Beware of Your Loyalty (Choosing Effective Relationships)
Photo by Kevin Painchaud / Lookout Santa Cruz
Sometimes I get accused of being unfair. When I talk about coaching, the language I use can rub people the wrong way because it’s… let’s say, harsh. And to those who are curious about my criticism, I say, “If you heard the stories I’ve heard, if you saw what I saw written in athletes’ tissues, you’d be asking why I don’t say worse.”
I can’t name names, but I'm saddened by the number of careers I see wasted because athletes chose loyalty over coaching efficacy. Those stories aren’t mine to tell. For one reason or another, some athletes stay with staff who keep them stagnant—or worse.
Injury statistics prove that athletes should be more skeptical of who they trust to help them. The trust between coaches, practitioners, and athletes determines the fate of athletes’ bodies, minds, and skills that keep their names on rosters. A misunderstanding can wind up being a dagger to the heart of your career—or Achilles. And even if you learn your lesson, you can’t redo the day you got hurt.
Athletes: If your teammates drop like flies, what makes you think you’re safe? Your trust should be on loan with the option to renew month after month, season after season. Your staff needs to earn it by providing you with the two things that keep you off the bench: health and performance. If they fail to give you those two ingredients, find someone who can.
Relationships are vital. I've dedicated a whole chapter to them in my forthcoming book. But to stay in this game, outcomes matter. “Trust the process” all you want, but results ink contracts and keep knees intact.
I tell my athletes, “Don’t be loyal to me if you find someone who can help you better.” My feelings and career are not their responsibility.
So, athletes: don't make yourself responsible for your coach's or clinician's emotions if you want someone better suited to help you. I know it’s easier said than done, and that you don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But people who serve athletes must deliver the only two results that matter in sports: health and performance.
Make sure you have someone who actually helps carry you to where you want to go. Progress must be evident. For example, I run two-week experiments: athletes improve in that time, or I try something else. If you’re aware enough, the body shows its adaptability.
Ideally, your coach is a great co-pilot too. She listens, asks you insightful questions, and is authentic and vulnerable. But not at the cost of your body, mind, or goals. If you want a friend, get one—or a dog.
I suppose it comes down to your values. If you prioritize loyalty over the health of your body or the stats of your career, make it a conscious and informed choice. Know the benefits and risks. But I would invite you to ask yourself one question: Are you comfortable retiring knowing you could have achieved more had you chosen a different coach?
If your coach is no longer worth his salt, but you want to keep him on board, tell him what you want from him. “I need you to figure out a different way to help my back because what you’ve given me hasn’t worked.” The coach-athlete relationship should be a two-way street. If it’s not, and you can’t fire him, find someone who’s helpful outside your club, and maybe improve your skill of ignoring.
Health and performance are problems to be solved, and they are solvable. If you're staying injured or lack the skills you need, have the hard conversation you avoid. You know the one.
Instead of blindly trusting coaches with your one career and two ACLs, interview them. When doing so, or looking for someone new, use the questions I've recently provided on the Apiros Blog, “What If My Coach Makes Me Worse?” Part 3.
You have such a short time to do the difficult things you dream of. The odds are stacked against you: countless athletes want your spot, and the schedule you must follow wants to rupture your ligaments and tendons and erode your bones.
So why gamble on who advises you?