"The
fact is, getting the right people on the bus is the first critical
step toward building a great organization of any kind."
Last spring was the
big draft. You may have heard about it.
No, I'm not referring
to the NFL draft that took place in April, or the NBA edition
in June. I'm talking about the Mustang Boys' Under-nine Soccer
draft in Danville, California. That's right. As ridiculous as
it sounds, I'm talking about eight-year-old boys, third graders,
actually getting drafted to play "competitive soccer".
And the process by which they're evaluated, rated and selected
is a sight to see.
Imagine
a soccer field surrounded by clip-board toting coaches (myself
included) who are taking detailed notes as they watch little boys
run and kick and dribble and scrimmage against one another. Afterward,
those coaches sit down around a table and take turns selecting
twelve players for their respective teams.
Luckily for me, I don't
know a great deal about soccer. I played very little of the sport
as a grade-schooler, though I've coached my sons' six and seven-year-old
teams. But to be fair, the nature of the game played by my boys'
pee wee teams more closely resembled a revolt within a prison
than it did a sporting event.
I say that I'm lucky
to be ignorant of soccer because it forced me to confront a brutal
fact: I was going to be at a distinct competitive disadvantage
when it came to assessing the technical skills of the munchkins
on my list of draftable players. You see, the other coaches in
the league have all played soccer at collegiate, professional
or semi-professional levels, and they appreciate the nuances of
the sport the way I do basketball or baseball. They are the type
of people who not only understand the off-sides rule, but actually
like it!
Anyway, to mitigate
my soccer naiveté, I made a decision that was motivated
mostly out of desperation, with a little inspiration mixed in.
In essence, I decided to completely change the criteria I would
use to evaluate and select players for my team (which, by the
way, is called The Swarm).
So, I took the official
evaluation form that was given to me before the try-outs, and
crossed out the provided category descriptions like "speed",
"field awareness", "touch" and "power",
and replaced them with others like "attitude", "hustle"
and
"skill"
and "parents". Of course, that meant I would have to
focus on observing different things than my peers would be looking
for during the tryouts.
For instance, instead
of spending most of my time looking at the players' feet, I tended
to watch how they treated one another. I wanted to see how they
responded when the instructor asked them to help move one of the
portable goals or a bag of soccer balls to the other side of the
field. I also watched the way they interacted with their parents
during breaks. Were they respectful or inattentive? And I wanted
to see how hard they played on the field. Did they only run when
the ball came to them, or did they get involved and help out on
defense?
During breaks I might
slyly approach one of the kids and ask, "Hey there Billy,
how do you like school?" or "What's your favorite subject?"
And I was looking for someone who would say, "Yeah, I like
school a lot", or "I like math, but not spelling so
much." What I didn't want was a blank stare or an answer
like "nah, the only thing I like is recess."
Anyway, when the tryouts
were over, my assistant coach (who never played or coached soccer
before) and I ranked the players from top to bottom, according
to our largely attitudinal criteria. When the draft began, we
nervously waited our turn. By the time the draft had ended, we
had picked more of our top "prospects" than we could
have imagined, and assembled a team that we felt had a very high
likelihood of being positive and coachable.
Now, don't misunderstand
this philosophy of mine for altruism or nobility. I have a competitive
streak too, and I wanted our team to be successful. Certainly,
I value character-building and fitness more than winning, but
I didn't want to field a team full of nice kids who couldn't score
goals. And I would be lying if I said we didn't pay any attention
to the basic athletic ability of the players we selected. But
those skills took a distant back seat to attitude and demeanor.
As the season approached,
my assistant coach and I wondered how much talent we had on the
team. We hoped we'd have at least one good goalie and a few natural
scorers. By the time our first practiced was upon us, we didn't
know what to expect. So we crossed our fingers, skimmed through
Soccer For Dummies, and began the season.
That was six weeks
ago. As of the writing of this article, we've played a little
less than half of our games, and a few things have become crystal
clear to us.
First, our team is
a team. They treat each other well, encourage one another, and
seek out collective attention more than individual praise. Second,
they're having fun. They don't complain about practices, and they
enjoy being together. Third, their parents are having fun. Many
of them have approached me and my assistant coach to tell us how
pleasantly surprised they are about the positive environment on
the team, and how much they enjoy being on the sideline with the
other parents.
What about the soccer?
So far, so good. We've only lost three of thirteen games,
and
we've outscored our opponents 24-7. Of course, that is not near
as important as the other factors (I have to keep reminding myself
and the other parents about that), but it's a nice confirmation
that our attitudinal approach is as viable on the field as it
is off of it. It will be interesting to see how the team handles
itself when we inevitably lose a few games in a row.
I'd like to say that
this early success of the team is a result of great coaching and
tactical training. But that just isn't the case. The fact is,
as Jim Collins points out in Good To Great, getting the
right people on the bus is the first critical step toward building
a great organization of any kind.
Once the bus is full,
then it's all about getting the right people in the right seats
(or in our case, the right players in the right positions). But
selecting the people who fit your culture, whether they are eight-year-old
soccer players, senior executives, teachers or church volunteers,
is the first critical step.
Why? Because it's a
lot easier to teach a humble, hard-working young man how to play
goalie than it is to teach a spectacular athlete how to listen
and put the team before himself. I'm guessing that applies to
the organization where you work. Not the goalie part. Well, you
know what I mean.
About
Patrick Lencioni
Patrick Lencioni's six best-selling business books have sold over
1.5 million copies. After four years in print, The Five Dysfunctions
of a Team continues to be a fixture on the Wall Street Journal
and New York Times best-seller lists. The Dysfunctions model for
teamwork has been embraced by a great variety of organizations,
ranging from the NFL to the Blue Man Group to the 82nd Airborne
to local schools and churches. Lencioni consults to organizations
like Southwest Airlines and Cox Communications and speaks to tens
of thousands of people each year. www.tablegroup.com