I didn’t know it at the time but growing up in northern Bergen County, New Jersey was a blessing. The family life was good, it was safe to walk the streets and I went to a small school with a long and rich community tradition. Community life at that time evolved around the school athletic programs. Many of my friends had fathers, uncles and brothers who played for the school in their youth (my schools girls’ basketball program began in my junior year). Many of us dreamt about the day when we’d be old enough to play for the school and be part of that tradition.
Most of the coaches at the school had played there before us. They made it clear that it was a privilege to play there. The past history, tradition and future success of the school’s programs were all equally important to them. Coaching, for them, was a way of remaining connected and giving back. They lived to coach. These guys were really good coaches. They had knowledge of the sport they coached and knew how to motivate players to improve and play together. Their stories told of the impact that sports had on their lives. Each of them spoke about coaches and players who supported and influenced them. They spoke about learning from both their success and their failure. They took a genuine interest in each and every player. The word “family” was more than a buzz word. It spoke to their view of the program and all who were part of it. These were incredible people, totally committed to creating life time experiences for their players. Their passion was contagious.
I frequently think about the impact they had on my life and the lives of many others. I wanted to be like them and hoped to return one day and coach at the school, giving back as they did. Unfortunately the school closed following my senior year, a victim of the newer, larger regional schools in the area – St. Joe’s in Montvale, Bergen Catholic, Paramus Catholic - and the well-established Don Bosco.
A good coach sees your potential more clearly than you see it yourself. They push you towards your potential, challenging your own self-doubts. They expect you to be your best version of yourself. These men made a difference in their small part of the world. I’ll never forget them and what they did for me and my teammates. I try to tell their stories when I can and continue to recognize them for their contributions.
John Carty was a graduate of my high school who became the head basketball coach, assistant football coach, and athletic director of the school. He was the master of “stroke and kick”. He’d get all over you if you failed to play or practice short of his standards and your potential. Then he’d look for the next opportunity to find something that you did well and say “see, that’s what you can do”. He was the school ambassador, always talking about tradition, the family of players current and past and the duty of athletes to be positive representatives of the program, both on and off the court.
He never gave up on me, even when I failed to meet the standards. Long after I graduated he still followed up to see how I was doing and pushing me to work through the weird stuff we all go through growing up. When our school announced the decision to close its doors he took a job at Mahwah HS. He was later was named to the NJSIAA Hall of Fame as a basketball coach. At age 52 John died of cancer. The line of those waiting outside the funeral home to pay their respects stretched for 5 blocks from the door – just a small sample of the number of lives he touched.
John’s younger brother, Kevin, was a senior when I was a freshman. Early in that freshman year he told me that I didn’t get it yet, but by the time I was a senior I would understand the passion that he and other seniors had for the programs and the opportunity I had to play at that school. As it turned out he was right. After Kevin graduated he would seek us out during the summer months and make sure we were working out and putting in the time necessary to contribute to the program. If he heard that any of us were even close to some of the “problem” behaviors that went on in town he’d come and find us so we could “talk” about it. It was usually a short, one way conversation.
In the off season we would play in a local summer basketball league. After a game Kevin would appear and say, “Let’s go, you guys have work to do.” We’d pile in his car and ride over to the football field and workout for at least two more hours, running pass patterns and playing with and against some of the local college players. They were all willing teachers, although the lessons could be humbling. Kevin extended himself for our benefit and for the benefit of the school programs.
Kevin went on to coach at Don Bosco High School, Moorhead State, Rutgers and eventually Somerville High School where he won two state championships. His son, Kevin Jr. holds the NJ high school record for career touchdown passes and is the current head coach at Hillsborough High School. Another son, Sean, played football at Rutgers and runs a strength and conditioning program in the area. Kevin’s youngest son, Ryan, is the offensive coordinator at the University of New Hampshire.
Kevin Carty Sr. is also in the NJSIAA Hall of Fame, as a football coach.
After serving as an assistant coach, Bill Connolly, took over our basketball program when John Carty left in my senior year. When he was in high school Bill was an All-State football, basketball and baseball player. His basketball knowledge was off the charts and he had a way of connecting with players that made you want to be the best you could be. While you always knew that Bill cared about you as a player and person it was clear that the team always came first. If you ever forgot it you were granted the privilege of sitting right next to him during the game. As much as I liked playing for him I never wanted that seat. After beating the #2 team in the state twice that year Bill was named Coach of the Year in the suburban New Jersey area. Sadly, after my school closed following my senior year, Bill never coached again – a victim of an insane rule that required coaches to possess a teaching certificate. With all of the wannabe coaches out there it’s a shame so many young players missed the opportunity of playing for him.
One of my sisters ran into Bill shortly before he died at age 81. She identified herself as my sister. Within seconds he was fully animated, telling her detailed stories of our team and his time as the coach. It was as if the season just ended. She said you could clearly feel his passion for coaching and working with young people.
It took a while, but as I grew older I could see their influence on how I worked with people in my work life, in how I tried to raise a family with my wife, Dawn, and how I involved myself in the community. I consider my experience with them a gift, one I’d like to pass forward. I know I’m not the only one. Many of the guys who played for John, Kevin and Bill went on to coach at some level.
Though I’m sure I’ll never be able to know as much as they did about people and coaching there’s a few things I learned and remember.
When building a program -
Ø Connect to your history – we all want to be a part of something.
Ø A program is about many teams, season after season, playing to a standard – think past (where you come from), present (where you are) and future (where you want to be). Develop players at all levels.
Ø Be true to your philosophy. Never lose focus of the values and basic principles that drive you. Never compromise when it comes to your values and principles.
Ø Basketball is a team game; teach the skills that allow the team to flourish.
Ø “Team First” takes care of all the players, not just the “chosen ones”.
Ø Communicate re: how you will implement your philosophy.
Ø Respect is more important than popularity. Earn the player’s respect.
Ø Never forget that it’s about more than basketball.
Developing players
Ø Teach skills and teach about the commitment necessary to improve the skills.
Ø Teach teamwork and how each player’s skills can benefit the team.
Ø Teach accountability to the learning. Let players know when they are not meeting your standards and their potential. Part of communicating your care for them (and the team) is having the courage to let them know where they stand – even if it stings.
Ø Look for signs of improvement, acknowledge it when you see it.
Ø Look for signs of contentment. Players (and teams) who are content with their skill level have stopped trying. Push them on to and through the next challenge of skill development.
Ø The bench is a great teacher. When all else fails, if your message is not received sit the player down. Players want to play and will do what they have to do to get on the court.
Ø Every action you take, or don’t take, is noticed by the players and builds, or destroys, your credibility. Be true to who you say you are.
Remember, if the coach allows your kid to remain comfortable she won’t improve. The best coaches are comfortable with the player’s discomfort and the discomfort that comes their way when kids and parents are upset because “you’re not being nice”. The best coaches realize that earning a player’s respect is more important than being liked by a player.
I grew up believing that everyone had good coaches like I did. When I got to college I was surprised to find out that it was not always true. Not all coaches can teach skills and life lessons and many don’t have an interest in connecting with their players or the ability to do so. Talking with friends over the years I realized that not everyone was as fortunate as I was. So, if you have a young kid who enjoys sports, don’t settle. Don’t miss the opportunity to find coaches who can inspire them and encourage them to be more than they think they can be. It could be just one factor that makes a difference in their life.
Bob Peterman
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