elitefts™ Sunday Edition

“Do what you can, with what you have, where you are,” and I will add to this quote by Teddy Roosevelt, “and stop bitching!”

It is time for a reality check for most of the strength coaches out there. You do not work in a 20,000 sq. foot weight room. You do not have 10 draft picks a year, an unlimited budget, or a bunch of full-time staff members. And you are not going to make $300,000.00 this year.

BUT all of this speaks absolutely nothing to the kind of strength coach you are!

You do not suck because you are not “that guy.” It amazes me how many people put themselves down and sell themselves and their program short because they don’t have what some other schools have. Why do you need all of that glitz and glam to succeed? Why would you think that your program is not any good even if you are having success in what you are doing? If you look at the coaches at the upper levels of strength and conditioning, you will find that they did not start there. Look hard at their resumes and see what they went through to get to where they are. And be happy for them. They set the bar for the rest of us. To get to the higher ranks, many of them attached themselves to an up-and-coming coach, and from there they both worked their way up together. Still, these guys didn't stop there. No matter where they are or at what level they currently coach, they still work hard and get the job done. And I know they have a lot more responsibility to their teams than just writing workouts.

But what's the most amazing thing of all? They all do it differently. They all do it their own “special” way. That is what makes this profession so great—it is a blend of art and science. If it wasn’t that blend, we would all be doing the same workouts and getting the same results with all of our athletes. As I have stated before, there are hundreds of ways to skin a cat. Find your way. You should be in this business to make athletes better. Period! Everything else should be secondary. If it is not, you are in the wrong business.

When I was working in a high school, I lived by that quote above. Every coach who came by our school to recruit knew that we were doing everything possible to run a first-class program with the limited resources we had. And that attitude day-in and day-out got me that phone call to interview for my first college job. I was offered the job, accepted it, and went from limited resources to LIMITED RESOURCES! My first collegiate weight room had four squat racks, four benches that slid into those racks, a set of dumbbells, some weights, four bars, and four preacher curl bars. That was it. That was the entire weight room. And I was the happiest guy on the planet. I never let what I didn’t have affect what I did have. We turned it into a rallying cry, worked our balls off, and won ten games with a group of committed players that refused to quit, give in, or let what they did not have distract them from getting better.

As I moved on and got to a position in my career where I could hire a staff and also have interns and volunteers, it amazed me what went on. I would look at applicants from larger schools, thinking that they could bring something to the program—some icing for the cake. I could not be more wrong. These applicants paid no attention to the people they were working for. Those applying for a job thought that everything was going to be handed to them because of where they were, not what they did while they were there. They would ask me how many students they would have working for them, why the pay was so little, how much time off they were going to get, how many hours a day they were required to work, would they have to work weekends, etc. It was insane. Then, I would call to check their references and work histories only to find that most of them were just extra guys on a large staff who judged everything on the top-level schools. They had never ran their own groups or had to be responsible for anything or anyone, let alone develop anyone. Yet, they would complain why they only had 10 med balls instead of 12. And then they wanted more money!? They wanted to travel with the team, get gear, and be on the sideline!? I knew then and there that I had to change my plan of attack to put a winning, cohesive staff together.

I have always had it in my mind that I did not want everyone on my staff to be like me. If we all had the same personality, we would never be able to reach all of our players. I knew I had to get a bunch of unselfish guys from different walks of life, educational (or lack thereof), and socioeconomic backgrounds together. I also decided to only look at applicants with very limited experience and try to mold them into what I wanted, or I would choose those from smaller schools where they had a bunch of teams and responsibilities. I then turned to the internet—looking at their highlight films, watching how their kids responded, how they coached, etc. I got some great ones that way. No experience, but a desire to be part of something greater than yourself. I then put together a step program that I still use today.

The first step would be setting up and breaking down the weight room, setting up and breaking down the field, shadowing the staff at every workout, and only loading plates (but no spotting). And then, of course, clean. And clean. And clean. That’s it. I still remember the first “class” of interns I ever had. Out of seven guys, only one (Jason) lasted more than two weeks, and he was with us for two years until he got a job as a strength coach. He put his nose to the grindstone, worked, and learned. He went all the way and became a great deadlifter on top of being a great strength coach!

The second step of this process is being in charge of all the injured players. You have to schedule their individual workout times, work them out, meet with myself and the trainer daily, and design their workouts (which always have to be approved by the staff). You are now also allowed to spot in the regular workout groups at this time, while still doing all of the first step responsibilities. The third step is working with the developmental group. This step consists of doing all that is assigned to that group by the staff and running an agility station. By the fourth step, you are full-fledged member and can do almost all that the full-time staff does. You get to work the sidelines, travel to one away game, travel to bowl games, and get a full cut of all gear. This step process usually takes up to a year or a year and a half to complete. It is a great way to weed out the ones willing to pay the price and the ones that just want a job.

It is an awesome responsibility to help young strength coaches develop, mature, and do things the right way. I have never heard from the ones that didn’t make it—the ones that quit or were asked to leave; the ones that bitched, moaned, groaned, and complained. But I can say with pride that all those who made it through this entire step process are employed as strength coaches at various schools all over the country. Why? What was the difference? They did the best they could, with what they had, where they were.

Coach G's New eBook