Bare Knuckle Management Movement

Twins - Destined for Greatness

2011-03-21T08:44:00.000-07:00

An email I sent this morning to the parents of a team I'll be coaching this spring:

Parents:

Yes, there might be snow on the ground on this first day of spring, but warmer, sunnier days lie ahead. As evidence, I deliver you the following exciting news from Pelham Little League baseball:

Your son or daughter has been drafted by one of Pelham's elite recreation baseball teams, the American League Twins. We have an extroadinarily proud tradition. I have never, ever lost a title as manager of the American League Twins, and this year will be no exception.

Please see the attached official final roster. No, those are not typos - that's really our team. Assistant coaches, Dougherty and Zale, and I combed through mountains of data - school and medical records, each player's historical statistics, teacher interviews, and, of course, genetic data - to find the true gems available in this year's draft.

When I examined our final roster and saw names like Min, Koff, Tam, Soderberg, Conrad, White and Mackool, I honestly wondered what draft list the other managers could possibly have been choosing from. I've coached a few of these greats before, most recently on last year's T-Ball Tigers, so I knew we'd get some returning talent. And, though it might have appeared as though I spent all of last season goofing around on the field, I was taking careful stock of pockets of talent around the league. From the looks of things, I was able to draft them all.

Please sit tight as I await information about field availability and regular season and post-season schedules from the League. As you probably know, Pelham field space is at a premium in spring, so we will unfortunately not be permitted to schedule two-a-day practices. (If I've told Pelham Little League once, I've told them a thousand times: player development needs to be a priority. Apparently, my message has fallen on deaf ears.) In fact, most of our practice time will take place right before we play games. It's a good thing we drafted so well - we won't need much practice.

Most managers these days aim for "fun." That's all fine and well, unless you want to win championships, which I very much do. My "fun" happens when I "win." And, though the PLL rules expressly state, "No score is kept. No wins or losses.", rest assured I'll be keeping score and that we'll be winning. The trophies that every kid gets at the end of the season will actually mean something to our kids.

By way of logistics:

· I will need some help coordinating snack time. Last season I had the distinct pleasure of working with Tigers' Snack Czar, Sheri Min, who served admirably. But I believe I'll be moving in a different direction this year. See, she's only a doctor--an OB-GYN, to be precise. Nutrition being as important as it is, I'm desperately hoping one among you is a registered dietician or nutritionist (or a physician with particular expertise in pediatric nurtrition). If interested, please send a detailed resume.

· Coaches Dougherty and Zale and I will likely need extra assistant coaches. (Kindly cast aside any fantasies of actually possessing any control or influence over this team - I won't even let Dougherty or Zale have that, and you'll technically fall beneath them on the org chart.) Our drills are incredibly complex, and our secret success sauce can be boiled down to our ability to provide individualized attention.

American League baseball is a big commitment - at least an hour a week. Please speak with your first grader today and make sure he or she is committed to greatness. It will be a wonderful season - it always is.

That's all for now. Again, I'll send along practice/game information when I receive it.

Welcome to the Twins!

Sean O'Neil, Team Manager

Twins

Let’s Hop on a Call!

2011-03-17T15:14:00.000-07:00

Got an idea today when I opened my calendar and saw, horror of horrors, a perfectly clean slate. My To Do list was long—

1. complete materials for an upcoming presentation,

2. finalize a proposal,

3. follow up with two people who have already received proposals, and

4. draft a partnership agreement.

But I had nothing actually booked on my calendar, and like so many others, I gauge my value by how scheduled I am.

On Judgment Day, they’ll look to my calendar and asked what I did with all my time. I need to fill a block or two. Better schedule a conference call:

· I’ll draft a “High Importance” email, and add an attention-grabbing subject header to turn heads—“URGENT, MANDATORY, ALL HANDS CALL TODAY!!!!” That ought to do it.

· I’ll turn the email into one of those Outlook invitations, so when people click to “Accept,” the call will appear on their calendars too.

· I’ll have my assistant send the email (I wouldn’t look very busy if others knew I knew how to do anything so administrative).

· I’ll intentionally invite many more people than necessary, which will add to the sense of urgency I’m trying to create and demonstrate how far my span of influence reaches.

· I’ll include people across many time zones, which will allow us to fill any beginning-of-the-call awkwardness with surfacey questions about the weather in other parts of the world (an international call, of course—I’m big time, baby), and how early or late it is there or here.

· As the call initiator, I’ll arrive late, so others will be forced to sit in isolated, hold-music-filled virtual chambers, anticipating my arrival with frantic texts to each other—“is anyone else on?”, “it’s 2 EASTERN time, right?”

· When I arrive, I’ll sound breathless and apologize profusely that “my 1 o’clock ran over” and apologize again that I have a “hard stop at 3” and thank everyone for making the call on such short notice and add “but I think we all agree that with all the emails flying back and forth, we had no choice but to get the relevant parties on a call ASAP.”

· I’ll begin with, “We have a lot to get through, so let’s get started.” I’ll state firmly the “purpose for this call,” and list out “today’s jam-packed agenda” and “our desired outcomes.” I’ll pretend I’m throwing these together on the spot, but I’ll have them carefully scripted so I come off as coherent, well-organized, and solid on my feet.

· I’ll take this call from a conference room so I can put attendees on speakerphone and talk over them and pretend I don’t hear them when they’re trying to talk.

· Also, I’ll have people from “my side” in my conference room so I can periodically mute our phone and make classic witty jokes at the expense of the rambling dopes from “the other side.” We’ll all laugh like crazy.

· I’ll exert my authority periodically and strategically: “Who’s going to take ownership of that?” and “Can we hear from someone over in engineering? You guys have to weigh in on this, and you’ve been awfully quiet.”

· With all we have to get through, and with so many people on the call, and with all my witty muted jokes to colleagues and strategically-timed authority exertions, we accomplish little.

· Promptly at 2:56, I'll say, apologetically, “Hey, I’m going to have to run to my 3. As I indicated, it’s a hard stop. Looks like we’re going to need to hop on another call tomorrow to tie up the remaining loose ends.”

· We'll agree on a time. I'll tell them I’ll have my assistant “shoot out another invitation” and add that “we can use the same bridge.”

I'll leave the conference room in a hurry, but pleased. While we will have accomplished little, we have a plan to move closer to accomplishment tomorrow. Best part is that I will have taken no ownership of anything other than setting up tomorrow’s call, and now I can actually get to my To Do list.

I’m very busy, you see. But don’t just take my word for it… take a look at my crowded calendar.

About Sean O'Neil

Sean O’Neil is an expert in workplace and team dynamics. He is also Principal and CEO of One to One Leadership (www.one2oneleadership.com), a sales and management training firm with clients that include the National Basketball Association, Major League Soccer, News Corporation, First Data, ADP, Xerox, the Oakland Raiders and the New York Knicks. Sean and John Kulisek co-authored Bare Knuckle People Management: Creating Success with the Team You Have – Winners, Losers, Misfits and All, which is due to be published in May 2011. Sean has contributed to or been featured in, among others, The New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, Selling Power Magazine and Incentive Magazine. He can also frequently be seen pacing the sidelines of a youth team he’s coaching.

Got beat by an 8-word email

2011-03-15T15:43:00.000-07:00

Yep, 8 freaking words completely altered the course of my day. I was sailing along, feeling 100% bullet-proof, when all of a sudden the little zinger pinged my inbox. I clicked it open, read the 8 words, and my good spirits washed out of me in a nanosecond.

No, the 8 words were not: “Your wife was killed by a great white!” or anything calamitous like that. (And no, Erin dear, this wasn’t an email from you, so close your Sent folder and keep reading.)

The day-wrecking email, whose sender shall remain anonymous, was this:

“Still no explanation and no statement for February!”

I know, it means absolutely nothing to you—and knowing the sender, I can make an honest case that he didn't send it to harm—but it completely shut me down.

The sender’s 8 words have been haunting me all day: “Hello?! Anyone home? You’ve completely failed me on two fronts, Sean. You’ve greeted my completely reasonable requests with silence. What, too busy blogging and promoting your stupid book to tend to your clients? Huh? Stop diddling and get this done. Ahhhhh!”

Was it the email’s exclamation point that stung me? Perhaps. In email, I am particularly sensitive to:

· exclamation points,

· ALL CAPS (stop yelling at me!), and

· “Please advise.” (Am I the only one who hates “Please advise.”? It so smacks of condescension that I literally wince every time I read it. “Look, schmuck, you screwed this up and now you better fix it. It’s entirely on your shoulders. God help us. Please advise.” Ugh!)

Or was it what the sender didn’t say that got my little panties caught in a bunch?

“Dear Sean, I’m sure you’re slaving away on so many earth-moving and monumental things. But when you get a moment in your busy life, I'd love to know the answer to my relatively unimportant question. Oh also, I'd like to see the February statement. Love you! Me”

Now look, nearly everyone who’s ever emailed me anything has faced a question or two from me about the (real or imagined) message behind the message. Among my friends and associates, I am notoriously thin skinned, and routinely read into emails and agonize over, among other things:

· what’s written and not unwritten,

· punctuation,

· subject headers, and

· where I fall on the sender’s distribution list.

For the record, I realize I’m crazier about these things than most, though check out this reinforcing clip from Stephen Colbert:

This post has three cautionary messages for you, dear reader:

1. When emailing me with a call for action: Be careful what you write and don’t write, how you punctuate, and how your subject header reads. And always be sure to put me near the top of your distribution list (otherwise, I’ll be convinced I was added as an afterthought, burst into tears, and stop reading). For what it’s worth, I still haven’t provided the explanation or February’s statement.

2. When emailing others with a call for action: Think about whom your sending your emails to, and think carefully if they’re remotely as paranoid-afflicted as I am. If they are—or even if they might be—wrap some love into those emails. It’ll only take a second longer, and it’s likely to keep your audience feeling bullet-proof, and keeping them focused on getting you what you need. This isn’t about doling out warm fuzzies for the sake of doling out warm fuzzies. This is about managing the many and varied personalities in your world, and reducing the drama so you can get your message across and get your requirements met.

3. If you’re the Anonymous 8-Word Emailer, and have been willing to put away your selfish needs long enough to read this post: I am paralyzed by the trauma you inflicted on me. The next time we speak (which might not be for weeks, because I’ll be actively avoiding your calls and follow-up emails), I will consider forgiving you, but only if you first apologize to me without me tipping off to you what I’m so upset about. In the meantime I’ll consider giving you an explanation, but don’t even think about getting your February statement.

About Sean O'Neil

Talking Much, Saying Nothing

2011-03-14T15:38:00.000-07:00

Coaches are the biggest culprits. Why do they answer the simplest questions with cliché-laden paragraphs packed with tons of words that manage to communicate nothing at all? Don’t know what I mean? Here’s a classic clip involving Seattle Seahawks head coach, Pete Carroll, talking endlessly and saying absolutely nothing.

From what I gather, coaches use coach babble for one of at least three reasons:

1. Fishing for Words. Coaches often ramble because they are unable to find the precise set of words to answer a question briefly. Legendary coaches like Knute Rockne aside, most are not widely regarded as word connoisseurs, so they’re forced to expend extra words while circling around the point they wish to slam home. I refer to this as the “we won’t run into them at a MENSA meeting” reason for coach babble.

2. Mimicking Others. This is the one that burns me the most, and I think it’s the biggest cause of this coaches’ epidemic. Who wrote the coaching manual that coaches are required to read before taking the job? Coach speak includes:

· “we just need to take this one game at a time”

· “we just need to take care of what we can control”

· “we don’t want to get ahead of ourselves”

· “we’re just going to approach this game like it’s any other”

The only explanation for the incessant use of throwaway phrases like these is that coaches think you have to say them to be considered a real coach. Coaches also pace the sidelines, animatedly holler at referees, and publicly debase their players on national television. They do as the other coaches do. Ever hear one of those over-the-top mic’d up pre-game locker room speeches? Please. (Incidentally, is there any reason why more coaches don’t mimic John Wooden, arguably the best coach that’s ever lived? Who was at one point, notably, an English teacher!)

3. Withholding Info. Giving coaches the greatest credit possible would be to position their babble as a strategic way of not revealing game plans or team-specific secrets. Ok, stop laughing. Mike Krzyzewski and Joe Torre appear to deliberately reveal very little about what goes on behind their proverbial curtains during their interviews, and yet they answer every question at length.

Costs of Talking Much, Saying Nothing

Who cares, right? What about corporate managers who do the very same thing? Are there costs to those who lean too heavily on coach—or manager—babble when communicating with their teams? (Click here to see a great list of classic manager babble phrases.) Here are a few:

1. Diluted Message. The more words you say to get your points across, the less likely it is that people will actually get the message you’re trying to communicate.

2. Employee Tune-Out. If you regularly fly into predictable manager babble, employees will inevitably turn their focus somewhere else. It’s not personal. They’re acting efficiently! If you’re delivering a same song and dance routine they’ve heard countless times, your people will find ways to make better use of their time. They know they’re not missing anything substantive if you’re talking but saying nothing.

3. Disconnectedness. In my company’s employee surveys we conduct with clients, among the most sought after qualities in a leader employees list is “realness.” Tough to be real when you’re constantly recycling other people's words and trying to be someone other than yourself.

Your team doesn’t need you to be Knute Rockne. But a little forethought about what your core message is and how you plan to say it—in your own words!— can go a long way toward tightening your message, keeping your employees engaged and focused, and connecting with them in a real and meaningful way.

About Sean O'Neil

Herding Tigers for Life

2011-03-09T20:32:00.000-08:00

When my wife Erin told me that she signed me up to coach our daughter Olivia’s t-ball team last spring, an audible “oh no, please no” escaped from my lips. Olivia and her would-be teammates—the Tigers—were 5 years old. Ever coach a team of 5 year olds at anything? No? Envision yourself as a perfectly skilled shepherd completely at peace with yourself and your role and your lot in life. And then imagine someone suddenly swaps out your sheep for baby tiger cubs. Right.

“Now, now,” Erin said, “You owe this to Olivia. She’s watched you coach her siblings for years, and it’s finally her turn. She’s really excited.” So I vowed to suck it up and make the best of this…um…opportunity to herd tiger cubs.

I began the season with one major objective: make these Tigers have so much fun that all 10 would want to continue playing baseball the following year. (Some would consider this goal unambitious, but I would tell them to just chill – they’re 5!)

Out of the gates, I actually tried to teach baseball skills. Silly me. I didn’t want to do that, so why on earth would my Tigers? They were cold and bored and rambunctious. There might have been one future major leaguer among them, but I couldn’t for the life of me determine who it could possibly be.

So I abruptly changed course, and we spent our time together growling like tigers and running relays and playing keep away and growling some more. Before each game, we’d circle up, put our hands in the middle, and growl to intimidate our opponents. And it must’ve worked, because we finished each and every game in a Tiger pile at home plate, after the last batter rounded the bases and we “won” by 1 run in the bottom of the ninth (in our league no one kept score, no one got out, and every player batted every inning). The kids learned very little baseball, but no one other than a couple of the most psycho-competitive parents (whose kids didn’t need to learn much baseball anyway) cared.

After the last game – against the only town team loaded with future major leaguers, and against whom we nevertheless taunted with a Tiger pile at home plate at game’s end – I gathered my Tigers around and delivered some version of the following hammed up (as much for the surrounding parents and myself as the kids), impassioned post-game speech:

Team, we became Tigers this season…each and every one of us. When we first met, I had no idea what kind of baseball team we’d make. But right now, I can’t imagine ever being part of another. In fact, if I know anything at all in this world, I know that I am a Tiger…for Life. And team, this is a tiny little town we live in, so while our season ends today, we will see each other in the years to come. On the ball field. In the grocery store. At school. And each and every time I see you, I’ll growl…not because I’m angry with you, but to remind you that you too are a Tiger for life.

To this day, I occasionally encounter a Tiger out and about our little town. CJ or Alec or Oliver or Samantha or Viren. And, each and every time, we exchange a growl and a smile. They're six now, and not a one has a baseball scholarship in hand. But we were part of something special back then…and we're Tigers for life...and we won’t let each other forget it.

About Sean O'Neil

Miami Heat Need a Player, Not a Badass

2011-03-08T14:31:00.000-08:00

In his NY Times article, Harvey Araton makes the case that the Miami Heat won’t right themselves until they have someone “who has enough courtside juice on a nightly basis to help [LeBron James] grasp the axiomatic logic that everyone will eventually be better off when less of [James] becomes more.” He with the juice, insists Araton, is Pat Riley, “who, in most cases, outranks the King.”

Araton suggests that the Heat situation comes down to a matter of inserting a coach with more “clout” than LBJ. I respectfully disagree.

Riley is a classic Badass—one who leads like an alpha dog, and aggressively takes on anyone standing between him and a complete hold on power.

Araton presents James as an accidental recipient of his go-to guy role who, because he hasn’t yet played for a coach with clout, has been forced to assume the ball in crunch time. There seems to be an implicit assumption that Riley, as head coach, would finally be the one to look LBJ in the eye and tell him he’s just not good enough in last-second shot situations to warrant the ball…and that LBJ would acquiesce.

Mr. Araton…how much NBA have do you watch these days? The NBA is a league driven by its stars. And in spite of his ludicrously staged “Decision” last summer (or, perhaps, because of it), LBJ is the NBA’s brightest one. We recently saw a (relatively speaking) second-rate star in Deron Williams drive out head coaching legend, Jerry Sloan, because of their season-long battle for supremacy of the Utah Jazz.

Sure, LBJ might give up the ball to D-Wade or Bosch, but not because some Badass coach comes out of retirement and so insists. LBJ will give up the ball when and only when he comes to terms with the fact that it’s in his team’s (and his!) best interest. And he’ll only come to terms with that fact when and only when he has a say in the matter.

The Heat don’t need a Badass for a head coach, they need a Player –one who cajoles and collaborates and strokes egos and pulls strings while he discreetly gets his needs met. A Player needs to bring LBJ and Wade together and help them reach a consensus about how to fix what’s not going well. If a Player can get LBJ and Wade to come up with the “new plan” then they are more likely to own it, and it is therefore more likely to succeed.

Look, current Heat head coach, Erik Spoelstra, might just be that Player. Let’s face it, he’s had a tumultuous season, but each time it appeared as if the wheels were coming completely off, he managed to get the team back on track. More precisely, he allowed D-Wade and LBJ to assert their authority on the team and come up with a new plan of attack.

The cure for the self-entitled superstar is not a Badass who will struggle for authority – that’s the sure way to abruptly end this latest Big Three experiment. The cure lies within Spoelstra’s Player, who can pull the right strings to get his stars to scrap their current end-of-game play and come up with one with a new ending.

About Sean O'Neil

Hold My Hand

2011-03-07T08:19:00.000-08:00

In my house, I proudly refer to myself as the Kid Closer. As long as I was home at kiddie bedtime, my role was to put my four kids away. I became the Mariano Rivera of bedtime. My wife, Erin, would argue that Mariano was a more visible bullpen presence than I ever was in our house around bedtime, but I’ll leave that debate to her blog…should she ever start one.

One day, after a particularly brutal business travel stint, I was immediately ushered back into closer duties to assist with my daughter Julia, who was 4 at the time. Closing Julia was no small task, as she was notoriously clingy and afraid of the dark – it had been a growing problem for Erin. I was exhausted from travel, but Julia needed someone to close her. Erin made a call to the bullpen. Enter Sandman.

After reading Julia one of the many dreadful children’s books parents are forced to read their children, we chatted, as was custom, and then had the following exchange:

Me: Ok kid, 2 minutes, 30 seconds until lights out.

Julia: Wait, Dad, didn’t you hear the new rules?

Me: Rules? Mom made rules for the closer?

Julia: No, not Mom’s rules…My rules.

Me: Oh. You made rules for the closer? No, I haven’t heard. What are they?

Julia: One, no minutes, no seconds. Two, tell me when you’re leaving—don’t just kiss me—tell me AND kiss me. And three, hold my hand so I know when you’re leaving.

Let’s breakdown each of Julia’s rules and their intended message:

Julia’s Rule	Julia’s Message to the Closer
1. No minutes, no seconds.	Guy, enough with the countdown. I can see what you’re doing. When you need to leave, just let me know. The countdown only adds to the stress of your leaving, and I can’t take it.
2. Tell me when you’re leaving—don’t just kiss me—tell me AND kiss me.	You think I’m asleep, and then you slip out of the bed hoping not to wake me. Honestly. How cowardly of you. I want you to man up and tell me when you’re leaving. You at least owe me that, dammit.
3. Hold my hand so I know when you’re leaving.	You’re my father. It would be nice if you acted like it sometimes. Hold my hand, for God’s sake. Would that kill you? (Oh, and it also let’s me know if you’re leaving in case you mess up Rule #2.)

I was taken aback by Julia’s boldness, but I vowed to give the new rules a try. And, what do you know…they worked!

It’s nice when people tell you exactly how they plan to solve a problem and what they need from you to participate in the solution. First, it arms you with direct-from-the-source information about what will make them happy. You can use it to sculpt a winning strategy for dealing with them – for this problem and others. Second, and perhaps more important, they take ownership over the solution, so if it fails, they’re not pointing at you and telling you how much you screwed it up!

With Julia, we more or less follow her rules to this day, and bedtime has become infinitely more pleasant. Sure, we have made some tweaks (for example, I have to open and shut her closet doors each night), but by and large, the bedtime routine runs like clockwork.

It’s been nice for Julia, as bedtime isn’t as tortured as it once was. But it’s been nice for the Kid Closer too, as he’s getting on in years, and can’t be relied upon to get out of the same jams he once did.

About Sean O'Neil

Small People Suck

2011-03-04T10:03:00.000-08:00

Got nothing against little people. (At 5’8”, some would say I should include myself in their ranks.) It’s the Smalls I can’t stand. Small, as in petty. Been battling the Smalls my whole life. They’re everywhere and, like vampires, they suck the life out of you and turn you into one of their own. Maybe that’s why Smalls appear to be growing in number.

Here’s a classic exchange I had recently with a Small – I’ll call him Small Bob – after my partner and I lost a tough platform tennis match against a rival club. For the uninitiated, platform tennis, casually known as paddle, is a racket sport that falls somewhere between tennis and racquetball. Paddle is played outdoors during the winter.

All juicy Small stories have back stories, and the one regarding Small Bob is this: I picked up paddle a few years ago, and having played tennis most of my life, I’ve become fairly good in a relatively short time. I play every chance I get, which helps. My wife would tell you I’m paddle addicted.

Bob has been playing paddle forever, and in recent years has fallen from his place among the area’s better players. Bob might not be 100 years old, but on certain days, when it’s really cold and he’s clinging to a post-paddle, half-consumed beer and has a cigarette dangling from his lips, he might look it. (Ok, that’s Small Sean talking. Shame on me. See, Small Bob is turning me into a Small!)

My paddle partner is Bill – paddle is almost always a doubles game. Bill is the Roger Federer of local paddle players. He’s built like a brick shithouse, runs like a gazelle, and has a knack for making opponents look ridiculous with his crazy spins and dazzling backward, between-the-legs shots. He’s not nationally ranked, but could be. Bill is a paddle stud, and I’m lucky to be partnered with him. Everyone knows it. He knows it (but would never say). I know it, and joke about it freely. And some, like Small Bob, know it, and take every opportunity to remind me just how lucky I am to be paired with someone as skilled as Bill.

Here’s the exchange after the match the other night:

Small Bob: Nice playing, Bill. You played well.

Me: Um, thanks…but I’m Sean.

Small Bob: Yes, I know. I was talking to Bill.

Me: (feeling shittier already) Oh.

Small Bill: (smiling sarcastically) Don’t worry, Sean. We’ll get you a good partner one of these days. I’ll see what I can do to get you paired with someone who can actually play.

Me: (slouched over and moving toward my car, muttering under my breath) Go to hell, Bob.

Smalls are a nightmare. They’re adept at finding the right buttons to push, and when you wince in pain after they press the right one, they zero in on that button. Knocking you down seems to make Smalls feel bigger.

I’ve tried everything to minimize the impact of Smalls on my life:

· Ignoring them: they know you’re listening and wincing inside…they’ll just keep coming

· Yelling at Them: sure, then you look like the lunatic because others don’t know the back story

· Trying not to Let it Bother You: yeah, right

· Be Small like They Are: then they’ve beaten you

· Confronting them Appropriately about their Smallness: they’ll greet you with shock and utter ignorance

I’ve spoken with Bill about Small Bob countless times, and Bill assures me that he faced the same treatment from Small Bob when he picked up the game and was rising through the ranks. After giving this some thought, I’ve determined that Bill is so self-assured about his level of play that Small Bob’s jabs eventually lost their sting. Pushing buttons that cause no pain seem to cause Smalls to look elsewhere.

Maybe I’ll get better at paddle and work on my self-assuredness. Or play with a worse partner. Or run for the car after I lose the next time.

Not sure what to do. I just hate those Smalls.

About Sean O'Neil

My Dad has Parkinson’s Disease

2011-03-02T14:45:00.000-08:00

There, I said it. I’ve known for several months now – since the day he was diagnosed. And if I’m being honest with myself, I’ve known for a few years. My dad’s father and sister died relatively young from Parkinson’s-related symptoms, so I’ve been alert to the classic signs for years. As the family member nearest to Dad, I was enlisted by Dad to accompany him to a neurology evaluation for a second opinion at a prestigious Ivy League hospital (the one in Connecticut…it rhymes with shale).

My day began with me whining to my wife and kids about the date and timing of this appointment – middle of a busy workweek and my wife’s birthday. Then, as I was pulling up to the hospital garage 5 minutes before the appointment, Dad called to ask whether he should go north or south on I-95 in Bridgeport, which is a solid 20 miles away. He’d be late. I was pissed. (The doctors among you will say that getting lost and being late are symptoms of Parkinson’s, but my old man has been getting lost and running late for all of my 42 years.) I was short with him on the phone and then tapped an annoyed email out to my sibs. What am I doing here? I have work to do. Why did I come?

When he finally arrived, the receptionist told us that the doctor would still see us, and we were asked to complete paperwork. Dad asked me to read him the questions and fill in the answers. I was shocked by the number of symptoms he listed – blurred vision, joint swelling, trouble swallowing. I was floored when the doctor pointed to her armpit and he couldn’t name what it was. This was my father. Wow, he’s sick.

I held Dad’s coat and insurance papers, sat off to the side, and occasionally checked my Blackberry. The doctor – a young, pleasant woman at whom I directed an anxiety-driven jab in our first moments together (for which I later apologized) – artfully brought me into the assessment process. I occasionally clarified a family timeline discrepancy or added my observations about onset of certain symptoms. The process allowed for some memories to emerge that made us alternatively laugh and cry. In the end, the doctor confirmed the Parkinson’s diagnosis, but also offered a rather favorable prognosis. Dad’s symptoms were progressing at an unusually slow rate, so the meds would likely be very successful in stalling the progression further.

Dad and I had lunch in a crappy little diner, and we talked about coaching and business and family and kids and Parkinson’s. We connected in a way we haven’t in a very long time.

Dad will soon be leaving his Connecticut home to live near/with my mother in Florida. They have been apart for almost 12 years (I’m saving that story for another post…or a dime-store novel). I’ve known for at least several months of his Parkinson’s diagnosis, but haven’t done a thing about it…I’ve barely even spoken about it.

Why is it sometimes so hard to spring into action even when you are in complete control of making a beneficial change?

· I’m fat.

· My website sucks.

· I hate my career trajectory.

· My wife and I haven’t spoken meaningfully in months.

· My employees don’t know how much I appreciate them.

· My backhand really sucks.

· I hate my office space.

· I can’t remember the last time I hung out with each of my kids individually.

It wasn’t until today that I accepted the reality of Dad’s health and decided to actively involve myself in his treatment. I’ll now be doing it 1,200 miles from where he’ll be living, even though he’s practically been in my back yard for the past 8 years.

On the bright side, my visit with Dad jolted me to make a list of things I can start changing now.

How to Handle a Mutiny

2011-02-26T19:35:00.000-08:00

Detroit Pistons’ head coach John Kuester recently found himself at the epicenter of the worst of management storms: Mutiny. Seven Pistons players apparently staged a protest against Kuester, purportedly wanting ownership to ouster him, by skipping a required practice. Kuester responded by benching the protesting players in a loss against the 76ers.

There are conflicting reports about what actually led to this whole mess in Detroit, as well as about who is more or less to blame. Regardless, the important question for us is what the hell a manager can do to end a serious controversy and return his team to a state of relative calm, normalcy and productivity?

Here are 3 things a manager facing mutiny must do:

1. Take Stock. Bad storms are violent and disruptive. But managers need to find time in a quiet place to reflect on how they got to this awful point to begin with. And because managers are in the center of it, they are wise to get counsel from a smart, objective, observant, straight-taling sounding board. Could be a colleague, mentor, executive coach or hired consultant. An objective person can help you identify the keys to sorting through all of the noise, and understanding how you got here and where you are now: What factors led to this? When did the problems begin? How did it escalate? Who is involved? Who holds the power? What are the possible outcomes? Which, among those, are the best for you (or least undesirable)?

2. Own Your Own Shit. When asked about his job status amidst the Pistons’ fallout, Detroit’s Keuster said: “One of the things you have to do is feel comfortable about the way you're handling things, and I feel comfortable." I’m often accused of looking too much into things, but Kuester sounds to me like someone who is not owning any responsibility for his team’s mess, and that strikes me as problematic. Every manager facing mutiny contributed to it at least a little bit: maybe he hurt an employee’s feelings, or let the powerful disgruntled employee go unchecked for too long, or reacted too severely when team policies were violated. Managers must answer honestly what they contributed to the trouble or the mutiny will end with the manager walking the plank.

3. Initiate a System Shock. Don’t pretend it’s business as usual. Because your employees are revolting, you are in crisis. Crises require crisis management. You need something strategic and big to let your people know that radical change is coming. Some possibilities, depending on your own situation:

· All-Hands Emergency Meeting/Off-Site: Redefine your team’s mission. Identify new ground rules. Re-establish trust. Blah, blah, blah. Who cares what you do when you're there? You need a profoundly impactful event. One-day events rarely create lasting change, but you need to stop the negative landslide and stabilize the troops. This might be your only chance.

· Cut Off the Monster’s Head: Sometimes, “Taking Stock” will reveal that the power of the opposition lies in the hands of one thug who’s wreaking all the havoc (in Detroit’s case, fingers are pointing at Rip Hamilton). In that case, your best move might be to remove him. Sure, if he’s a compelling leader, you might have others follow him out the door. But you’re just as likely to gain the respect of those who remain, and hopefully you’ll have a more positive powerful force fill the void. If nothing else, you will have ridded your team of the thug’s poison.

Mutinies happen for a variety of reasons: crazy managers who drive employees to revolt, powerful veteran employees who use their influence to organize a walk-out, or a confluence of negative outside events. No matter the reason, mutinies are unnerving for any manager, and often ultimately result in a manager’s departure. Because they are so serious, they need to be dealt with seriously, swiftly and effectively by the manager if he has any chance to survive and bring his team through.

About Sean O'Neil

Rebuilt Knicks: Can Coach D’Antoni Rise to Transition Challenges?

2011-02-22T08:36:00.000-08:00

So the Knicks finally landed Carmelo Anthony, among the NBA’s top players, to become relevant again in the NBA’s Eastern Conference. But the price was steep: the Knicks shipped 4 of their 5 most recent starters – all young, developing talent – to the Nuggets along with numerous future draft picks. As a result, the Knicks are now a completely different team, and Coach Mike D’Antoni bears the pressure to make it work now, for the Knicks have left themselves little chance to rebuild if the Melo move proves unsuccessful.

D’Antoni’s task is similar to that of any coach or manager who’s team makeup has materially and suddenly changed – he needs to facilitate a smooth transition so his new team can quickly get up to speed and achieve success.

This ain’t easy, but here are 3 specific actions Coach D must do now:

1. Allow Mourning among the Remaining Few: The few Knicks not traded are undoubtedly shaken, and D’Antoni must allow them to mourn the loss of friends and come to grips with what the future holds for them. Before the trade, this had become the most exciting Knicks team in years. They rallied around their new star, Amar’e Stoudemire, and together thrived within the pressures of playing in New York. Roles had been defined, and the team’s identity was certain. Now, only uncertainty remains. Where is the team going? How will it affect each player? Do they have to jockey for position all over again? D’Antoni must speak to these questions and more. The X Factor to the Knicks’ success, after all, as with many teams, will lie in the hands of their role players. Coach: Better make sure they’re on solid ground if you want to make things interesting in the East!

2. Meet with Power Brokers: Who’s team is this? Who gets the ball at the end of the game? How will individual statistics be impacted? How will they handle any adversity, particularly in the beginning (remember, the star-studded Miami Heat started this season with a record of 9-8, and faced relentless questions about their ability to come together). Stoudemire is apparently happy to have Melo on board, but Coach D better make sure Amar’e understands the impact on him. Will new point guard Chauncey Billups work the pick and roll as well as Felton? Similarly, Melo will have to get used to sharing the stage, something he hasn’t had much experience doing. Knicks fans have been chanting M-V-P! at Amar’e all season. Will that jive with Melo? Finally, Billups, while in the twilight of his career, is the only roster player with a championship, and commands respect. Not to mention, he publicly stated he wanted to end his career in Denver. Coach: Bring the studs together early and speak to them individually. If they’re not on the same page with you and each other, it could get ugly quickly.

3. Don’t Underestimate Team Time: Not recommending “trust falls” or Kumbaya circles here, but D’Antoni needs to get this team together off the court to allow for informal bonding. Getting to know each other as individuals, not just basketball players, will accelerate gelling. D’Antoni should organize a few loosely-organized team gatherings so players can interact freely outside the media focus of games and practices. Coach: Force social interaction. It’ll be awkward at first, but you don’t have the luxury of time to let chemistry evolve naturally.

Knicks fans – and I count myself among them – are rightfully hyped. We haven’t had this sort of star power on the court in years. But we share the pressure to succeed now, particularly since the Knicks pushed all their chips into the middle of the table by shipping their young talent and future draft picks.

Mike D’Antoni has proved himself a talented manager, showing the guts to make significant midseason adjustments and by tweaking his lineup and shifting player positions. But the pressure is on now – he got what he’s been waiting for since he became the Knicks’ head coach. He’ll have to make his most meaningful midseason adjustments yet!

About Sean O'Neil

Dynamics of Conflict and Resolution

2011-02-17T10:55:00.000-08:00

I coach my 13-year-old sons' basketball team. At practice recently, in preparation for a big game, I got into a battle with my point guard son, Ryan. You know Ryan. You love him. He might even work for you. He's your hard-nosed, never-say-die "coach on the floor" whose grit, stubbornness, and will to succeed - the very qualities that allow you to lean on him so heavily - occasionally cause friction between you that jeopardizes your relationship.

I arrived at practice still tense from work that day, and early on I needled Ryan when he held the ball too long on a fast break. He shot me a glance as if to say, "Ouch, where did that come from?" A moment later, in the exact same situation, he made the exact same mistake, and I barked at him loudly. Ryan rolled his eyes, as if to say, "Really, are you going to ride me like this all practice?"

Then, on the very next possession, the moment he collected the ball in the back court, Ryan purposely flung it far out of reach of his teammate up ahead, as if to say, "There, did I get rid of it soon enough that time, Coach?"

I was shocked and pissed. No kid in any practice I had ever run had been so blatantly disrespectful. I didn’t think. I just reacted by blowing my whistle and said, "Ryan, on the line. You’re going to run." In a fit of rage, Ryan drop-kicked the ball against the far wall and raced out of the gym. The scene was raw and visibly tense. I didn’t have any idea what to do. My assistant (I think of him as my own personal Shooter from the movie Hoosiers) eventually prodded Ryan back into practice, but it wasn't until the end. Ryan never ran his "suicide" for his outburst. Practice ended. Oh shit. Now what?

On the ride home, Ryan, sensing my conundrum, apologized profusely, but I knew (and he probably knew) I needed to do something to respond to his outburst.

The next day, after a sleepless night, I told him that he would sit out the 1^st quarter of our next game. After some tearful pleading, Ryan (and my wife) stopped speaking to me – right up until game time.

During my pre-game talk with the team, I told everyone about Ryan’s punishment. They glanced down at Ryan, who angrily glared at the wall. I told the team that I behaved poorly as well, and that this could safely be characterized as punishment for me. Ryan continued to glare.

Ryan's sullen behavior extended into the pre-game warm-up, and I mentioned to Shooter that if he didn’t pull it together and take on his typical emotional leadership role on this team, I might be forced to sit him beyond the 1^st quarter.

I was struck by how uncertain I felt. What would I say to him? What if his moodiness persisted, and I kept him out of the game? Would this be the first step in a precipitous slide out of the starting lineup and to the end of the bench? Would our relationship off the court remain strained? How does this end or at least get better?

Ever been there with your Ryan? Found yourself backed into one of those awful little corners with one of your favorite people? Worried that one wrong word or shift in the discussion might turn what should have been a minor issue into a bigger, perhaps irreversible one?

Here’s what I did: I had Ryan to come over to the bench while the teams were still warming up, and quietly said:

Listen, I know this sucks – it sucks for me too – and I know you’re pissed. This is almost over, but I need you to conjure up some support and enthusiasm for your team here, especially while you’re sitting out. They’re all watching us closely, and I can’t put it behind us unless we get through this the right way.

Ryan nodded tersely, and re-entered warm-ups. When he thought I wasn’t looking, he clapped hard and shouting encouraging words to his teammates. He continued this positive behavior through a hard-fought 1st quarter. Ultimately, we won the game, and Ryan played great.

Ryan bailed me out and made my decision to put him in to start the 2^nd quarter easy. But what if he hadn’t? Just because I was the “coach” and the “adult” didn’t mean I had all the answers. It certainly didn’t mean that I held all the cards. Ryan had cards to play too, and I wasn’t sure what they were or how he would play them. A poorly-played card here or there could have led to a much worse outcome. There's no coaching manual for situations like that.

Luck had a hand here.

It worked out this time. But maybe next time I won’t be so lucky.

About Sean O'Neil

Sean O’Neil is Principal and CEO of One to One Leadership (www.one2oneleadership.com), a sales and management training firm with clients that include the National Basketball Association, Major League Soccer, News Corporation, First Data, ADP, Xerox, the Oakland Raiders and the New York Knicks. Sean and John Kulisek co-authored Bare Knuckle People Management: Creating Success with the Team You Have – Winners, Losers, Misfits and All, which is due to be published in May 2011. Sean has contributed to or been featured in, among others, The New York Times, the Wall Street Journal, Selling Power Magazine and Incentive Magazine.

CC Sabathia: Flexing his Franchise Muscles to Management

2011-02-15T08:02:00.000-08:00

The NY Yankees' ace, CC Sabathia, certainly turned heads upon his arrival to training camp. Showing up 25 pounds lighter, svelte CC sent a clear message to the Yankees' brass: I am the Franchise of this organization, I got myself in shape to continue my dominance, so extend my contract and pay me more or I'll opt out of my contract and potentially leave.

Yankee-Red Sox commentator, Dom Amore, got it right when he said CC is fully aware of his leverage and would be foolish to give it away. CC has been watching the Yankees' management this off-season - the money they offered Cliff Lee (which is a better deal than CC has), and the way they treated their fading Franchise and soon-to-be Legend, Derek Jeter.

Franchise players on the field and in the workplace give managers fits because they use their leverage to ask for - and often receive - more. Managers bristle at the leverage play and often fail to bend sufficiently to retain the Franchise talent. Clinging to your principles looks pretty foolish when your stud is packing his bags to head to your competition.

Managers need to do the following to keep their Franchise:

Give In: Managers fear that caving to the Franchise would somehow weaken or threaten their authority, or perhaps be deemed unfair treatment by Franchise's peers and ultimately lead to low morale. Sure, possible. But managers who clearly articulate a policy of perks for performance and apply those equally across their team are likely to look like savvy business people and not like wimps. In business, he with the most leverage wins.
Offer Value Not Easily Acquired Elsewhere: Skilled, observant managers highlight value they offer Franchise that other managers would not or could not. In the Yankees' case, they promote pitching on baseball's biggest stage, Yankee Stadium. In the workplace, maybe it's removing Franchise's obstacles so he can perform better, or securing part-time admin help to ease his paperwork burden. Managers would be wise to think creatively and self-promote often.

"Self-promote? To a subordinate?" you ask. You bet. This guy is your meal ticket. Treat him like he is. Managing Franchise players is challenging, but won't you look better if you attract and retain them, instead of sending them running to the competition? Creating an environment that recognizes Franchise value will help you keep your very best producers.

Word to Brian Cashman (or the George's kids, or whoever is making player personnel decisions for the Yanks these days): Take care of Big CC now, or the hat he famously tilts off the side of his head might have a big ugly B on it instead of the much more appealing inter-locking NY.

About Sean O'Neil

Inspiration and Gimmick - Finding the Line

2011-02-14T06:07:00.000-08:00

3 Questions to Determine Whether Your Rally Cry is Inspirational or Gimmicky:

1. Is it personal to your team?

2. Is it unique and meaningful (or is it another in a long list of contrived attempts to motivate)?

3. Does your team embrace it and add to it so it evolves organically (or is it solely your creation)?

This morning at the gym, I saw a moving piece this morning on Sports Center about a Tennessee high school football team that found inspiration in a teammate, Dylan, who was diagnosed with cancer and extended his battle right up to the day the team won the state championship.

Much to the chagrin of my elliptical machine mates, I found myself blubbering like a baby. ("Uh, Sean, are you crying?" "No, my eyes are sweating.") I really lost it when they showed Dylan's best friend and teammate giving his impassioned speech before the championship game, in which he implored his team to selflessly fight like Dylan fought for his life and in his last hours asked about his team. Needless to say, the team charged out of the locker room and thoroughly romped their opponent to claim the team's first state championship in 58 years.

Dylan's courageous battle was truly inspirational to his team - they cared for their friend, they knew he wanted them to win, and they rallied behind him. It appears, at least, that Dylan's battle motivated the team to perform beyond expectations.

Coaches (and managers) constantly and ineffectively try to manufacture this type of inspiration to motivate their teams, and instead of inspiring, it gets dismissed as gimmick. Every college team these days seem to have a black band or teammate's number or the water boy's uncle's initials patched onto their uniform, purportedly in the interest of motivating the team.

There's nothing wrong with seizing upon a life circumstance is personal, meaningful and embraced fully by a team to help it outperform. But events like Dylan's are (thankfully) rare. As a coach or manager, when you go to that well too often or frivolously, the message rings hollow, and often distracts you and your team from rolling up your collective sleeves and doing the real, hard, day-to-day work that makes you better.

About Sean O'Neil

Brand You: Little Ways to Distinguish Yourself from the Herd

2011-02-12T09:33:00.000-08:00

Thought the attorneys among you might enjoy this article in LawCrossing: Brand You: Little Ways to Distinguish Themselves from the Herd

About Sean O'Neil

Phil Jackson: Passive-Aggressor, Shameless Self-Promoter

2011-02-11T06:34:00.000-08:00

Flipping through the NY Times this morning, I saw an article about Utah Jazz head coach Jerry Sloan's sudden and unexpected resignation, purportedly over ongoing conflict with guard Deron Williams. Thinking there was a bare knuckle management message in there somwhere, I read on.

But I couldn't get past the following quote from Lakers head coach, Phil Jackson, when he was asked to comment about Sloan's retirement:

"You hate to see a guy go out without having won a championship after all the great teams he’s had."

Phil, that's just awful. It's obvious you despise and/or disrespect Sloan, and we've always known about your penchant for self-promotion. So why not plainly say what you meant to communicate?:

"Wow, I can't believe Jerry never won a title despite having Hall of Famers John Stockton and Karl Malone all those years. Everyone says the only reason I won my 11 titles is because I was blessed with the best players in NBA history. Everyone always holds this guy up as a smart, hard-working, innovative NBA coach, and he hasn't won s#!t! I guess it's not that easy coaching elite players, is it Jerry?...Is it?!"

Don't want to reveal all the bad stuff you're thinking? Then an emotionally-neutral - even bland - response such as this would have sufficed: "Jerry has been a fiercely competitive and successful coach in the league for a very long time. He will me missed."

Open conflict isn't for everyone - I get it. I rarely recommend that conflict-avoidant people bluntly state their concerns if they're worried about the backlash. Look, direct conflict is hard for some people to handle, and I can appreciate their wish to steer clear.

But I always call out the passive-aggressors who lob destructive verbal missiles in the form of nicely-wrapped messages. These missiles are designed to simultaneously prop up the speaker and tear down another. If you're going to stick it to someone, you might as well take off the pretty little wrappings and say what you've got to say. If you don't want to deliver the harsh message, then keep it neutral and unemotional. Trust me, Phil, you'll come off better.

About Sean O'Neil

3 Reasons Perma-Smiles Might be Killing Your Team

2011-02-10T06:06:00.000-08:00

On the surface, there’s nothing not to love about smiles. I smile when

· I’m happy, and when

· I like someone, and when

· I want to communicate that I’m genuinely pleased.

But smiles can be deceiving. I also smile when

· I’m pissed off but don’t feel at liberty to say so, and when

· I don’t want to let others know the pain I’m in, and when

· I have already hatched a plan to get you back for all the pain you’ve caused me and I can’t conceal how excited I am to see it fully executed.

I get leery when I’m with a new client in which every employee has a smile plastered across the front of his face (perma smile) – when everyone I speak with begins our discussion with: “oh my God, what a wonderful company we have, it’s just perfect, and there’s never any conflict and everyone is just so darn nice, and it’s kind of like I always imagined living in the Midwest would be.” Are they hiding something? Are they afraid I’ll spill the beans? Were they forced to drink the company Kool-Aid? It gives me the creeps.

I don’t doubt that certain environments are more people-friendly than others, and I’m certainly not advocating the creation of openly hostile work settings. It’s just that managers often interpret their employees’ perma smiles as signs that everything is rosy, when in fact they might be masking some very serious issues.

If your people look so damn clown happy all the time, there just might be reasons to investigate to make sure their smiles are real and not made of plaster. Here are three:

1. People are Afraid to Tell You What’s Wrong.

I was involved in a productive team-building session at a historically difficult client recently when I jokingly cautioned some employees that “big brother” might be watching. Just before my comment, the employees’ guard had lowered enough for them to finally be making concrete steps toward real (and tough) organizational improvement. With one stupid comment, I unintentionally re-stoked their fears that the company’s notorious “big brother” – they all called him “Junior” – might actually be lurking around the corner waiting to pinkslip anyone who was complaining. My clients’ perma smiles instantly returned and the team-building session regressed to the surfacy, unproductive discussions that I had grown weary of. Ruling by fear can cause inhibition-driven perma smiles that stifle innovation and productivity.

2. People are Too Proud and Insecure to Discuss Their Pain.

Don’t you want to know if your people are struggling? If they hate their job? If they feel as if they were overlooked for a promotion? If they can’t stand the person they’re forced to sit next to every single day? Sure, there’s some strange American pride about those who get up every day and get right back on the hamster wheel with perma smiles affixed, even though it’s slowly killing them. They “grin and bear it” as the saying goes. But if you took the time to ask, perhaps you’d uncover a thing or two you could do to make the hamster wheel a bit more tolerable. Squashing opportunity for employees to appropriately air concerns is inviting true workplace unhappiness, which will in turn, squash performance.

3. People are Secretly Plotting Attacks Against You or Their Peers.

I observed a meeting recently in which two so-called “best friends” assaulted each other through passive-aggressive barbs aimed to lift themselves up and tear the other down. Their rigid smiles affixed as shields across their faces, they traded punches like Frazier and Ali. My favorite:

Psycho 1: “Oh sweetie, I just love when you where those long thin vertical stripes. They make you look thin!”

Psycho 2: “Um, but I’m wearing wide, horizontal stripes.”

Psycho 1: “Yes, I know.”

They left the meeting arm-in-arm, and if I’m being honest, I swear I saw them each trying to twist the other’s arm from her body. Allowing passive-aggressive behavior to go unchecked can cause irreparable harm to your team dynamics, which will irreparably harm performance.

About Sean O'Neil

Football is Complicated…So is Managing People

2011-02-07T10:58:00.001-08:00

After the Packers’ victory over the Steelers in Super Bowl XLV, Fox’s Chris Myers interviewed Steelers’ head coach, Mike Tomlin. Those postgame interviews of the losing coach outside the locker room are often brutal, but Tomlin – if you read this blog, you know I’m a fan of his coaching style – made a noteworthy comment about broadcasters’ annoying tendency to oversimplify their postgame analysis.

When Myers asked Tomlin, “Was it about the turnovers that dug the hole? Would you size it up that simply?” Tomlin replied, It drives me bonkers when I hear a commentator or coach boil down a thrilling game to one play or one statistic that they deem singularly responsible for the game’s outcome. At the end of a basketball game decided by a single point, ESPN’s Digger Phelps will say something dumb like, “It all came down to missed free throws.” Really Digger? What about that possession in the first half in which the losing team missed three wide open jump shots? Or that awful offensive charge call early on that negated what appeared to be a three-point play? Tomlin’s response was refreshing for its thoughtful appreciation for the complexity of games and life events.

“If you're trying to wrap a bow around it in 10 words or less, sure. But there are a lot of areas that could have swung the balance the other way. We look at every single play in all three phases when we evaluate our performances."

Like Chris Myers and Digger Phelps, so-called leadership gurus notoriously attempt to reduce great management to one simple key - “Embrace Your People” or “Have a Plan and See it Through” or “Communicate Effectively” or “Let Them Know How Much You Appreciate Them.” Really? No, seriously…really?! Is that all there is to great management? If so, why are there so many crappy managers?

You need a simple key to great management to wrap a bow around in 10 words or less just because it makes you feel better? Here’s mine: “Don’t Oversimplify!” Appreciate that there are a lot of factors that could swing the balance of your team’s performance one way or another. And then get granular to look at every facet of your team, and break down the numerous factors that aid in and detract from team performance.

I can appreciate why TV analysts and viewers like their “keys to the game”– they make for neat packaging and succinct sound bites. But they’re not useful to those who actually need to coach or manage the team back in the trenches. In fact, they can direct attention away from other more critical flaws in a team’s performance that should be the coach’s/manager’s focus.

About Sean O'Neil

Kid Hoops Coaching: 3 Lessons that Apply to Your Team

2011-02-02T07:12:00.000-08:00

I have 13-year-old twin sons, and I’ve been coaching their CYO basketball team for the past several years. In the process, I found that nothing provides a better laboratory for management training than coaching newly pubescent boys squeezed into tiny church gyms with their parents waiting to pounce at even the slightest misstep.

Along my often bumpy coaching road, I’ve stumbled upon some useful management lessons that likely apply to you and your team:

1. Tell them What You Plan to Do…and Do it. At first I thought it worked just because they were kids, but then I realized their parents needed it too. People like to know what your “philosophy” is, where you plan to take the team, and how you plan to take them there. It comforts them to know that you’re not walking in the dark. Each season I’ve laid out 3 “themes” (this year’s: play like you belong, play as a team, play without fear), which has helped orient us and keep us on track. When I debrief games, I often bucket my comments in terms of these themes to give my feedback context.

2. Teach Them How to Operate on Their Own. Coaches love their set plays – nifty little gadgets that can convey the appearance of a well-coached team. The problem is that set plays break down for a variety of factors – the defense doesn’t behave like you anticipated, the ball bounces the wrong way, etc. Like work, basketball is more complicated in real life than whatever you can draw up on a white board. If your kids only know how to operate in the context of a well-scripted play, they’ll flounder when s#!t happens. Try instituting a loose structure and letting your team figure it out for themselves. You’ll see where you’ll need to add structure and provide more attention, and in the process your team will learn to operate independently, which will free you up to tend to other critical items.

3. Be Yourself (unless you’re Bobby Knight). Any one of my team parents will tell you (and they would be right) that in the beginning of my coaching career I made a habit of pacing the sidelines, working the refs, imploring my team, and scowling like Mike D’Antoni when things went awry. But over time I learned that these things weren’t “me” and often resulted in poorer team performance. At one point during our second season, I had the kids complete a survey about their experience on the team. One theme came through loud and clear…they liked it better when I didn’t yell so much. Yikes! I enlisted them to help me correct the problem by letting me know when I was behaving badly. And they did, routinely and with vigor. I admittedly still catch myself squatting low and pounding the floor like Rick Pitino, but I usually catch myself, stand upright, and become myself again…much to my kids’ delight.

About Sean O'Neil

Dwight Schrute Proclaims There’s No Such Thing as a “Sales Team” – Is He Right?

2011-01-28T14:02:00.000-08:00

During the latest episode of The Office on NBC, Dwight Schrute expressed a sentiment shared – but, thankfully, rarely spoken – by sales reps everywhere. In response to Andy’s whining that salespeople are supposed to help each other out and be a team, Dwight proclaimed, “We're no more a team than the people staying in the same hotel are a team."

Well, that’s certainly a brutal, cynical assessment of a sales team’s dynamics.

But let’s face it: If a sales rep’s compensation and performance review are based solely on his individual sales performance, then how invested is he in helping out his fellow “teammates?” Sure, the sales manager’s success depends on the entire team’s performance – so the manager wants them to cooperate to the extent such cooperation results in better overall performance – but that doesn’t make a stitch of difference to each individual rep.

Want your reps to behave like team members and not just cohabitants in a hotel? Here are 4 suggestions that might help:

1. Comp them on team performance. Not all managers have the authority to adjust compensation plans, but those who do could create a more cooperative team environment by adding a team performance metric to their reps’ compensation plans.

Special Considerations:

· You’ll have to give considerable thought to how this compensation might be structured: What percentage of compensation is attributed to team success? What metric will you target – total team revenue? performance against plan? minimum performance among all reps? Will there be any subjective or anecdotal data that will factor in? If so, might this cause resentment and accusations of favoritism?

· Also, you’ll need to keep in mind that such comp plan alterations might have some undesirable, unintended consequences. For example, your very best performers might bristle at the thought of having even a small part of their compensation dependent on the performance of other reps. Your effort to create a cohesive sales team might result in your super stud walking out the door.

2. Get them together often and outside of work. A much less costly method of driving sales team cohesion is to foster an environment in which your reps can get to know and like each other informally. Provided your team is not comprised of social spazzes, you can probably let social inertia take care of itself. (If the social spaz factor is high, you might need to more assertively stir the pot to initiate mingling. And if that’s the case, then you might have even bigger issues than lack of cooperation, as socially spazzy salespeople aren’t often great at making sales.)

Your teammates’ familiarity with each other will invariably lead to genuine concern among the members of the team, and a greater willingness to help each other out. You can repeatedly fuel the pump by reinforcing cooperative behavior by publicly and privately praising those who engage in such behavior meaningfully.

Special Considerations:

· Sure, it’s easier to implement than overhauling your comp plan, but it might not work. Let’s face it – time outside of work is a precious commodity, and not all people, particularly hard-working and/or familied ones want to mix it up with colleagues during their free time.

· How are you going to characterize these socials when you organize them? Are they optional or mandatory? Do you risk pissing off your studs by making them partake in these events – if so, is team cohesion worth it? Are you treating for them during these gatherings, or will the reps have to pay their own way?

3. Create Team Interdependence through Expertise. There’s nothing that spurs cooperation more than true team interdependence. Sales Rep A will certainly get the help he needs from Sales Rep B if Rep B knows that he’ll eventually need help from Rep A. Managers can create interdependence by requiring subject-matter expertise in each rep. Requiring reps to take classes or present at conferences or become fluent in a certain vertical can all build expertise that other reps might leverage as they require that expertise to close certain sales.

Special Considerations:

· Are the areas of expertise deemed equally important by the sales reps? If not, then those with the perceived “high value” areas of expertise might be more inclined to figure things out “low value” areas of expertise for themselves rather than reach out to another team member for help.

· Can reps easily acquire expertise in one or more area relatively easily on their own? If so, some of your more ambitious reps might acquire this expertise and therefore reduce their dependence on their fellow reps.

4. Challenge a Rival Team within the Company. Even if the only thing at stake is lunch and bragging rights, you can marshall the competitive spirit that hopefully exists on your team by challenging your arch rival sales manager to a team battle.

Special Considerations:

· How can you set the contest up to encourage cooperation? Simply competing on total productivity might drive your high performers to simply sell more on their own and become even less cooperative. One way might be to require everyone on the winning team to submit a certain minimum amount of business, or insist that deals need to come from a variety of territories in order for a team to claim victory.

· Losing always sucks, so are you prepared to pick up the pieces if the team feels down in the (unlikely, of course) event of defeat?

I’m sure there are skeptics among you who are thinking (admirably, I might add) that failing to cooperate with one’s peers is a completely unprofessional way to behave and that they would have no place as sales reps in a team or company such as yours. You’re wondering if “normal” sales environments (Dunder Mifflin, of course, is as fictional as it is dysfunctional) need such interventions at all.

Ok…fair enough. But how do you monitor and discourage non-cooperative behavior? It’s easy when their rudeness in Dwight-like and in-your-face. But what about keeping in check passively uncooperative behavior? - The rep doesn’t return phone calls to a peer in need until long after the need has passed (“hey, I was busy…sorry!”). Or one rep withholds a valuable piece of market data that might have sealed a deal for a fellow rep (“look, who knew you’d actually need that in your territory?!”).

Look, Dwight Schrute is clearly crazy, but he isn’t dumb – he says what perhaps others are thinking. Creating a sense of team in most sales environments is extremely challenging – and often not worth the effort to achieve it! But if you firmly believe that cooperative behavior will enhance your team’s overall effectiveness (and therefore improve your performance), then give one of the suggestions above a try.

About Sean O'Neil

Mike Tomlin – True to Himself

2011-01-26T05:43:00.000-08:00

I saw an interesting interview by Shannon Sharpe of Mike Tomlin that aired on CBS this past Sunday just before the Steelers took down my beloved Jets. (The fact that I could no longer find a working link to the video this morning suggests that maybe I’m the only person who found it interesting.)

In the interview, Sharpe asked Tomlin to describe coaches who were influential in making him the coach he is today. Tomlin said that he was an assistant for two radically different, but similarly successful coaches in Tony Dungy and John Gruden. Dungy was introspective, deeply religious and emotionally reserved. Gruden, on the other hand, was emotional, impulsive, and coached by the seat of his pants.

And yet, despite their differences, Tomlin recognized that they both succeeded in leading teams to championships. Tomlin acknowledged to Sharpe that this gave him confidence to pick and choose among Dungy’s and Gruden’s traits that were consistent with Tomlin’s coaching style. In other words, Tomlin didn’t feel compelled to internalize coaching traits that he deemed effective for Gruden or Dungy – he knew he could be himself and still find success.

In my management training workshops, I often ask participants to describe characteristics and behaviors of “walk-through-wall” leaders (that is, a leader for whom the participant would have walked through a wall if the leader had asked them to) they’ve worked for/played for in their past. As you can imagine, these characteristics run the gamut – honest, approachable, humorous, sensitive, inspiring, detail-oriented, loyal, well-connected, experienced, calm in the face of a storm, etc. The point of this exercise is not for participants to take stock of all of their shortcomings, but rather for them to see that leaders come in literally all varieties. No one could possibly possess all of the traits listed – several are invariably mutually exclusive!

Tomlin is a great head coach because he spent considerable time observing and assisting excellent head coaches – among them, Dungy and Gruden – from whom he hand-picked coaching behaviors that he wanted made part of his leadership persona. But Tomlin’s greatest achievement is his recognition that no matter which of his mentors’ behaviors he adopted, they needed to be consistent with his own management/coaching style.

And whichever behaviors he adopted seem to be working. Just ask my beloved Jets.

About Sean O'Neil

The Movement - How Did We Get Here? How Do We Leave?

2011-01-25T08:42:00.000-08:00

Been to leadership training recently? Get the sense your leadership trainers just didn't get "it" or you?

You know for a fact that they never walked a step in your moccasins, so how is it that they were in the front of the room insisting you do your job the way they tell you to do it?

What were the trust falls all about? What about the new age music during breaks?

Why did their proposed "communication models" feel stale and inapplicable to your day-to-day job? Do they really expect you to say those things to your people? If they knew you or your people, they would know that you would never - could never - say such words.

Sure, you're all for recognizing and rewarding good behavior, but what do you do with the knuckleheads on your team who don't really add a stitch of value?

Isn't there something out there that's more meaningful, practical and applicable to you and your team?

Look, I design and deliver leadership and management training (http://www.one2oneleadership.com/), so I don't want it to go away entirely as an industry. I just want to readjust the focus. I want to set aside the word "leadership" in leadership training, because it seems to be getting in the way.

Leadership training has become a predictably fluffy and theoretical exercise that seems to be more focused on a moment-in-time "inspiration" for the participants (which then, presumably, is expected to be passed on to their direct reports after the training) rather than a learning exercise that provides participants with concrete tools that they can apply to their specific team in their specific company. There's nothing inherently wrong with inspiration - it's just that the impact is fleeting, and almost never leads to lasting, tangible results.

I want to participate in a movement away from leadership training and towards management training. Let's concretize the training experience. Let's not make it only about inspiration and group hugs and celebrations of success. Let's make it more applicable to the specific participants and their specific employees in their specific work environments. Let's allow for the fact that your team might have some losers on it...those who just won't cut it. Let's acknowledge that there is a wide range of personality and talent on your team, and that you need to tailor your style to each team member to maximize the productivity each can deliver.

I don't want to end the dialogue about leadership and management - I just want to shift it so the managers who are the intended recipients can actually put it to use.

About Sean O'Neil