Which one are we really teaching them to play?
“If you asked me if I’d rather see a kid win a D1 National Championship in dramatic fashion & all the clout that comes with it..
Or
See that kid become an adult & go to the gym 3x per week to perform basic, even remedial levels of fitness for life..
I’d choose the ladder 100/100.”
-Ray Zingler on X
I love moments, I really do.
A main component of my job is to help athletes in the background, so that they can shine under the lights in the foreground.
It’s what we do as strength & conditioning coaches. It’s the job.
But as I sit here and reflect on some of my athletes biggest moments (many come to mind) each and every one of them, even the biggest of big, pale in comparison to my memories of the process that was required to achieve those moments.
And oddly enough, I remember the random, mundane, Tuesday training sessions 6 months prior to the season as much as I do that final out of the state championship win.
And it got me thinking.
It got me thinking about the biggest moments in all of sports.
Think Olympic Gold, World Series, Super Bowl, Stanley Cup, NBA Finals, National Championships. You get it.
If you asked me, “Ray, would you rather see one of your athletes, attain the final out in Game 7 of the World Series to win it all in dramatic fashion OR would you rather see that athlete, after his career, go on to lead a healthy lifestyle, working out at the fitness center 3 times per week, which would you choose?
In a perfect world, I’d like to say both. I would love for this athlete to experience that glorious athletic accomplishment.
But if I could only choose one, I’d choose to see him go on to lead a healthy lifestyle after his career, over what would arguably be his most glorious sports moment.
And I choose that option, 100 times out of 100.
It’s because while that moment would be monumentally surreal for 24 hours, it would eventually wear off.
And it’d wear off rather quickly, too.
Going to the gym and exercising 3 times per week, every week, for 50 years isn’t nearly as glamorous as winning the World Series.
But it’s leadership.
It’s accountability.
It’s ownership.
It’s what’s required for quality of life to serve not only yourself, but more importantly those around you.
How does the commitment to your (unending) process inspire and influence others around you?
That’s the real game.
And it’s much bigger than the World Series.
