Teamwork QB

Having coached for 31 seasons, I’ve come to see that high school football teams typically fall into one of two categories. First, there are the teams led by coaches and fueled by players who have been taught to pursue and play the game the right way. These teams are built on a foundation of mutual love and respect, with a pure passion for the game. They play with relentless effort, genuine sportsmanship, and respect for their opponents. Knocking them down and then picking them back up. Then, there are the teams driven by individual egos, caught up in a “win at any cost” mentality. These teams often boast a high level of athleticism, but they lack self-control, sportsmanship, and a respect for how the game should truly be played. If you’re paying attention, you can usually tell within the first few minutes of a game which philosophy a team is following. My college football coach described it as the “Blue car vs. Red car” model of competition. Both cars are built to race. Both cars will win some races. But the Blue car is built on a foundation of love and respect, while the Red car is fueled by fear and ego. Yes, the Red car is fast, flashy, and often wins—but it eventually runs out of gas and usually crashes and burns. The Red car team rides the highs of victory but falls apart in defeat. The Blue car, on the other hand, is built to last. It’s driven by winners, men of character with a rare competitive edge that only a few people truly understand and choose. Blue car teams compete with a high level of excellence, regardless of the score. Whether they’re up by 40 or down by 40, they play against their best selves. For them, that’s the real game—played in their mind, their heart, and within their team. The Blue car team laughs in the face of all the noise from the outer circle (fans, refs, media, and the opposing Red car) because they know exactly how and why they were built. The Blue car competitor knows their purpose, what fuels them. The Blue car is the model I was taught to “drive” over 30 years ago by a legend, my hero, my Yoda, my coach, Frosty Westering. It’s the model I’ve tried to build at King’s High School ever since. Has it always gone perfectly? No. Sometimes my own Red car has shown up. But we’ve done our best to build champions—young men who grow to become great fathers, husbands, leaders, and men who pursue what is right, honorable, and just. To my Red car coaches and friends out there: it’s never too late to hang up those keys and trade in your car for a Blue one. Your athletes, team, and school community deserve better. To my Blue car team here at @KingsHSFootball and other Blue car coaches…stay on mission. You’ve got this! Your school community is proud of you.