WBA NewsroomThe article below was written by well-known broadcast consultant Tim Moore, Managing Partner of Audience Development Group, and is used here with Tim’s permission. It’s well worth the few moments it takes to read, particularly if you’re in a position where you manage talent.
If you’ve ever spent a home-game Saturday on Notre Dame’s campus, you’re aware of the pre-game luncheon at the Joyce Center; a longstanding tradition in South Bend. Once when the inspirational Lou Holtz was head coach, three thousand people fought for tickets while those unable to get in spilled over into the adjacent Hockey arena just to hear the pre-game program. Holtz says he didn’t change the program much; “it was always an upbeat event.”
The agenda was designed to let it build…culminating at kickoff in Notre Dame Stadium. Coach Holtz would select a couple of players, invite them to the luncheon, and urge them to talk about their successes as Fighting Irish athletes. Attendees ate it up like the entre on the plate in front of them. One Saturday the concept misfired when Holtz introduced an outspoken kicker who had enjoyed a major college star’s career as the best punter in the school’s history, destined for the NFL. Following Coach Holtz’ lavish introduction, Craig Hentrich stepped up to address the anticipating audience. But instead of reminiscing of his glory days midst the ivy covered walls and golden autumns of South Bend, Hentrich launched a diatribe about how the coaching staff took him for granted and lacked appreciation for what it took to be a kicker at the highest level of Division I football. The audience was stunned.
As evidence, Hentrich pointed to the fact that virtually every major college football team traveled with two kickers. Notre Dame traveled with only one kicker and but two priests. With two priests there was room for only one kicker, leaving Hentrich no kicking companion with whom to work or share time before games. It also meant an injury would mean the end of the Fighting Irish kicking game for a given road contest. Holtz says he listened to his prize kicker for what seemed like an eternity before Hentrich finally wound down and returned to his seat.
The beleaguered coach calmly restored presence of mind as he returned to the podium,
then without missing a beat, turned to his All American kicker. “Well Craig, if you kicked a little better, I wouldn’t need two priests.” The room exploded in laughter including Holtz’ bellicose punter and Holtz rapier-quick wit carried the day.
Later said Holtz, “I realized Craig was right and I was wrong. In fact he had been so successful, so automatic I took him for granted knowing he virtually always came through.” The entire Notre Dame coaching staff had Hentrich set on “automatic;” everyone assumed his performance was fait accompli.
Once this column suggested that to assume our best performers will stay our best performers is what we call “performance punishment.” The fallacy in that thinking (one of these days I need to take time to acknowledge my star players) is that somehow all too often, we never get around to expressing it (until their going-away luncheon).
And like Craig Hentrich, even in the most formal corporate structure, our top performers “graduate,” only then leaving us to fully appreciate how fortunate we were to have them on our team and to realize how difficult they are to replace. Today’s a great day to memorialize someone’s success on your team because being the best is a lifestyle, not a hobby.
Posted by Tim Morrissey