâs team won, he was always in a good mood. And since he won most of the time, all was usually well
âso well, in fact, that Coach Rocker was frequently being interviewed on the nightly news or written about in articles. People seemed to know him everywhere they went. It was cool having everyone worship his dad because of his basketball success. It was also cool to live in a great neighborhood in a big house. So, despite his disappointments, Brandon had learned that the lack of time with his dad was the price he had to pay for all the other great things that came with his success.Once inside the house, Coach headed straight for his favorite stewing spot, the den, to begin the breakdown of the previous gameâs film. Almost immediately upon settling into his chair with his notebook in hand, the phone rang. It was Grant Steffin, Coach Rockerâs favorite golfing buddy. Grant lived in a beautiful home just down the street and was the CEO of Cybelcom, one of the fastest-growing companies in the region. Before that, the Ivy League-educated business whiz had founded his own software company, which was eventually bought out by Cybelcom in the late nineties. After just three years as a division president for Cybelcom, the board recognized Grantâs uncanny ability to lead and handed him the reins of the entire organization. Grant exuded confidence, and with his athletic build and thick, dark hair, he even looked the part of a leader. He truly seemed to have it all. If anyone knew about leadership or how to win, it was Grant Steffin.
âHey, Coach. Thought you might be up for a beer,â Grant said in his normal upbeat tone. âI know the loss is eatinâ away at ya, so I thought Iâd offer my counsel . . . along with a cold beverage, of course.â
Coach could rarely turn down the opportunity to hang out with Grant, especially feeling like he was. So, despite the late hour, he accepted the invitation, jumped up from his chair, and headed for the door.
âRunninâ over to Grantâs for a few!â he yelled, slipping into his jacket.
Kathy, Coachâs wife, was upstairs putting Kylee, their six-year-old daughter, to bed. She popped her head out from the bedroom doorway and shot him a disgusted look. Coach knew what she was thinking, but at this point, he didnât really care. He had more important things to worry about than a nagging wife. Shrugging it off, he walked out the door and headed across the backyard, following his normal shortcut to Grantâs place.
Chapter 2
The Good Life
Greeting him at the front door with his typical handshake and encouraging pat on the shoulder, Grant invited Coach in. As the two men walked through Grantâs house, Coach glanced, with a bit of envy, at the mammoth entertainment center in the great room. One hundred and two inches of pure HD bliss, complete with the sound-system equivalent of an IMAX movie theater. Must be nice, he thought to himself. Making their way toward the basement, they passed additional telltale signs of Grantâs success. From the diamond-patterned marble floors, to the rare works of art, to the pictures of Grant with all the whoâs who in Kentucky scattered throughout the house, it was easy to see Grant was the epitome of success.
As the men settled into the bar in Grantâs basement, Grant pulled two cold brews from the fridge. After setting one in front of Coach, he twisted the cap off his own and sat down beside his friend.
âTough one tonight, huh?â asked Grant.
âYeah, thatâs an understatement,â Coach replied. âThe guys just donât get it. No matter how many times we go over things, or how much we reiterate our goals for this season, they still donât get it. I donât understand it. We work harder than anyone else in our district. I work harder than any coach in the state
âmaybe in the country. On top of that, we have arguably more talent than anyone else in the state. The only thing we donât have is leadership on the team. But Iâm gonna change that tomorrow.ââLeadership . . . huh. I feel your pain, my friend,â sighed Grant as he mindlessly played with the label on his beer bottle. âThatâs the biggest challenge with my team, too.â
âReally?â asked Coach with a look of disbelief.
âYep, constantly have to stay on âem to get anything done, much less get anything done right.â
Coach wondered if Grant was just yanking his chain to make him feel better. âAre you serious? With all your success, I wouldâve thought your people would follow you over a cliff if youâd ask âem to.â
âYeah right; I wish it were that easy. Remember, the boneheads I have to deal with every day at work are the parents of the boneheads youâre dealing with every day in the gym. The only difference is, yours are worried about girls and cars, while mine are worried about families and 401ks. Come to think of it, maybe they arenât so different after all.â
For the first time that evening, Coach managed to crack a smile. âSo what do you do to get your leaders to lead?â
âWell, as of late, nothing seems to work. But I can tell you that in the past, Iâve always relied on the only thing that really works in business: the almighty dollar. Thatâs why people come to work in the first place. Ask anyone. Theyâll tell you flat-out, âgotta make ends meet.ââ
Coach nodded in agreement as he took a swig of his beer.
âOf course, in todayâs society âmaking ends meetâ means a lot more than just putting food on the table for the family. Seems everybodyâs got to have a couple of nice cars, a nice home, all the best video games for the kids . . . Itâs a lot more than mere survival these days.â
âSo, I guess thatâs a good thing, right?â asked Coach. âI mean, as long as people are caught up trying to get all those nice things, they should stay really motivated for you.â
âYouâd think so, but it doesnât always work that way. Because eventually, they always want more, regardless of how much you give âem. Itâs never enough money, or insurance, or promotions, or time off
âyou name it, itâs never enough. So thatâs when you have to kick their tails. And believe me, Iâve had to do a lot of that in the last few months trying to get people to do their jobs.â Grant shook his head, frustrated at the thought of his plight.âOf course, when that doesnât work either, you have to just cut âem loose . . . with no regrets. You know, send a message. But thatâs the name of the game. If you canât run with the big dogs, you gotta stay on the porch.â
âI hear that,â said Coach.
Grant continued confidently, âIn business, the bottom line really is the bottom line. And the only way to really succeed is to manage that obsessively. We all have to play our role. If I want to be successful, I have to make lots of money for our shareholders, âcause in the end, itâs their money thatâs on the line if we lose. And if we lose, they lose . . . and if they lose, I get axed. Itâs just that simple. So the only way for me to be sure that people are doing what theyâre supposed to be doing is to stay on top of âem. I reward âem well, but I also push âem big time. They have to know, if they screw up, thereâll be hell to pay.â
Grant stood up and walked over to the dartboard hanging on the wall. He picked up a piece of chalk off the tray under the scoreboard hanging next to it. Somewhat flippantly, he drew a stick figure in the middle of the scoreboard. Then, over the left hand of the stick figure, he drew what looked like a bag of treasure, and over the right hand he drew a small hatchet. He turned back toward Coach, who was now sitting at the bar with a bewildered look on his face.
âCoach, leadership in its simplest form is influence. In business, sports, or whatever, youâre constantly either influencing or being influenced in some way or another. So, as a person in a formal position of leadership, itâs critical that I understand what most powerfully influences or moves my people to action. You know, what makes people do what they do. And as I see it, there are really only two things: fear and rewards. As a leader, you control these two things. Youâre always holding the treasure in one hand and the hatchet in the other.â Grant pointed to the bag of treasure and the hatchet heâd just drawn on the chalk scoreboard.
âNow, you have to choose to use whichever one of these methods works best for you to make sure the job is g...