Assistant Coach Quotes

Coach Graham rode you pretty hard, didn't he?" he said. I could barely muster a "yeah." That's a good thing," the assistant told me. When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, it means they've given up on you.

Do not give them a candle to light the way, teach them how to make fire instead. That is the meaning of enlightenment.

A lot of coaches can yell or be nice, but what Pop does is different,” says assistant coach Chip Engelland. “He delivers two things over and over: He’ll tell you the truth, with no bullshit, and then he’ll love you to death.

Lorry, getting down into the road—assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two passengers, who immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, and pulled up the window. "He may come close; there's nothing wrong.

I know this messenger, guard," said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the road—assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by the other two passengers, who immediately scrambled into the coach, shut the door, and pulled up the window. "He may come close; there's nothing wrong.

Coach Graham used to ride me hard. I remember one practice in particular. 'You're doing it all wrong, Pauch. Go back! Do it again!' I tried to do what he wanted. It wasn't enough. 'You owe me, Pauch! You're doing push-ups after practice." When I was finally dismissed, one of the assistant coaches came over to reassure me. 'Coach Graham rode you pretty hard, didn't he?' he said. I could barely muster a 'yeah.' 'That's a good thing,' the assistant told me. 'When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they've given up on you.' That lesson has stuck with me my whole life. When you see yourself doing something badly and nobody's bothering to tell you anymore, that's a bad place to be. You may not want to hear it, but your critics are often the ones telling you they still love you and care about you, and want to make you better.

Gardner led practices with the assistance of the fitness coach and one of the other assistants while the infamous frankfurter did what he always did: a whole bunch of nothing.

Potter,' she said in ringing tones, 'I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!' 'The Minister for Magic will never employ Harry Potter!' said Umbridge, her voice rising furiously. 'There may well be a new Minister for Magic by the time Potter is ready to join!' shouted Professor McGonagall. 'Aha!' shrieked Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at McGonagall. 'Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's what you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replace by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you: Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and Headmistress to boot!' 'You are raving,' said Professor McGonagall, superbly disdainful.

Professor Umbridge stood up. She was so short that this did not make a great deal of difference, but her fussy, simpering demeanour had given place to a hard fury that made her broad, flabby face look oddly sinister. ‘Potter has no chance whatsoever of becoming an Auror!’ Professor McGonagall got to her feet, too, and in her case this was a much more impressive move; she towered over Professor Umbridge. ‘Potter,’ she said in ringing tones, ‘I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!

Then she walks out of the room. David calls after her, “I’ll call you when I get a job at one of the elite teams! You can be my assistant coach!” The woman’s response from the corridor is as obvious as it is confident: “You can be my assistant coach!

When I was finally dismissed, one of the assistant coaches came over to reassure me. "Coach Graham road you pretty hard, didn't he?" he said. I could barely muster a "yeah." "That's a good thing." the assistant told me. "When you're screwing up and nobody says anything to you anymore, that means they've given up on you.

Millie is an assistant AD,” Kurt said. Hold up. Did that make her my boss?

It should be obvious that technologies are capable of replacing teachers and professors in a wide variety of settings. The current buzzword for this is the flipped classroom—students watch lectures and learn the material online at home, then do their homework at school with the help of teachers and teaching assistants. Teachers may no longer need to prepare or deliver lectures, reducing them to what could be called “learning coaches.” The diminished skill set required is sure to transform the profession and create yet more challenges for our already beleaguered teachers.

~Here’s to kick-offs, goals, assists, shootouts, livin’ on the road, the smell of wet grass, early mornings, breakaways, crossbar shots, countless hours of practice, Nike cleats, , shin pads, big passes, loud chanting, new equipment, sniping shots, corner kicks, coaches, passion in our numbers, living with your team mates, the girls you trust become your second family, pick up, fights, let downs, miracles. Some people say soccer’s a matter of life or death, but it isn’t, it’s much more then that, and most of all – the best game in the world, our passion, our life, our future, our love, our game .. SOCCER.~

So at my old school,” he said. “There was this kid on the baseball team. People thought, I don’t know. They saw that he went to some website or something.” ... “They made it impossible for him to play. Every day, the found another way to mess with him. Then one Friday after school, they locked him in the storage closet.” He winced, as if remembering and I knew. I knew then. “All night long and the whole next day. A tiny, dark, disgusting airless space. His parents thought he was at the away game and someone told the coaches he was sick, so no one even looked for him. No one knew he was trapped in there.” His chest was heaving and I was remembering how he told me he didn’t used to have claustrophobia and now he did. “He was really good too, probably the best player on the team or could have been. And he didn’t even do anything. The guy just went to these sites and someone saw. Do you get it? Do you get what it would mean for me? The assistant captain? I want to be captain next year so maybe I can graduate early. No scholarship. No nothing. These guys aren’t” - he made finger quotes - “evolved. They’re not from Northern California. They don’t do all-day sits or draw pictures.” The dagger went straight in. “It’s brutal in a locker room.

One of the ways Coach Wooden used to do that was to ask his players to acknowledge the skills and contributions of others. He told each player that if a teammate made a great pass or set a pick that allowed him to score, he should acknowledge the teammate on the way back down the court. One time a player asked, “Coach, if we do that, what if the teammate that made the assist isn’t looking?” Coach Wooden replied, “He will always be looking.” Coach knew that people look for and thrive on acknowledgment and appreciation.

The stranger went into the little parlour of the Coach and Horses about half-past five in the morning, and there he remained until near midday, the blinds down, the door shut, and none, after Hall’s repulse, venturing near him. All that time he must have fasted. Thrice he rang his bell, the third time furiously and continuously, but no one answered him. “Him and his ‘go to the devil’ indeed!” said Mrs. Hall. Presently came an imperfect rumour of the burglary at the vicarage, and two and two were put together. Hall, assisted by Wadgers, went off to find Mr. Shuckleforth, the magistrate, and take his advice. No one ventured upstairs. How the stranger occupied

She had better have stayed at home,” cried Elizabeth; “perhaps she meant well, but, under such a misfortune as this, one cannot see too little of one’s neighbours. Assistance is impossible; condolence insufferable. Let them triumph over us at a distance, and be satisfied.” She then proceeded to inquire into the measures which her father had intended to pursue, while in town, for the recovery of his daughter. “He meant I believe,” replied Jane, “to go to Epsom, the place where they last changed horses, see the postilions and try if anything could be made out from them. His principal object must be to discover the number of the hackney coach which took them from Clapham. It had come with a fare from London; and as he thought that the circumstance of a gentleman and lady’s removing from one carriage into another might be remarked he meant to make inquiries at Clapham. If he could anyhow discover at what house the coachman had before set down his fare, he determined

Here, for example, is a hypothetical: A football team is going to an away game when one of their vans breaks down. So they ask the mother of one of the players if they can borrow her van to transport them. Sure, she says, but I’m not going to drive. And so she asks the assistant coach to drive the team for her. But then, as they’re driving along, something horrible happens: the van skids off the road and flips over; everyone inside dies. There is no criminal case here. The road was slippery, the driver wasn’t intoxicated. It was an accident. But then the parents of the team, the mothers and fathers of the dead players, sue the owner of the van. It was her van, they argue, but more important, it was she who appointed the driver of her van. He was only her agent, and therefore, it is she who bears the responsibility. So: What happens? Should the plaintiffs win their suit? Students don’t like this case. I don’t teach it that often—its extremity makes it more flashy than it is instructive, I believe—but whenever I did, I would always hear a voice in the auditorium say, “But it’s not fair!” And as annoying as that word is—fair—it is important that students never forget the concept. “Fair” is never an answer, I would tell them. But it is always a consideration. He never mentioned whether something was fair, however. Fairness itself seemed to hold little interest for him, which I found fascinating, as people, especially young people, are very interested in what’s fair. Fairness is a concept taught to nice children: it is the governing principle of kindergartens and summer camps and playgrounds and soccer fields. Jacob, back when he was able to go to school and learn things and think and speak, knew what fairness was and that it was important, something to be valued. Fairness is for happy people, for people who have been lucky enough to have lived a life defined more by certainties than by ambiguities. Right and wrong, however, are for—well, not unhappy people, maybe, but scarred people; scared people. Or am I just thinking this now? “So were the plaintiffs successful?” I asked. That year, his first year, I had in fact taught that case. “Yes,” he said, and he explained why: he knew instinctively why they would have been. And then, right on cue, I heard the tiny “But it’s not fair!” from the back of the room, and before I could begin my first lecture of the season—“fair” is never an answer, etc., etc.—he said, quietly, “But it’s right.

In June 1981, a strike shuttered the major leagues for fifty days, the first time in baseball history that players walked out during the season. Determined to make his people earn their keep, George Steinbrenner ordered his major-league coaches into the minors to scout and help mentor the organization’s prospects. Berra drew Nashville, where Merrill was the manager. Merrill was a former minor-league catcher with a degree in physical education from the University of Maine. He began working for the Yankees in 1978 at West Haven, Connecticut, in the Eastern League and moved south when the Yankees took control of the Southern League’s Nashville team in 1980. Suddenly, in mid-1981, the former catcher who had never made it out of Double-A ball had the most famous and decorated Yankees backstop asking him, “What do you want me to do?” Wait a minute, Merrill thought. Yogi Berra is asking me to supervise him? “Do whatever you want,” Merrill said. “No,” Berra said. “Give me something specific.” And that was when Merrill began to understand the existential splendor of Yogi Berra, whom he would come to call Lawrence or Sir Lawrence in comic tribute to his utter lack of pretense and sense of importance. “He rode buses with us all night,” Merrill said. “You think he had to do that? He was incredible.” One day Merrill told him, “Why don’t you hit some rollers to that lefty kid over there at first base?” Berra did as he was told and later remarked to Merrill, “That kid looks pretty good with the glove.” Berra knew a prospect when he saw one. It was Don Mattingly, who at the time was considered expendable by a chronically shortsighted organization always on the prowl for immediate assistance at the major-league level.

Type II trauma also often occurs within a closed context - such as a family, a religious group, a workplace, a chain of command, or a battle group - usually perpetrated by someone related or known to the victim. As such, it often involves fundamental betrayal of the relationship between the victim and the perpetrator and within the community (Freyd, 1994). It may also involve the betrayal of a particular role and the responsibility associated with the relationship (i.e., parent-child, family member-child, therapist-client, teacher-student, clergy-child/adult congregant, supervisor-employee, military officer-enlisted man or woman). Relational dynamics of this sort have the effect of further complicating the victim's survival adaptations, especially when a superficially caring, loving or seductive relationship is cultivated with the victim (e.g., by an adult mentor such as a priest, coach, or teacher; by an adult who offers a child special favors for compliance; by a superior who acts as a protector or who can offer special favors and career advancement). In a process labelled "selection and grooming", potential abusers seek out as potential victims those who appear insecure, are needy and without resources, and are isolated from others or are obviously neglected by caregivers or those who are in crisis or distress for which they are seeking assistance. This status is then used against the victim to seduce, coerce, and exploit. Such a scenario can lead to trauma bonding between victim and perpetrator (i.e., the development of an attachment bond based on the traumatic relationship and the physical and social contact), creating additional distress and confusion for the victim who takes on the responsibility and guilt for what transpired, often with the encouragement or insinuation of the perpetrator(s) to do so.

In that way the assistants are like filters, determining what should get all the way to me. But the staff can’t just take the player’s side. Their job is to explain what I’m doing and why. It’s just like if you’re married. You don’t let the kids divide and conquer the mom and the dad. You listen, you try to fix what needs fixing, but you don’t throw your spouse under the bus.

When you ask for assistance from your guides and the Masters of Light Know that they already help you as much as they can. It is you who must come to meet them halfway. Do not ask them as if they had power to change your life. They only can guide you to be your own best guide.

special assistant to the head coach.

Durant had a 42 point game to finish a spectacular rookie season where he averaged 20.3 points, 4.4 rebounds and 2.4 assists. He was the first rookie to average more than 20 points in a game since Carmelo Anthony (21) and LeBron James (20.9). He also became the first rookie to lead his team in scoring since Emeka Okafor and Josh Childress did it in 2004-05. As Durant won these accolades, he was knocked to his knees all year long. Durant was often criticized for flopping too much, but the truth was that he was not strong enough to stay on his feet to defend his heftier opponents. There were rumors that he couldn't even bench press 185 pounds because all he ate was chicken and candies. He was called "Starvin" and "String Bean" by his buddies because of his reed-thin 185 pound frame. Durant was so thin that Sonics Coach P.J. Carlisimo played him as a 6-9 guard at that time. Durant was also labeled as "chucker" because he took 1,366 shots from the field and made just 43%. He was just taking orders from Carlisimo, who

Radia Hosni, mhitimu wa mikanda miwili myeusi ya sanaa za mapigano za kareti na kung’fu katika ngazi ya dani mbili za kung’fu na dani moja ya kareti, mwanajeshi wa Tunisia aliyepata mafunzo ya kawaida ya kijeshi nchini Ufaransa na mafunzo ya kikomandoo nchini Uingereza kabla ya kujiunga na Tume ya Dunia, alikuwa mshindi wa tuzo ya shujaa wa taifa la Tunisia. Hussein Kashoggi alipokuwa akiwasili Tunis kutokea Copenhagen, Radia alikuwa katika Uwanja wa Mpira wa El Menzah akiangalia mechi kati ya Stade Tunisien na Espérance ST – timu ambayo mchumba wake Fathi Meoki alikuwa kocha msaidizi. Fujo zilipozuka, baada ya Stade Tunisien kufungwa bao moja kwa sifuri na Espérance ST, Radia alipanda Quadrifoglio na kuondoka kuelekea Uwanja wa Ndege wa Tunis-Carthage; ambapo alimpokea Hussein Kashoggi na jambazi wa Kolonia Santita, Delfina Moore.

Coaching offers customized, one-on-one support to assist individuals in reaching their goals. The process involves goal setting, identifying obstacles, brainstorming solutions and creating a workable action plan.

I think everybody has the ability to wake up. That is my mission. Through my words, through being that communicator to be a coach and using my skills as an energy healer, I can assist in someone’s journey to discovery. 

Famed basketball coach Phil Jackson, a meditator himself, arranged to have his players—first the Chicago Bulls, and then the L.A. Lakers—learn meditation as a way to improve their focus and teamwork. Jackson finds that mindfulness assists players in paying attention to what’s happening on the court moment by moment. Such precise training in attention has paid off during tense playoffs; Jackson has led more teams to championships than any coach in NBA history. Meditation

The president and Colson were in the middle of their conversation about Henry Kissinger when assistant Steve Bull entered the Oval Office to report that Coach Allen of the Redskins had finally arrived. Bull also informed the president of the news, just filtering in, that baseball star Roberto Clemente was on a plane that had crashed after taking off from the San Juan International Airport late the night before. “Was he killed?” Nixon asked. “They don’t have confirmation yet,” Bull replied.1 Clemente, the popular outfielder for the Pittsburgh Pirates, had boarded a rickety four-engine DC-7 plane that was overloaded with relief supplies for the victims of a massive earthquake in Nicaragua. The earthquake was believed to have resulted in the deaths of more than seven thousand people. Most of the deaths had occurred in the capital city of Managua, which had taken the brunt of the 6.2 magnitude shock at midday on Saturday, December 23.2 The city was leveled. The lumbering plane that Clemente was on nose-dived into heavy seas shortly after takeoff from San Juan. Clemente was thirty-eight years old and had been a perennial All-Star, four-time winner of the National League batting championship, defensive genius, and MVP in 1966. He led the Pirates to two world championships, one in 1960 and the other a decade later in 1971. “Mr. Clemente was the leader of Puerto Rican efforts to aid the Nicaraguan victims and was aboard the plane because he suspected that relief supplies were falling into the hands of profiteers,” the New York Times reported after his death was presumed.3 Clemente was scheduled to meet Anastasio Somoza, the military dictator of Nicaragua, at the airport, one of the very grafters he was attempting to circumvent with his personal mission. Clemente’s body was never recovered. It was a bad omen for the start of 1973.

As the crowd jeered and laughed, the leader of the attackers vowed meekly, “We will never touch girls again. Honest, we won’t.” Then the three men edged away from the smirking crowd. As my pulse rate returned to normal, I discovered I was as amazed as everyone else. Taking a deep breath, I thanked God for His help and miraculous assistance. Those who had seen the encounter continued to call out their approval and good wishes. “Well done, Superwoman!” “You should be a coach. You should be training all the young women and girls. Make the streets safe!” Eventually I would earn my black belt, become a coach and share the Gospel the same way that I was saved.

how was Beckenbauer to be used? With hindsight, Schön should perhaps have agreed with his assistant coach Dettmar Cramer, who argued that it would rob West Germany of a major creative force to have Beckenbauer mark Bobby Charlton. Then again, Beckenbauer readily agreed when Schön gave him orders to follow England’s play-maker – and hindsight is perfect but useless vision.

Will you be traveling to London for the Season?” Sir Lester was asking Lady Rose. A footman had arrived with the tea and refreshments. Rose poured each of them a cup, and Iain declined cream or sugar. She turned her attention back to Sir Lester. “My mother wishes to go to London, but she isn’t well right now. I do not think it is possible.” “When she recovers, perhaps?” The baronet was clearly wanting Lady Rose to return to the city. “Have you no wish to join the gatherings? Even with your condition, I would think that you would prefer being amid the social circles and the other young ladies.” Rose shook her head, wincing slightly. “I would rather not face society just yet. I am certain you can understand this.” “Of course. But . . . if I may be so bold, does this mean that you have parted company with Lord Burkham?” Iain’s curiosity was piqued. He leaned forward, wanting to know more about Lady Rose’s intended. “No,” she answered. “I have reason to believe that he will offer for me, eventually.” The baronet sighed. “Lady Rose, any number of men would be glad to marry you. That is, if it is your wish.” The smile on his face suggested that he wanted to be one of them. “I do not think I shall marry for some time.” Her voice was calm, but beneath it, Iain detected an air of frustration. “Lady Rose, do not let one man’s folly dissuade you from enjoying the Season,” Sir Lester reassured her. “Were I to have the honor of accompanying you to a soiree, rest assured, I would have no desire to leave your side.” She sent him a weary smile. “You are very kind, sir.” It was doubtful that kindness had anything to do with it. The baronet was besotted with her and made no secret of that fact. But Lady Rose was not finished. “The truth is, I do not wish to return to London until I can walk again. And I do not know how long it will take.” “Oh.” Sir Lester appeared startled by this revelation, but then he brightened. “Then you will be here, in Yorkshire. I would be glad to assist you in any way that I can.” Though it was none of his affair, Iain didn’t miss the look of discomfort on Rose’s face. He wiped his hands upon a linen napkin and rose to his feet. “I must thank you for your hospitality, Sir Lester. But I should be taking Lady Rose home again before it rains.” “I could drive both of you back in my coach,” the baronet suggested. “It would be no trouble at all.” “No, thank you. I enjoy riding.” Rose dismissed the idea and added, “Lord Ashton was good enough to escort me here, so I will be fine. But if you would send word to your groom to prepare our horses, it would be greatly appreciated.” She sent him a nod, and with that, Iain lifted her into his arms. It gave him a slight satisfaction to note the discomfited expression upon the baronet’s face. “It will . . . take some time for my groom to saddle your horses,” the baronet said. “Would you rather wait a little longer, perhaps?” Lady Rose flushed, but she shook her head. “Thank you, but I really should be going. By the time Lord Ashton brings me outside, I will only need to wait a few minutes.” Iain

The Los Angeles coach and his assistants were befuddled by the Buss family’s willingness to kneel before a child. Around the same time as he was being accused of sexual assault, Bryant started behaving in curious ways. There were the new tattoos scrolling down his right arm—a crown, his wife Vanessa’s name, a halo and angel wings above Psalm XXVII.

I was hooked. He started me with shorter reads, books such as Endurance,7 which chronicled Ernest Shackleton’s adventures in Antarctica. Later he led me into much larger challenges, such as Undaunted Courage,8 which depicts the journey of Lewis and Clark, and many more interesting and exciting literary adventures. I often exchanged these books with my dad and Coach Pickett back home for their best choices as well, which included Truman,9 and Freedom from Fear.10 I

The coach is making seven figures. The assistants are making six figures. TV networks are making billions. And yet the players who are grinding their bodies into nothing, sacrificing kneecaps and ligaments on a daily basis, who are the only people anyone tunes in to watch, are earning the equivalent of $40,000 per year? And that’s not even in cash but it’s in a “service”? That’s like being offered the most physically dangerous job on a staff where everyone else is making six or seven figures, and you’re supposed to risk your health and be the face of the company for a compensation package of $40,000 in gift certificates.

Three he recognized as assistant coaches Johnny Dawkins, Chris Collins, and Steve Wojciechowski.

Head coaches must always look out for their assistants.

If Bryant knew, it was something of a secret to those hoping otherwise. The college recruiting letters arrived by the boatload—from Duke and North Carolina, from UCLA and USC, from Delaware and Drexel and Villanova and Temple. This was the fall of 1995, and at the time Joe Bryant was in his second year as an assistant at nearby La Salle University, his alma mater. He had been hired in 1993 by Speedy Morris, the head coach, and while the official reasoning was that the program needed a replacement for the recently departed Randy Monroe, the reality was different. “Did I think it’d help us get Kobe?” Morris said decades later. “Yes. Of course. Joe was not a good assistant coach. He didn’t work hard, he didn’t actually know that much. Nice guy. But he was there so we’d get his son.

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IF YOU PEOPLE DON’T WANNA GET FLATTENED, YOU’D BETTER MOVE OUT OF THE WAY!” The entire male track team looked behind them to see Eric and…was that Heather Grant? Yes, it was. Their new PE assistant coach was also running down the hallway, and there was a large cloud of what looked like dust chasing after them. Everyone present jumped away, their backs pressing against the wall, just as the two ran past them. “There they are!” “Get them!” “Hurry up! Don’t let them get away!” “Come back here, you stupid perverts!” “I can’t believe we trusted you!” “KILL THEM!!!” Before anyone could even think about relaxing, the track team was forced back against the wall as a horde of outraged teenage girls rushed by. Several drops of sweat rolled down Kevin’s face as he noticed that every girl was carrying some kind of household appliance: a broom, a mop, a rake, a strange pole thing, and… “Holy shit! Is that chick carrying a claymore?!” Kevin nearly did a double take when he saw that one of the girls rushing past them was, indeed, carrying a claymore: a two-handed longsword with a cross hilt of forward-sloping quillons with quatrefoil terminations. The weapon was gigantic, literally a foot or so longer than the girl was tall.

(In St. Louis, a shop assistant and former army lieutenant named Ulysses Grant often coached the local Wide Awakes.) The sinister symbol of the new organization, painted on its banners and printed on its membership certificates, was a single all-seeing, unblinking eye.

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Troy exchanged a brief look with the Ravens' assistant coach, Brian Quinn, who stood quietly in the background. Quinn had been the assistant coach last season too, but seemed perfectly happy to have Troy here to take over his shipwreck of a team or maybe, in keeping with the theme, it was less a shipwreck and more a bird with a broken wing and a missing eye that was probably dead.

Dungy sees something that no one else does. He sees proof that his plan is starting to work. Tony Dungy had waited an eternity for this job. For seventeen years, he prowled the sidelines as an assistant coach, first at the University of Minnesota, then with the Pittsburgh Steelers, then the Kansas City Chiefs, and then back to Minnesota with the Vikings. Four times in the past decade, he had been invited to interview for head coaching positions with NFL teams. All four times, the interviews hadn’t gone well. Part of the problem was Dungy’s coaching philosophy. In his job interviews, he would patiently explain his belief that the key to winning was changing players’ habits. He wanted to get players to stop making so many decisions during a game, he said. He wanted them to react automatically, habitually. If he could instill the right habits, his team would win. Period. “Champions don’t do extraordinary things,” Dungy would explain. “They do ordinary things, but they do them without thinking, too fast for the other team to react. They follow the habits they’ve learned.” How, the owners would ask, are you going to create those new habits? Oh, no, he wasn’t going to create new habits, Dungy would answer. Players spent their lives building the habits that got them to the NFL. No athlete is going to abandon those patterns simply because some new coach says to. So rather than creating new habits, Dungy was going to change players’ old ones. And the secret to changing old habits was using what was already inside players’ heads. Habits are a three-step loop—the cue, the routine, and the reward—but Dungy only wanted to attack the middle step, the routine. He knew from experience that it was easier to convince someone to adopt a new behavior if there was something familiar at the beginning and end.3.5 His coaching strategy embodied an axiom, a Golden Rule of habit change that study after study has shown is among the most powerful tools for creating change. Dungy recognized that you can never truly extinguish bad habits. Rather, to change a habit, you must keep the old cue, and deliver the old reward, but insert a new routine. That’s the rule: If you use the same cue, and provide the same reward, you can shift the routine and change the habit. Almost any behavior can be transformed if the cue and reward stay the same.

Coach Bobby put his finger in my face. I debated biting it off—that always gets a man’s attention. “You’re a dead man, Bolitar. You hear me? A dead man.” “A deaf man?” I said. “A dead man.” “Oh, good, because if I were a deaf man, I wouldn’t be able to hear you. Come to think of it, if I were a dead man, I wouldn’t be able to either.” The horn sounded. Assistant Coach Pat said, “Come on, Bobby.” “Dead man,” he said one more time. I cupped my hand to my ear, hard-of-hearing style, and shouted, “What?” but he had already spun away. I watched him. He had that confident, slow swagger, shoulders back, arms swaying a tad too much. I was going to yell out something stupid when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned. It was Ali, Jack’s mother.

I lowered my face, took two more steps—and that was when I spotted Coach Bobby and his buddies in a Ford Expedition. Sigh. All four of them were there: Assistant Coach Pat drove, Coach Bobby was in the passenger seat, the other two slabs of beef sat in the back. I took out my mobile phone and hit the speed-dial button one. Win answered on the first ring. “Articulate,” Win said. That’s how he always answers the phone, even when he can clearly see on the caller ID that it’s me, and yes, it is annoying. “You better circle back,” I said. “Oh,” Win said, his voice kid-on-Christmas-morning happy, “goodie, goodie.

I lowered my face, took two more steps—and that was when I spotted Coach Bobby and his buddies in a Ford Expedition. Sigh. All four of them were there: Assistant Coach Pat drove, Coach Bobby was in the passenger seat, the other two slabs of beef sat in the back. I took out my mobile phone and hit the speed-dial button one. Win answered on the first ring. “Articulate,” Win said. That’s how he always answers the phone, even when he can clearly see on the caller ID that it’s me, and yes, it is annoying. “You better circle back,” I said. “Oh,” Win said, his voice kid-on-Christmas-morning happy, “goodie, goodie.” “How long will it take?” “I’m just down the street. I suspected something like this might occur.” “Don’t shoot anyone,” I said. “Yes, Mother.” My car was parked near the back of the lot. The Expedition followed slowly. The drizzle picked up a bit. I wondered what their plan was—something moronically macho, no doubt—and decided to just play it as it lays. Win’s Jag appeared and waited in the distance. I drive a Ford Taurus, aka The Chick Trawler. Win hates my car. He won’t sit in it. I took out my keys and hit the remote. The car made that little ding noise and unlocked. I slipped inside. The Expedition made its big move then. It raced forward and stopped directly behind the Taurus, blocking me in. Coach Bobby jumped out first, petting his goatee. His two buddies followed. I

When I boarded the plane, I found to my surprise that Tatum had decided to return to Norman with the team rather than go to Maryland. .... When I saw Tatum on board, I had momentary regret that I had abandoned [my other flight]. I had no desire to spend several hours on the flight with him; I had learned from past encounters that he could talk endlessly, with exhausting intensity. Hoping to avoid him, I walked to the front end of the DC-4 and took a seat on the right side next to the window; but I had scarcely sat down when Tatum plumped down beside me. He spent the first few minutes telling me how unethical he thought I had been to offer one of his assistant coaches the head coaching job at OU before he resigned and only hours before his team was to compete in a bowl game. He was offended and hurt, he said, by such treatment. I listened patiently, with the unhappy thought that there would be several hours of such conversation before I could find relief at the journey's end. However, shortly after takeoff we ran into turbulent air. The plane rose over a series of updrafts and dropped violently between them. Tatum, who was not a good air traveler, soon began to feel the effects. When he stopped talking for a moment, I glanced at him and noticed that he had begun to turn a little pale. The paleness soon turned to a greenish cast, and I had a feeling that my problem might be solved. Finally, when he became noticeably ill, I signaled for a hostess and suggested to my sick friend that we remove the armrest between the two seats so that he could lie down. I would find a seat elsewhere. He accepted the suggestion, and when I left him he was in a semireclining position with his head on a pillow, holding a sick sack. We soon got out of the rough air, and I enjoyed most of the rest of the trip, visiting with as many members of the squad as I could.

Helping professionals, therapists, life coaches, healers can greatly assist you in changing your life for the better, but they pale in comparison to the power thats gained from developing a relationship with yourself. It's you that holds the power for change

According to the principles Johan Cruyff introduced to Barcelona, coaches should lead by example: play football, be on the field during training and teach, because there is nothing better than stopping the game, correcting and instructing, explaining why someone needed to pass to a certain player, move to a particular position or change an element of their technique. That’s how Carles Rexach, Cruyff ’s assistant for eight years at Barcelona, explains it: ‘One word from Johan during a training drill is worth more than a hundred hours of talks at the blackboard.

From kindergarten through senior year of high school, Evan attended Crossroads, an elite, coed private school in Santa Monica known for its progressive attitudes. Tuition at Crossroads runs north of $ 22,000 a year, and seemingly rises annually. Students address teachers by their first names, and classrooms are named after important historical figures, like Albert Einstein and George Mead, rather than numbered. The school devotes as significant a chunk of time to math and history as to Human Development, a curriculum meant to teach students maturity, tolerance, and confidence. Crossroads emphasizes creativity, personal communication, well-being, mental health, and the liberal arts. The school focuses on the arts much more than athletics; some of the school’s varsity games have fewer than a dozen spectators. 2 In 2005, when Evan was a high school freshman, Vanity Fair ran an exhaustive feature about the school titled “School for Cool.” 3 The school, named for Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken,” unsurprisingly attracts a large contingent of Hollywood types, counting among its alumni Emily and Zooey Deschanel, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jack Black, Kate Hudson, Jonah Hill, Michael Bay, Maya Rudolph, and Spencer Pratt. And that’s just the alumni—the parents of students fill out another page or two of who’s who A-listers. Actor Denzel Washington once served as the assistant eighth grade basketball coach, screenwriter Robert Towne spoke in a film class, and cellist Yo-Yo Ma talked shop with the school’s chamber orchestra.

Simon Graves, Nottingham, a teacher with a lot of knowledge in the English world, now decided to write books for his students. He also gives lectures on the internet about the English language and is very good at it. In his years of instructing, he's had loads of tasks. Simon Greaves, Nottingham, started and developed an internet coaching company, mainly focusing on assisting education leaders and individuals searching for career assistance. Keep in mind that he has over 20 years of expertise to draw upon.

I will assist you to become an Auror if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!

As a Life Coach, I am passionate about assisting my clients in setting and reaching goals. What I discovered is that while people were quick to make goals in areas such as business, sales, health, and finances, goal setting in the area of faith/spirituality was rarely considered, yet this area is foundational to all others.

— Exceptional success requires exceptional circumstances. Wayne Smith, former All Blacks assistant coach

coaches would know; writers, most of whom at least try to talk to insiders; former jocks; former greats, most of whom know the game, but can’t explain it because of how easily it came to them or because it was simpler in their day; NFL assistant coaches; NFL head coaches; winning NFL head coaches; Super Bowl–winning head coaches; and finally, at the very top of arcane knowledge and expertise in a faintly ridiculous corner of American intellectual esotery, Bill Belichick.

During the team’s flight back home to New York, Scott—who played ten scoreless minutes and was shooting 30 percent and averaging 2.9 points through his first fifteen games—sought to lighten the mood, cracking jokes on the plane. In a way, this was who Scott had always been: a lighthearted person who often looked for ways to laugh in overly tense situations. By contrast, that was not who Van Gundy was. The coach, often miserable in normal circumstances, was far more miserable after losses. Following home defeats, those who traversed the Garden’s hallways knew they might hear Van Gundy shouting, tipping over his desk, or punching a wall in his office. And whenever the Knicks played on the road—win or lose—Van Gundy usually had limited patience for outbursts on the team plane. “We were on a flight coming back from a preseason [win], and I got in trouble for yelling, ‘Yes! Let’s go Mets!’ after they clinched a spot in the World Series [in 2000],” says Hamdan, the club’s assistant trainer. “The next day, he calls me into his office and says I need to have more respect for the sanctity of winning and losing. And I told him: ‘Jeff, the sanctity of winning and losing is why I yelled “Let’s go Mets!” They just made the World Series!’ And he just looks at me and says, ‘Get the fuck outta my office.’ ” Van Gundy let Hamdan slide with a warning. But Scott wouldn’t enjoy that same grace. Seeking to send a message, the coach made a bold, unilateral choice to bypass Grunfeld and cut Scott from the team the morning after the flight.

The definition of codependent is pretty serious. Some call it love, but that’s what I call dangerously in love. That is not healthy for the long haul. It can drive you insane if your existence depends on your partner’s existence. That’s why it is imperative that you fix yourself first. Do the work to learn, heal, forgive, and grow. Heal from the pain of your past. Heal from the abuse, abandonment, hurt, and pain. Gain new knowledge, and grow from those past experiences. Hire a therapist and life coach if you need professional insight and assistance in your process of healing. Make the investment in yourself, and get the help you need. It’s very dangerous to depend on another human being for validation.

The easy way to define the value of professional coaching is to describe it as a coach assisting or guiding another person or group of people to reach their personal or professional goals.

Now she knew there were any number of jobs that got you close – agent, assistant, stylist, florist, masseuse, clairvoyant, life coach, dog walker – but brought up on a diet of Heat and Hello!, journalism was the only way in that she could think of with the talents she had available.

It’s been said that when one of Wooden’s players asked, “Coach, what happens if I point to the player who gave me the assist and he isn’t watching?” Coach Wooden replied, “He will always be watching.” People desire validation and encouragement. It’s human nature.

Shaye and Bob Woodward have 40 years of combined experience in teaching, coaching, and writing material for the benefit of God’s children. Both are Certified Relationship Specialists as well as Certified Life Coaches. Over the past 15 years, they have volunteered countless hours in service to those lacking in knowledge and skill. They have donated time and effort in teaching classes, seminars, and individual coaching sessions to assist people in learning, growing, creating, and becoming more than they were before. The results have been phenomenal and rewarding at the same time. This book was created by them to allow all those who would receive it to move forward in happiness, joy, and peace. It is the first of a series of books designed for this purpose.

Mike Phelan, Sir Alex Ferguson’s last assistant manager, said that one of his greatest contributions to the Ferguson leadership was to make his boss laugh. In my interviews, the same comedic quality was attributed to another of Ferguson’s coaches, Steve McClaren, to both John Prescott and Alastair Campbell for Tony Blair, and Nicki Chapman for her many artistes. Funny Cs can break down the structure of A opinion, and put it back together somehow modified, all in a pleasurable whirl.

But in real life, the good boys are all hiding the fact that they’re really bad boys, and no one believes it until it’s too late. That’s why her friend Kaylin got raped by the assistant basketball coach and had to leave school last year. He, of course, is now the head coach. Because there wasn’t any evidence, and when it came down to Kaylin’s word versus everyone else, Kaylin lost. Good basketball coaches are hard to find.

Having a mentor, at a certain point in your career, is highly beneficial and necessary for some.

I assist individuals who want to achieve their goals and dreams in life. I love the grit, struggle. and passion of individuals.

I assist individuals who want to achieve their goals and dreams in life. I love the grit, struggle, and passion of individuals.

It was one of those strange handicaps that afflicted gentlefolk, that they could not open a door for themselves, nor get in or out of a coach without someone to assist them.

I need you, Maddie. I can handle the business end of things, but I'm still learning hockey and player relations. The team thinks I'm a puff bunny. Madden's brows furrowed and then a deep laugh shook his shoulders. "Puck bunny. And jeez, what'd you do?" "Nothing! I didn't do anything. My first day, Coach Finley quit and I needed someone to run practices, so I went down to the rink and asked Carter where the assistant coach was." "Carter... Phlynn? And I bet you called him Carter in front of the whole team. Now I get it." Jacey swatted her brother's shoulder. He smirked, so she pinched him. "I don't see what the big deal is. What's wrong with first names?" "Nothing. If you're on the team or sleeping with them. Pro sports are about last names and nicknames, Jace.

Getting assistance for a better career is convenient for those in colleges and high schools, however, it is better for the elderly as well. Identify your EQ strengths to drive results and maintain relationships with Karen Blake Coaching. We are a certified Career Coaching Company in South Wales, helping people maximize their professional and personal potential. Our training centre located in Merthyr Tydfil, South Wales.

Chastain had watched teammates like Mia Hamm and Julie Foudy end their careers with testimonial matches—the special farewell games that important players earn—but she was never going to get one. Her last game was the final stop of the post-Olympics victory tour in 2004, the same last game as Hamm and Foudy, only Chastain didn’t know it at the time. “It wasn’t on my radar—it wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Chastain says. “He was the assistant coach. I’m not sure how he became coach of the national team, to be honest, and there was no discussion.” Shannon MacMillan, another veteran, tells a similar story. She, too, was surprised to find herself left off rosters, but in her case, it was because Greg Ryan had reassured her that she was in his plans. As time went on and she still hadn’t gotten a call, at age 31 she gave up hope of ever returning to the team. Her career ended at 176 caps. “I was like, Enough’s enough,” she says. “That’s kind of what forced my hand into retiring. I just got sick and tired of the politics and the B.S.

But that streak wouldn’t come easily. First, Greg Ryan had to make the worst coaching mistake in the history of the national team—a miscalculation that fractured the team and tested the culture built by the players who came before. * * * The national team was two days from the 2007 World Cup semifinal versus Brazil when an assistant coach leaned over to Hope Solo. Solo was sitting at a table in the team’s meal room at their hotel in China when the assistant told her Greg Ryan wanted to talk to her once she was finished eating dinner.

As I was saying,” Ashlynn said loudly, “your Drama Club teacher asked me to do an acting exercise with you.” “Excuse me!” Jazmine raised her hand. “Excuse me!” “Yes?” Ashlynn looked over our way. I scrunched down again. “We’re not all Drama Club students,” Jazmine said. “Many of us have an important mathletes competition. Perhaps our time would be better served if we left now to go study.” Jazmine started to stand up. “Sit down, Ms. James!” Mrs. Burkle’s voice boomed. “This cultural experience is valuable for all Geckos. You will remain.” Jazmine sighed and sat back down. “Ha-ha,” Sydney sang under her breath. “I’ll share a theater exercise I learned in my exclusive acting class with world-renowned acting coach Harriet Greenspan,” Ashlynn said. “Hm, I will need some volunteers to assist me.” I could not have slumped down any farther without being under my seat. “First, the girl who already volunteered,” Ashlynn said. She pointed at Jazmine. “What?” Jazmine sputtered. “I didn’t volunteer.

That’s why her friend Kaylin got raped by the assistant basketball coach and had to leave school last year. He, of course, is now the head coach. Because there wasn’t any evidence, and when it came down to Kaylin’s word versus everyone else, Kaylin lost. Good basketball coaches are hard to find.

Another great coach, Bill Walsh (who oversaw three Super Bowl Championship teams at the San Francisco 49ers), emphasized the importance of personal and positive encouragement. Walsh would shake hands and say a positive personal word of encouragement to every player just before each game. He also asked his assistant coaches to acknowledge each player, shake his hand, and offer supportive thoughts.

Hall of Fame football coach John Madden, in a documentary about Vince Lombardi, told a story about how, as a young assistant coach, he attended a coaching clinic where Lombardi spoke about one play: the power sweep, a running play that he made famous with the Green Bay Packers in the 1960s. Lombardi held the audience spellbound as he described that one play for eight hours. Madden said, “I went in there cocky, thinking I knew everything there was to know about football, and he spent eight hours talking about this one play. . . . I realized then that I actually knew nothing about football.

Bill Walsh was not afraid of talent. He hired assistant coaches who were extremely good, and he did it with the expectation that they would move on—up to head coaching positions. And in fact, about fifteen of them did. He didn’t feel that you sold your soul to the company store. While you were a 49er, you were expected to give it your all, but Bill was very enlightened in the way he supported the lives and careers of employees beyond just what they could do for his team.

As an assistant coach at Picayune High School, he helped a team that had gone 0–10 the year before…to go 0–10 again. “With all my expertise in coaching,” he wrote, “we came close to winning a game.

Traveling with us did have its advantages. Before Barack’s presidency was over, our girls would enjoy a baseball game in Havana, walk along the Great Wall of China, and visit the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio one evening in magical, misty darkness. But it could also be a pain in the neck, especially when we were trying to tend to things unrelated to the presidency. Earlier in Malia’s junior year, the two of us had gone to spend a day visiting colleges in New York City, for instance, setting up tours at New York University and Columbia. It had worked fine for a while. We’d moved through NYU’s campus at a brisk pace, our efficiency aided by the fact that it was still early and many students were not yet up for the day. We’d checked out classrooms, poked our heads into a dorm room, and chatted with a dean before heading uptown to grab an early lunch and move on to the next tour. The problem is that there’s no hiding a First Lady–sized motorcade, especially on the island of Manhattan in the middle of a weekday. By the time we finished eating, about a hundred people had gathered on the sidewalk outside the restaurant, the commotion only breeding more commotion. We stepped out to find dozens of cell phones hoisted in our direction as we were engulfed by a chorus of cheers. It was beneficent, this attention—“Come to Columbia, Malia!” people were shouting—but it was not especially useful for a girl who was trying quietly to imagine her own future. I knew immediately what I needed to do, and that was to bench myself—to let Malia go see the next campus without me, sending Kristin Jones, my personal assistant, as her escort instead. Without me there, Malia’s odds of being recognized went down. She could move faster and with a lot fewer agents. Without me, she could maybe, possibly, look like just another kid walking the quad. I at least owed her a shot at that. Kristin, in her late twenties and a California native, was like a big sister to both my girls anyway. She’d come to my office as a young intern, and along with Kristen Jarvis, who until recently had been my trip director, was instrumental in our family’s life, filling some of these strange gaps caused by the intensity of our schedules and the hindering nature of our fame. “The Kristins,” as we called them, stood in for us often. They served as liaisons between our family and Sidwell, setting up meetings and interacting with teachers, coaches, and other parents when Barack and I weren’t able. With the girls, they were protective, loving, and far hipper than I’d ever be in the eyes of my kids. Malia and Sasha trusted them implicitly, seeking their counsel on everything from wardrobe and social media to the increasing proximity of boys. While Malia toured Columbia that afternoon, I was put into a secure holding area designated by the Secret Service—what turned out to be the basement of an academic building on campus—where I sat alone and unnoticed until it was time to leave, wishing I’d at least brought a book to read.

For example, some customer service agents might run for many years in optimized learning environments, assisted by coaches and performance evaluators. The best of these trainees would then be used like studs, serving as templates from which millions of fresh copies are stamped out each day. Great effort would be poured into improving the performance of such worker templates, because even a small increment in productivity would yield great economic value when applied in millions of copies.

And maybe you shouldn’t coach.” Assistant Coach Pat stepped forward then. He looked at me, and that knowing smile I was all too familiar with spread across his face. “Well, well, well.” Coach Bobby said, “What?” “Do you know who this guy is?” “Who?” “Myron Bolitar.

To Coach Brantford, I could do almost nothing right. He told me that I didn’t play tough enough, I didn’t hit anybody and that my skating and passing needed a lot of work. If you came to a practice or a game, you’d have never known that I scored 25 goals & had 39 assists what with Coach Brantford always harping on me about something I was doing wrong.

Before they’re done my internal monologue is already going through the paces: Robert Loggia’s sure had some interesting parts over the years, hasn’t he? Like when he played that growly assistant football coach in Necessary Roughness. And that leads me to: Hey, you know who else made an appearance in that movie? Roger Craig. And the next thing you know, I’m at Memorial Stadium. Again. This time it’s 1981, and Roger’s dressed in red, jetting 94 yards down the Astroturf for a touchdown, with a pair of Florida State defenders helplessly flapping along in his wake. The school record for longest run from scrimmage that was, and it stood for twenty years, until Eric Crouch got 95 with that impossible run at Mizzou. And that gets me to consider: Who’d win in a footrace between Crouch and Craig, if Craig were in his prime, of course? Hmmm…

Dоublе Kettlebell Military Prеѕѕ Clеаn twо kеttlеbеllѕ tо your shoulders. Brеаthе in аѕ уоu clean thе bells tо thе rack роѕitiоn. Hоld the kеttlеbеllѕ in tight аgаinѕt your core аѕ if you аrе a bоxеr bracing fоr a рunсh. Try tо tоuсh your еlbоwѕ tо уоur midsection so thаt уоu hаvе a strong fоundаtiоn tо press оff оf. The ѕhоrtеѕt distance bеtwееn two lосаtiоnѕ iѕ a ѕtrаight linе. Rеmеmbеr that when уоu dо the оvеrhеаd рrеѕѕ. Imаginе thаt thе bеllѕ are connected and that уоu are рrеѕѕing a bаrbеll. Press thе bеllѕ uр аnd оut оnlу аѕ muсh аѕ necessary tо соmрlеtе thе exercise. Aѕ the kettlebells раѕѕ your head, lеаn intо thе bells ѕlightlу ѕо that thеу аrе lосkеd out bеhind уоur head. Tаkе a bench press tip frоm lеgеndаrу роwеrlifting coach Lоuiе Simmons аnd lоwеr thе kеttlеbеllѕ with уоur lаtѕ. Your lаtѕ аrе much ѕtrоngеr muѕсlеѕ thаn your shoulders аnd will assist in ѕtаbilizing the ѕhоuldеrѕ fоr mаximum strength. Lоwеring two kеttlеbеllѕ iѕ уоur сhаnсе tо gеt уоur lats loaded up fоr thе nеxt press.

Jason Gesser is an American college football former coach born in 31 May, 1979. He is a former player, former assistant Athletic director for major gifts at WSU. He played for Washington State University under head coach Mike Price. In February 2019 Jason Gesser was hired as the quarterbacks' coach at Wyoming under fourth-year head coach Dave Christensen.

Good stories are thematic and thought provoking. Every story has a meaning to the teller; sometimes the actual meaning of the story is latent. Is storytelling evidence of how we go about taking measure of our action-filled lives? Do stories tell how we hunker down in a foxhole in an all-out effort to survive? Does storytelling also pay homage to how the mind is predisposed to roam about in a cloudbank while we are belly crawling on the battlefield of time? Does the sprawl of our stories delve into what cinematic themes we find worthy of living for and risk death chasing? What does the synecdoche of our stories tell us about people and how does this knowledge assist us fit into this diverse world as individuals? Do self-selected stories guide us in choosing how to go about life? Does the hard kernel of our personal story allow us to reconcile how we actually live with how other well-meaning people coached us to live? Do poignant stories of our generation tell us whether we should aim for a life of leisure, aspire to acquire wealth, pine to take pleasurable junkets, maneuver to climb the ladder of social prestige, altruistically give to charity, or stoically sacrifice personal delight in order to mollify a religious deity? What does the sanctified marrow of cherished stories tell us about life?

To develop influence, you have to teach other people how to think. Much of this comes through coaching and training and, again, role-modeling the behavior. Provide a safe, yet challenging, place for people to come to help them work through their thinking, and then hold them accountable to taking action. Push your team members. Issue them challenges and see who rises to the occasion. Regardless of your title, when you are challenging others to think differently and to become the best version of themselves by trying new things and getting out of their comfort zone, you can’t help but be seen as a leader.