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Communication:
A Two-Way Street

“Nature has given us two ears, two eyes, and but one tongue—to the end, we should hear and see more than we speak.”

—SOCRATES (469–399 B.C.)

 

 

When making a speech, experience taught me to do my homework—knowing my subject is obvious. What’s easy to overlook is the importance of knowing your audience. Keep in mind that what you say and how you say it will differ according to whom you say it.

For example, you’d speak differently to a group of teenagers than to an audience of senior citizens, even on the same subject. And a pep talk in a locker room wouldn’t be the same as an inspirational speech in a church sanctuary. You must “read” your audience. No two audiences are the same, any more than two people are identical. The kind of audience you are addressing determines everything from the content of the message to your delivery.

With a mother who was a dedicated schoolteacher, Jon Gruden was exposed to effective speaking at an early age. “I learned a great deal from the way my mom communicated with her students,” he says. “She knew that every child in the classroom does not learn at the same level. Children’s ability to comprehend varies according to their development, their family backgrounds, and a whole lot of other circumstances. To get through to all her students, she had to recognize their differences and teach by catering to their individual needs. The way she did this was by putting aside quality one-on-one time with each child. How else could she know what motivated a student to learn? I try to do the same thing. I want to know each of my players as an individual. Nobody wants to be known as just some generic guy.

“In any field, you constantly deal with people from different walks of life, different family backgrounds, different cultures. As a head coach, my job is to make sure every man is on board and ready to play at his best on Sunday. People respond to different motivations, and I’ve got to be able to understand what those are with each player. I have to push the right buttons.”

“Jon doesn’t want to put a player in a position where he might not excel with a given play,” says Mark Arteaga, the head coach’s assistant in charge of football operations. “He’ll put a certain running back in for a play. He’ll put a certain fullback in, a certain tight end, a certain receiver to run a particular route. Jon will make them feel, ‘This play is just for me. The coach is working for me. He’s trying to help me.’

“Jon tells them all the time, ‘I want you to make millions of dollars. I want you to be good at what you do. I want you to be the best. Helping you do that is my job as head coach.’

“During the first few practices under Gruden, the players and coaches shook their heads, laughing to themselves because he was so intense. When they first saw him in action on the practice field, they were in shock when he called players out when they did something he didn’t like. He got on them. He kept correcting them. But when they did it right, he loved them and he put his arms around them.

“When somebody didn’t do it right, he let them know and everyone on the field could hear it. He showed no bias. ‘What in the hell are you doing?’ he’d shout. ‘That’s not what we went over in the meeting. Back on the ball and do it again.’ Then they’d run the play again. ‘Now that’s what we’re talking about. That’s what we’re looking for.’ He got on them when they did it wrong and he explained the right way. And again he put his arms around them for doing it right.

“When a player saw Jon’s passion and intensity, he knew the coach was trying to make him better, and if the individual gets better, the unit gets better, and the team gets better. Everyone understood that, and nobody resented Jon for getting on his case. The coach will call you out. He will expose you. However, he’s not doing it to ridicule, criticize, or embarrass you. He just wants to take your game to the next level. Consequently, he’s always in the back of your mind, and you’re thinking, ‘How would Jon want me to get this done? How should I do it?’ ”

Garrett Giemont, considered one of the NFL’s top strength and conditioning coaches, joined the Buccaneers in 2003 after an eight-year hitch with the Oakland Raiders. Having worked with Gruden for four years in Oakland, Giemont has high praise for what he believes makes Gruden special as a leader. “His passion and endless energy separate him from any head coach I’ve been around,” Giemont says. “Combine that with high intelligence, and when Gruden speaks, he truly knows what he’s talking about. Nobody, absolutely nobody, debates this about him. Now, with all his knowledge, he is also a sensational communicator. Not only does he have a gift for speaking—he was a communications major—but the bottom line is he captivates his audiences.

“I liken Gruden to San Francisco Giants Hall of Fame pitcher Juan Marichal, who had many deliveries in his arsenal,” continues Giemont. “Born in the Dominican Republic, Marichal would say in a thick Latin accent, ‘I throw fast ball. I throw curve ball. I throw slider, knuckle ball. I throw palm ball, I throw change-up. But I throw it from here, here, here, and here.’ The guy had 60 different pitches. Jon does too. He has many deliveries that he uses like Marichal—to fit the occasion. Jon has a matter-of-fact delivery. He has a little humor behind his delivery. He’s got a kick-’em-in-the-ass delivery. He’s got all kinds of deliveries in his arsenal, depending on who he’s talking to, and he fits it to the individual.

“This is where God touched Jon on the forehead and gave him a gift. He gave him a presence so when he walks in a room, everyone knows it,” Giemont explains. “As we say in this business, you can’t coach that. You either got it or you don’t got it! And that’s what sets Jon Gruden apart from so many other coaches and from a hell of a lot of other people.”

Giemont points out that Gruden excels at reading people, a faculty that allows him to communicate differently with each player, depending on the circumstance. “For instance, he talks differently to a star player than he does to a rookie,” Giemont explains. “He’ll do it out of respect to an individual who plays the game at a high level, someone with a strong work ethic who brings passion and knowledge to the table, day in and day out. At the same time, if somebody needs to be chewed out—if he has it coming—Jon isn’t shy about reading the riot act to him. But he has a way of doing it so he doesn’t offend the guy. That’s because the guy knows he deserves it, and Jon is doing it for him and for the welfare of the team. The players have such respect for him that they don’t resent it—and me personally, I love it. And anyone else worth his salt should love it too.”

Being able to read people, Gruden is one of those people who always seem to say the right thing at the right time. He has savoir-faire. Something that would offend if said by someone else, Gruden can get away with. This, I believe, is a special knack that certain people develop over time. It’s the result of exposure—a lot of it. Yet some people never get the hang of it.

Mike Sherman also excels at reading people. It’s likely he developed this skill during his days as a teacher. He understands the importance of communicating with people at different levels because everyone is different. “The key is knowing how to reach each individual,” Sherman explains. “Being an educator, I realize some guys learn better one way than another. For example, one player might do better by watching film. Someone else might see it better when it’s physically demonstrated to him. This guy requires one-on-one instruction. Another learns better when taught in a group. And there is somebody else who needs to see it on paper. There are many ways to communicate with people, so you have to figure out what works best with each person. Consider too that while some people respond well to humor, some guys don’t even have a sense of humor.”

The people around Coach Sherman repeatedly say that one of his best attributes is his ability to sit down one-on-one with people. “He’s a very good listener,” says Susan Broberg, his administrative assistant. “The coach works hard to get to know his players, coaches, staff people, everyone. When you sit down with him, he makes you feel what you have to say is important and he respects your point of view. I’ve seen players go into his office with animosity, and when they leave, they’re beaming. When I ask the coach what caused the big turnabout, he says, ‘You know, Susan, when you get to know someone as a person, and you’re honest with him, that usually will solve 90 percent of the problems.’ In my opinion, Coach Sherman is the best at reading people I’ve ever known.”

Vince Lombardi was bull-necked, gap-toothed, and had a voice that roared. Plus he had an explosive temper. Like the Green Bay coaching legend, Andy Reid looks every bit the part. Looks, however, are deceiving. Reid may look like he doesn’t care one iota for you, but he does. Very much. So much, in fact, everyone around him knows that Reid truly cares about them. They see it in his eyes. He has a softness in his voice that lets them know he cares. This is what makes him a superb communicator—his sincere interest in people.

“Andy Reid is a master at figuring out what your psyche is,” says head trainer Rick Burkholder, one of the most respected in his profession. “I’ve never seen anyone work at it to the extent he does. I was an assistant athletic trainer with the Steelers for six years, and I came here just a few weeks after Andy in ’99. As the team’s head trainer, one of my tasks is doing rehab work with injured players. Working for long stretches at a time with players, I get to know them very well and from a different perspective than the coaches. I also get feedback about players from the team’s 24 part-time physicians, who report to me. Andy constantly seeks my input to learn more about this or that player, always wanting to know what makes him tick.

“ ‘What do you think about so-and-so?’ Andy will ask me. ‘Do I have to stand on his head? What do you think?’ I’ll give him my opinion, and then he’ll ask the same question of a sports psychologist who works with the players. Then he’ll ask the position coach, and one or two of my assistants. He keeps gathering information on people until he feels he fully understands them. Only then does he do anything. He’s not an overreactive guy. He takes his time before he finalizes his thoughts.

“The other day we had a sports psychiatrist here, and Andy said to me, ‘Get this guy with so-and-so, a new player.’

“ ‘Why? What’s wrong with him?’ I asked.

“ ‘Nothing.’

“ ‘Then why do you want the psychiatrist talking to him?’

“ ‘Because I don’t know him. I want to know him. I want to know what he’s about.’

“Now very few coaches that I have ever met will go to this length to know their players,” Burkholder adds. “Some coaches have an informer in the organization who keeps them abreast of what the players are thinking. Andy doesn’t need an informer because he constantly uses everyone in the organization to find out everything about everybody. His motive is pure. He wants to get everyone going in the right direction. If anyone has a beef, he wants to sit down with that person so he can nip it in the bud.”

When it comes to knowing what’s going on within the Eagles organization, Andy Reid is on top of everything. You might think of him as a “control freak,” but Reid describes himself as a “mother hen.” In addition to getting feedback from his coaches, he has several veteran players who act as informal coaches, and they too keep him aware of what the players are jawing about in the locker room.

To enhance communication, one of the first things Andy Reid did when he came to Philadelphia was to remodel the team meeting room in the basement of the old Veterans Stadium. Previously it was an L-shaped room, and when a speaker addressed the team, the defensive players and offensive players sat on opposite sides. Consequently, only the speaker could see both sides of the L by turning his head toward one or the other. When Reid eliminated that division, he had the room spruced up: fresh paint here, carpeting there, a green stripe down the walls, and so on. “With the wall removed, I could see everyone’s reaction at the same time when I stood in front of my audience. Somebody should have knocked out that wall a long time ago.”

 

 

 

GREAT LEADERS CONSTANTLY COMMUNICATE WITH their people. In Tom Peters’ In Search of Excellence, a record-breaking bestseller business book in the 1980s, Peters called it Management by Walking Around (MBWA). He challenged business leaders to come down from their ivory towers and spend time with assembly line workers in the factories, meet with office workers at their workstations, and call on customers in the field. Get to know them individually. Listen to what they have to say. I agree with Peters. A majority of problems can be solved simply by going to your internal people and listening to what they tell you. Millions of dollars in fees from outside consultants can be saved. That’s because most solutions are out there with your people. But you have to go to them and hear them out.

Don’t wait for people to come to you with problems. Be proactive. When there’s a problem, strong leaders anticipate it. Whereas most people are reactive and wait for a problem before they react, strong leaders act beforehand, thereby preventing the problem from happening!

“When I was being interviewed for head coach,” John Fox says, “management told me they were looking for someone with top communication skills. Well, some things don’t come natural to me and I have to work on them. But one of my strengths is my ability to communicate with people. It comes naturally to me. I spend a lot of time with the players. I’m not a head coach that sits up here in his office and gives orders to people. You won’t find me here very often. I’m a hands-on guy with my people. Look for me in the locker room, the weight room, or the ticket office. I’m constantly out there communicating with our people. At summer camp, I have breakfast early in the morning with the team. I don’t sit at the coaches’ table. I sit at a different table every day, and by the end of camp, I’ve had meals with everyone on the team. I constantly talk to my players. I go out of my way to stop someone walking by so I can talk to him. I say things to push their buttons. Because this is what’s going to determine success or failure.”

Jon Gruden understands the importance of getting down in the trenches with his people. During practice sessions, he instructs his team not only from the sidelines, he’s out there on the playing field with the players. When Gruden first arrived in Tampa, the Bucs had already established themselves as one of the NFL’s best defense teams. The team’s offense, however, was lagging. So during his first week at training camp, in scrimmages, Gruden coached the offensive players by getting in their huddle with them. Going up against such All-Pro players as defensive tackle Warren Sapp and defensive safety John Lynch, Gruden might not appear as smart as he was billed. It’s not that he chooses to be on the losing side. It’s just that his mission—to get the offense up to par with the defense—is no small feat. So there Gruden was—in the middle of the offensive team’s huddle, screaming and shouting, working in overdrive to fire up the players. “Okay, guys, let’s keep ripping their asses,” he shouts.

Later in the film room with the defensive unit, he told them, “I’m watching film on how to isolate number 47 (Lynch) in this first minicamp, and I tell you, the first time you come on that weakside free-safety blitz, I’m going to buzz a slant right by your f——ing head. You won’t know what hit you!”

 

 

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MIKE HOLMGREN GETS FEEDBACK FROM a players’ committee he set up to assure open communications. “Six players serve on it,” he explains. “I personally pick them and I try to have an equal number of defensive players and offensive players, if I can. They’re not the same players every year. The committee lets me know what the players are thinking. Sometimes a player has a beef I consider more fluff than substance. But through the committee, I find out if it truly is a big deal and this allows me to address it differently. Of course, everyone in the organization knows my door is always open. However, not all players feel comfortable coming to my office. They’d rather talk to the committee or a committee member, somebody who’s a peer.”

Because the nation’s most notable leaders were exceptional orators, getting an audience fired up is often associated with great leadership. Since Abraham Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg Address, America’s most memorable speech, millions of schoolchildren have put it to memory. Franklin D. Roosevelt inspired the nation in 1931 with his immortal words, “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”

On May 5, 1961, John Kennedy challenged the nation to achieve what was long considered an impossible dream. The young president said, “I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the Earth.” Kennedy boldly added, “No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space; and none will be so difficult or expensive to accomplish.”

Martin Luther King Jr.’s 1963 speech, “I Have a Dream,” became the battle cry for the civil rights movement in this country. Eloquence of great leaders can indeed alter the course of civilization. Business leaders with exceptional speaking skills can also fire up their people to tackle difficult challenges. Often, the presentation of a plan is what inspires a workforce to buy into it. I’d rather have a mediocre plan that people are excited about than a great plan that isn’t supported. Remember, it’s not only what you say it, but how you say it.

Jon Gruden recognizes the value of a spectacular presentation. He explains: “We have a prepared game plan for each Sunday, and it would be easy to just pass it out. But that wouldn’t work. I’ve got to present our plays on the board during the week, and I’ve got to make those plays come to life. To do it right, I can’t get up there and drift through the installation of a game plan. I have to work at it all Monday night and all Tuesday night, and when they come in here on Wednesday morning, I’ve got to dazzle them. I want them to be excited about the upcoming performance.

“ ‘This is the greatest play in this plan!’ I tell them. And then when I get to the next picture, I tell them, ‘This one is even better! If this play is called, it will score!’ I say with enthusiasm and conviction. I’ll show them a film that presents vivid examples of why it is going to work, and why it will be great. Hopefully, I build their confidence and they’ll feel the same way I do. I’ve got to sell it to them, so when they go out to practice it, they believe in it, and they know when we call this play, we are together with it.

“We’re no different than these fishing captains down here in Florida. You get the bait, you study the fish, you take your crew out there where you know the fish are biting, and you say, ‘Let’s go get them! Let’s catch a bunch of them!’ It’s all about the presentation.”

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

MUSIC IS ANOTHER OF THE tools Gruden uses to communicate with his players. He’s been known to put on a player’s headset to hear the music the player listens to. Sometimes, he’ll use a lyric from a song to connect with a player. What do players think when they hear their head coach talking about Dr. Dre, Bon Jovi, Earth, Wind and Fire, or Prince? It means a lot to them. They’ve never been around a head coach who knows their music. Most important, Gruden understands their culture. He’s in tune with their music and their movies and he can relate to them like no other great coach ever did. That lets players know that Gruden cares about them enough to learn their interests. As hectic as his work schedule is, he listens to their music.

Young players on the team love it when Gruden raps with them. I’d be surprised if any other head coach in the NFL can match him in this area. Evidently he finds time to watch MTV, although nobody is quite sure how he manages to do it. He’ll even dub in a Biggie and Tupac song into game films. What does this do? It sends a message: “Hey, I’m one of you guys, and while I might be your head coach, I could get down with the best of you.”

Gruden grew up with AC/DC. That’s his rock group. He is still young enough to think back to his youth and recognize what young people want. He understands their love for music, and out of respect to them, he takes the time to learn it. Then, he’ll hit them with a few lines he picked up in a movie, or a recording, and they look at him in amazement. It puts him on their wavelength. Or, as they say on the street, “You’ve got to feel the pulse.” It’s no different when the senior manager of a big company wants to relate to his workers on the assembly line. He has to approach them at a level where they feel comfortable. He can’t dress in a $2,000 suit, be driven to the plant in a chauffeured limousine, and walk the line with an entourage of pin-striped executives and expect workers to feel comfortable with him. Or to open up to him. There is no way this manager will feel the pulse of his people. He’s not on the same wavelength.

To relate to people, you should discuss subjects that interest them. Do this and you’ll get their attention. One of the Eagles’ assistant coaches overheard a telephone conversation Andy Reid was having with his teenage daughter. “What do you think about Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake? I hear they broke up today.” Knowing that Reid works long hours, the assistant was impressed. So was I. I’d be surprised if Reid ever heard Spears’s or Timberlake’s music. But that’s not the point. He took the time to know something of interest to his daughter. That impressed me.

 

 

 

OUTSTANDING SPEAKERS ARE GOOD STORYTELLERS. I used the same technique when I taught history. I constantly wove anecdotal material into my lectures to make them come alive. Two teachers can teach the same history course—one will put his students to sleep, the other will stimulate them. Good nonfiction writers must do the same thing or their writing reads like a textbook. President Ronald Reagan, known as the Great Communicator, was a master storyteller. Professional speakers who are paid tens of thousands of dollars for a speech also use this technique. They do it to hold their audiences’ attention, to entertain them. As a history teacher, I worked hard to make my classes entertaining. I used analogies to make history fun to learn. It’s inexcusable for an educator to bore students! I constantly told my students, “History is an everyday event. Live it. Learn it. Enjoy it.”

Jon Gruden is one of the all-time best storytellers. Plus, his stories are hilarious. Some of his stories make the players and coaches laugh so hard, they have to hold their sides. “An amusing made-up story is often a way to get a point across, so I constantly speak with analogies.” Gruden explains. “For instance, a player was late for an appointment with our head athletic trainer, Todd Toriscelli. Todd stands five feet, six inches, and while he’s actually from Steubenville, Ohio, I told them an outlandish story about how he and I were buddies as kids. ‘You may not know this. I grew up with Todd, and our mothers, who were from Kentucky, took us there where we spent our summers. His mom would make us delicious ham sandwiches. Man, they were good! Now I don’t want to get sidetracked so let me tell you a quick story about Todd. I was 11, and Todd was 13, at the time when we were playing on opposite Little League teams. Well, he comes to bat and I’m the pitcher. I was one helluva Little League pitcher. Man, I was dominant. I was the Sandy Koufax of the entire league. Players were petrified to get into the batter’s box when I was on the mound. I was awesome. When I pitched, large crowds came to the game. People talked about how I’d someday be in the majors. It was just a matter of time. Let’s get back to Todd now. He was only this big and he steps to the plate. He’s shaking. I whiz the ball right by him and I strike him out. He never even got the bat off his shoulders. Or to amuse myself, I’d bean him. Boy, did he get mad! Made him cry. All summer. I’d either strike him out or get him with my beanball.

“ ‘Now Todd’s grown up and he’s your full-time trainer. Some of you dorks are coming late for treatment. So what does Todd do? He’s throwing pills at me, and I don’t like it. So get your ass in here and be on time ‘cause I’m tired of having Todd take out his anger on me.’ I was on a roll, and I kept going on and on, talking about Todd and me growing up together. Of course, everyone knew it was all fabricated, but they are loving it. And do you know what? I got my message across. After that outlandish story, the players stopped being late for their appointments with Todd.”

Mike Sherman also likes to mix business with humor. This is evidenced by what Sherman does during a time that is otherwise serious business: game films reviews by players and coaches. Emulating his former boss, Mike Holmgren, Sherman has taken “film editing” to another level. For example, one night during a recent meeting at summer camp, everyone had assembled to watch a film. Standing at the head of the class with his back toward the screen, Sherman somberly announced, “It’s been brought to my attention that some of you don’t fully grasp the importance of the team meetings conducted during camp. It appears that certain individuals are of the opinion that the only thing that matters is what happens in the weight room and on the practice field. So to emphasize the importance of attending these meetings, we have prepared a film to show you that there is a right way and a wrong way to conduct yourself. The right way is to sit up, pay attention, take notes, ask questions, and so on. All of this will be demonstrated in this film we will show you. You will also learn the wrong way from some bad examples that appear in this film.”

When the camera rolled, two of the younger players appeared on the screen. Rod Walker, a 320-pound defensive tackle, served as the good example. Wide receiver Robert Ferguson served as a bad example. Walker wore a three-button suit, tie, and bifocal glasses. In the film, Walker entered the room and immediately turned off his cell phone, sat up straight in his chair, and took out a notebook to take notes. He raised his hand and politely asked questions of the coach in the film. Then the camera focused on Ferguson. He was wearing a headphone and listening to rap music. A bottle of Jack Daniel’s was sticking out his back pocket. He sat slouched in his chair, and his cell phone went off. He took brief naps, and inside his playbook was a hidden copy of Playboy. Throughout the film, the camera alternated between good example, bad example, good example, bad example. Roars of laughter began to fill the room.

Editing the film got even more creative when a scene from the 1999 movie Life was dubbed in. In Life, Eddie Murphy and Martin Lawrence play two small-time con men sentenced to life in prison for a murder they did not commit. In the movie, Murphy and Lawrence are seated at a long table in the prison’s cafeteria, and Murphy wants to let the other prisoners know how tough he and Lawrence are.

Talking real bad, he says in a loud voice so all the prisoners can hear him, “We went on a minor killing streak all around the country. Killing people. All month, man. You all read about it in the papers. Sometimes you got to do certain shit. Just enough to let people know that you go where you need to go, to get it done. You push my button, there’s no telling what I may do. Stab you. Choke you. Bite you. . . . You press the wrong button . . .”

Then, in the same scene, the camera had a close-up shot of a huge, 350-plus-pound prisoner (who bears a strong resemblance to Rod Walker) who shouts to the Lawrence character, “You gonna eat your cornbread?”

“You talking to me?” Lawrence asks.

“Yeah, he’s talking to you,” Murphy says.

“No, not at all. I want you to have it. Would you mind passing this down to—”

“No,” Murphy says, “don’t pass your cornbread to him. . . . That’s your cornbread.”

“Hey, I’m a grown man,” Lawrence says. “Okay, I’m not gonna eat this cornbread. If he wants the cornbread, he can have it.”

“If he wants the cornbread, let him go up to the front and get his own portion of cornbread. That’s your cornbread. Hey, man, he’s gonna eat his cornbread.”

“I don’t need you to take up for me. I’m all right. I’m a grown man. I can handle this,” Lawrence says. “I’ll give him my cornbread.”

“If you let him have your cornbread,” Murphy says, “you’re going to be ironing his drawers and clipping his toenails.”

“I ain’t gonna be ironing—”

“Maybe I ought to eat your cornbread,” the big prisoner says to Murphy.

Throughout the film, the camera cuts back and forth to the Robert Walker look-alike and the real Robert Walker. There would be Walker dressed in his pin-striped suit, talking earnestly about etiquette, and then his look-alike wearing prison garb. Each time the prisoner’s image came in view, the players split a gut laughing hysterically. Ever since, it’s an insider Packers joke that when somebody starts talking tough, another player will say, “Hey man, stop your cornbreading.”

After Tampa Bay won Super Bowl XXXVII, football experts were predicting that the team was destined to become a dynasty under Jon Gruden. It didn’t turn out that way. The Buccaneers struggled throughout the 2003 season. Going into the final stretch of the season with a 5-7 record and playing away at New Orleans, Gruden delivered an impassioned speech to his players the night before the game. “I saw the movie Elf with my boys,” he said very seriously, “and I found out that Santa’s sleigh runs on spirit. It doesn’t run on gas and it doesn’t run on just deer. It runs on spirit.” Although he did his best to keep a straight face, he burst out laughing. So did the players. His humor had a calming feeling. On Sunday, the Buccaneers beat the Saints 14-7. In the world of business, humor can be an excellent antidote to ease tension. I think humor works particularly well in formal settings to break the ice whereas too much pomp and circumstance puts people on edge. So come down off your high horse and stop taking yourself or your business so seriously.

When Gruden is onstage, he tells hilarious stories and throws out rapid one-liners with such velocity, his audiences are spellbound. Indeed, he is one of the most entertaining persons I have ever met. In fact, each of the four other coaches also has a good sense of humor, and like Gruden, each uses it intermittently to relieve stress and to prevent monotony. Andy Reid can be whimsical; however, it’s unlikely you’ll see anyone bust a gut during an Eagles team meeting. Also a gifted storyteller, he’s more witty, kind of folksy. A vintage Andy Reid line epitomizes his dry humor. It’s a one-liner that came at the end of a team meeting on Saturday night prior to the Eagles’ traditional dinner the night before a Sunday game. The meals are served buffet style and there’s plenty of good food—steaks, hams, chicken, roast beef, hamburgers, and cheeseburgers. Nobody ever goes away hungry—and some of those big linemen have tremendous appetites. On this particular night, at the end of his talk, Reid wrapped it up by saying, “That’s it. Come on, guys, I’ll buy you a cheeseburger.”

The players liked his cheeseburger line so much, it’s become Reid’s signature line, and inevitably at the end of a team talk, he says, “I’ll treat you to a cheeseburger.” And if he doesn’t say it, the players are disappointed and somebody will say, “Hey, Coach, aren’t you going to treat us to a cheeseburger?”

“Right. Come on, guys, I’ll buy you a cheeseburger.” A humble man, Reid is able to laugh at himself, an endearing trait that adds to his charm. Fans in Philadelphia are notorious for taunting other teams, and when their beloved Eagles are struggling, the crowd is prone to turn its anger toward the team and, in particular, the head coach. Butch Buchanico, who heads the Eagles’ security department, recalls a time when he was escorting his boss through a rambunctious crowd following a hard-fought game that the Eagles lost in the final minutes. Among a lot of cursing and booing, one fan shouted at Reid, but the coach couldn’t clearly hear it.

“What did he say to me?” Reid asked Buchanico.

“Forget it. It was nothing,” Buchanico answered in a quiet voice, reluctant to offend Reid.

Reid picked up on the tone in Buchanico’s voice. “You heard it, didn’t you? It was something about cheesesteak, wasn’t it?”

“If you have to know, Coach, the man said, ‘Hey Andy, it looks like you’ve been eating too many Philadelphia cheesesteaks.’ ”

“Hey, I’ve never heard that one before. I like it. It’s a good one. I’ll have to remember it,” Reid chuckled. “You know, Butch, I’ve really got to do something about this gut,” he said, patting his stomach.

Andy had every reason to blow a fuse after a tough loss that Sunday, but that’s not his style. Instead, he laughed at what was meant to be an insulting remark. That’s the kind of guy he is. His self-deprecating humor has won the hearts and respect of this entire organization.

Gruden will use an anecdote to motivate the team. “It gets boring to simply say, ‘We’ve got to play good defense and we’ve got to play good offense. And, oh, yes, we’ve got to have good special teams. And remember, we can’t fumble.’ So after getting our butts kicked three times in a row by the Eagles in Philadelphia, I told a story about home run hitter Barry Bonds. ‘When I was living in California, I went to a San Francisco Giants game. The first time he goes to the plate, Bonds gets struck out looking. Second time up, he sawed off a little pop-up to the catcher. The third time, he strikes out again. Fourth time up, it’s the eighth inning. What do you think Barry Bonds does? You think he takes his cuts. You think he takes a swing at the ball? You’re damn right he does! He knocked that ball into the ocean—530 feet. Take your cuts. Get the bat off your shoulder. Hit these people. It’s possible. You have it in you.’

“Then another time,” Gruden continues, “I talked about the time I saw Tiger Woods in a golf tournament. ‘Man, he’s got good-looking broads at every hole. They’re all going after Tiger, trying to distract him. Then there are racist bigots everywhere, trying to bring him down. The competition is fierce. Tiger is under all kinds of pressure. You know what he does? He birdies every hole. Shoots a 64. All you see is his fist pumping. He’s not distracted. He’s a pro. A stud. He’s a mentally tough guy. It’s possible. You have it in you.”

Gruden’s messages are entertaining as well as informative. When you hear him, it takes less than a New York minute to know that on the subject of football Jon Gruden is a maven. His vast knowledge wins the respect of his audience. His delivery is captivating. When he speaks, all eyes are glued on him. Nobody is looking at their watch or has their eyes fixed on the floor. They don’t dare because if they do, Gruden is all over them. He has eye contact with everyone in the room. “It’s as if I’m the only one in the room when he’s talking,” one player tells, “because he’s looking right at me. But then the other guys say, ‘No, man, he’s talking directly to me.’ ”

“If I see a passive expression on someone’s face,” Gruden says, “I’ll say to him, ‘Right, Bob?’ or ‘Got that, Bob?’ To someone else, I’ll say, ‘Sam, you with me?’ or ‘Nice hat, Jack.’ I do this to keep my audience on their toes and get them involved. You know, audience participation.

“After my speech, I’ll say to a player, ‘Say, what’s the matter with you? Am I boring you? Let’s fix it, man. Want me to tell you a bedtime story and put you to sleep tonight?’ That usually gets a little laugh out of him. I do what I can to get them to see my point without creating animosity.

“Now don’t get the idea that it’s all fun and games,” Gruden continues. “This is a business, and sure, we have a little fun. But I like to mix it up; otherwise, if it’s only X’s and O’s, over the long season it does get monotonous. I like to keep it interesting.”

John Fox uses humor to quell tense times. For instance, during a hard workout at the Panthers’ summer training camp in Charlotte, the players were exhausted. The temperature was in the high 90s, the humidity was as thick as water, and there was not a cloud in the sky. The sun was red-hot. At a break on the field, Fox told them, “You know, guys, it just doesn’t get any better than this. What you’re getting here at training camp, people pay thousands of dollars to get at luxurious health spas. Look what you get here and it’s free. We feed you, and man, I don’t have to tell you how good the food is. What’s more, all of your meals are prepared by nutritionists. You get to eat as much of it as you want. You have this wonderful exercise program. You’ve got physical therapists here. I’m telling you, it just doesn’t get any better than this. Life is good, guys.”

 

 

 

IT WAS LATE IN THE season at Lambeau Field in Green Bay, and the Packers were playing Pittsburgh on a subfreezing Sunday afternoon. With little time left on the clock, the Packers were trailing the Steelers. It was third and two, and Coach Holmgren called a time-out. He huddled with his young quarterback Brett Favre on the sidelines. Quarterbacks Mark Brunell and Ty Detmer joined in.

“We had 45 seconds to talk and make a decision,” Holmgren explains. “I said to Favre, ‘If we make this first down, we have a chance of winning this game. I’m looking at two plays I like. Which one do you like best, Brett?’

“I quickly reviewed the two plays, and he didn’t say anything. He just had this goofy expression on his face. Finally, I banged him on the chest to get his attention, and I said, ‘Hey, look at me.’

“ ‘Mike,’ he goes, ‘you ought to see your mustache now.’

“I go, ‘What?’ I put my hand to my face, and icicles had formed on my mustache. I was wearing this big hat and I must have looked like Wally the Walrus.

“Brunell and Detmer split a gut laughing. Here we were in a crisis moment, and that’s all they can do. It cracked me up too. Favre has a wonderful sense of humor, and as I look back, his timing for exhibiting humor was just perfect. It took the edge off the stress and we were able to think more clearly.”

I’ve known Mike Holmgren for a quarter of a century, and no matter how stressful his job gets, he has never taken his work so seriously that he’s devoid of humor. Mike is one of those people with a self-deprecating sense of humor. He doesn’t mind making himself the butt of the joke.

The night before game day, the entire team watches game films. “Every now and then to keep everyone’s attention,” Holmgren says, “I’ll have something dubbed into the film at the tail end that has nothing to do with football. It’s something that pokes fun at one of the players, but more often than not, it pokes fun at me. For instance, I used to sing in a rock-and-roll group called Big Bop and the Choppers. One of our coaches had our film guy edit a part of an old film, and he put it into one of our highlight tapes. So suddenly, out of nowhere, there I am, singing a solo. I’m ‘Manifold Mike King of the Grease Pack.’ I’m singing some song with that ’50s music that goes, ‘Sha na na.’ Our guys are cracking up. Some are literally falling off their chairs!”

As I earlier discussed, Mike Holmgren and I go back a long time and I can tell you he can be as tough as the most hard-nosed Marine drill sergeant at boot camp. Even the biggest, toughest 300-pound-plus defensive lineman cowers when Holmgren reads the riot act. Trust me, nobody wants to be on the receiving end of a Holmgren reprimand. And if you ever are, and you stand up to him, you damn well better be right. Otherwise, be prepared for all hell to break loose. For the most part, however, Holmgren is fun-loving and thrives on seeing people have a good time. For example, a few years ago on Halloween, when everyone had assembled for the team’s ritual morning meeting, Holmgren walked in wearing a costume. For those who were there, seeing this six-five mountain of a man dressed in an elf costume was a sight to behold. Why does he carry on like this from time to time? “It breaks down communication barriers,” he explains. “It lets people know I’m approachable.

“The players love this stuff. I like to do these kinds of things with the players because it gives them a break from the stress they’re under during summer camp and the regular season. Considering that we have five preseason games, 16 season games, and as many as four playoff games, it’s a long time that we do the same thing over and over with the same people. It gets very serious. During the season, Thursday is generally my day for humor because it helps to break up the week. The humor is mainly stupid stuff, but by Thursday, it doesn’t take much to get a laugh around here.”

 

 

 

“IN 2002, MY FIRST YEAR with the Panthers,” says John Fox, “General Manager Marty Hurney asked me, ‘How do you know you’re getting through to the players?’

“We’ll know it,” I told him, “when we get to where we want to be, and the players are saying the same things I am saying. It’s my opinion that leadership is getting people to do something, but it’s also selling them on wanting to do it. And they believe it. That’s when I’ll know I’m getting through to them.”

Andy Reid agrees. “I listen to what the players say during postgame interviews with the media. I hear a lot of things their coaches told them in the locker room. Lines like, ‘Somebody has to step up and make the big play.’ A player will say, ‘Who’s it going to be?’ When I hear comments like that, it lets me know we are getting through to them. This to me is the real test.”

It’s interesting that none of the five head coaches in this book played in the NFL during his younger days. Hall of Famers Otto Graham and Norm Van Brocklin were among the best quarterbacks who ever played this game. Yet they weren’t great coaches, because they were unable to relate to players that weren’t as talented as they were during their playing days. To Graham and Van Brocklin, the game came instinctively. They were unable to communicate their know-how to players. Hence it didn’t transfer.

 

 

 

THERE’S NO QUESTION THAT WHEN great leaders speak, people listen. Of course, not everyone is a “natural-born” speaker. However to be a business leader, you must develop some proficiency as a public speaker; your failure to do so will severely handicap your chances to succeed. I am cognizant that some people have limited speaking skills—they have a weak voice, a stutter, and so on. Having said this, there are professionals who can coach you to be a decent public speaker. If you’re determined to lead others, you must put the time and effort into acquiring these skills. Remember now, leadership is not for everybody. Some people are more blessed with God-given talents that make them natural leaders. A majority of people will never lead others.

The quickest way for a speaker to bomb is to have a “canned” speech that doesn’t take into account that every audience is different. As we say in football parlance, you must be able to cut on the run. In other words, you must be able to read your audience, and if you’re losing it, you adapt by cutting from your prepared speech and move on to the next topic. This is difficult for a novice speaker. It’s a skill that takes time to develop because it comes over time with experience. Meanwhile, the better prepared you come to speak, the more flexibility you’ll have to switch gears. Being prepared is the key because it enhances your confidence. Notice how outstanding speakers radiate self-confidence.

We’ve all sat through enough speeches and sermons to realize that it borders on being criminal to deliver a boring speech. Like some of the coaches who have started to dub game films with humor, I recommend it to business leaders who give visual presentations. Some managers ask, “Is it appropriate to use humor during a very serious presentation?” Yes, and may I add, particularly so. A little humor goes a long way during a long, tedious financial presentation, especially to a group of marketing people with little finance background. The same is true when making a technical presentation to nontechnical people. Certainly common sense dictates use of humor in good taste.

I know of one such presentation recently given by a CEO who had images of five of his top executives, as well as himself, as young men back in the early 1970s—they all sported long sideburns and were dressed in leisure suits—and there they were, these comic images projected on a screen. The CEO, who is now bald, had shoulder-length hair! Self-deprecating humor of this nature sends a positive message to an organization. It’s healthy for people to be able to laugh at themselves. It demonstrates that they are good guys who are approachable. No leader wants to isolate himself in an ivory tower, removed from his people.

All too often, business leaders deliver bland speeches that put their audiences to sleep. Adding a spice of humor goes a long way toward enlivening an otherwise dull speech. There’s no reason why a business speech can’t be entertaining and informative. A timely joke is not only a great icebreaker, relaxing an audience at the beginning of a speech; it keeps them alert—they listen carefully because they don’t want to miss something funny! Then too, humor connotes wit and cleverness, both positive attributes of a successful person.

Public speaking is only one facet of needed communication skills required to effectively lead others. Great leaders excel at relating one-on-one with people. Here too, they do their homework and take the time to know their people. They are constantly asking questions, always seeking to find answers. I advocate that anyone in a managerial position should understand the psyche of his or her subordinates. This requires strong listening skills. Remember, God gave us two ears and one mouth, so we were meant to listen twice as much as we speak. Certainly, listening is an imperative communication skill, yet great leaders are commonly visualized in a speaker’s role rather than a listener’s role. Successful business leaders always have an antenna up so they can hear what their employees, customers, and competitors are saying.

Successful business leaders don’t hide behind closed office doors; they walk the floor—they meet with their people who work in plants, warehouses, laboratories, and places in remote locations. They do this on a regular basis so they can know firsthand what their people are thinking. And they listen carefully to what people are saying, knowing their employees are the best sources of advice for solutions to company problems. Why? Because nobody better understands their jobs than a company’s own employees—outside consultants included, and may I emphasize especially outside consultants. You will find that a vast majority of the solutions to your problems are within the walls of your organization. Your people have the solutions; listen to them and they will provide them!

Forget about eating in the executive dining room or going to your private club for lunch. Eat in the company’s main cafeteria and, like John Fox does, take turns sitting with people at all levels of the organization. Try this or—if your company doesn’t have a cafeteria—take subordinates out for lunch. It doesn’t have to be a fancy restaurant. They’ll appreciate your interest in them far more than an expensive meal. You’ll be surprised what you can learn from your people once you make them feel comfortable in your presence. Be yourself with them. Don’t feel like you always have to act as the boss. If you cease to be a real person, you cease to be a real leader.

And when you spend time with your subordinates, make a point of not limiting your conversations strictly to business. Get to know them. Find out about their families, their golf game, their hobbies, and their interests. Listen. Show them that you’re sincerely interested in them as human beings, not just as salaried employees who make money for the company.