Every Lesson Counts
Charlie Waters - Email
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
January 13, 2007 11:06 PM Change Font Size A A A A
IRVING, Texas - Gene Stallings was/is a man's man. As a coach he was tough, disciplined, smart, practical, organized, and flexible . . . yes, flexible. It's hard for anyone who knew Gene Stallings when he was coaching at Texas A&M to think of him as flexible.
He adjusted his coaching philosophy because of Coach Landry's influence. I'm convinced of it. It showed a great sign of maturity and took him another step toward being a complete coach.
I was lucky to have Gene Stallings as my position coach for all of my years but one. He was patient with all of us and tolerant - most of the time. Because we thought so highly of him, we all helped him secure a head-coaching job.
That finally happened when he was named the head coach of the St. Louis Cardinals. His head-coaching legacy, though, is tied to a NCAA National Championship he won while the he was head coach at the University of Alabama - a dream come true for Gene. He played there under the tutelage of Bear Bryant.
It's been well documented that it was a bit of a "test" for me to play corner. I was drafted and trained to play safety, but when Coach Landry needed a corner, he asked me. Gene Stallings had to defend my play and I appreciated his support.
All those years Gene Stallings was my mentor. He loved to pontificate. When ready to drop a bit of wisdom on us, he'd preface his treasure with, "Now . . . are you listening?" When we convinced him that in fact we were, he'd proceed with many pearls only someone with his knowledge and experience could convey. He loved to coach us. We were like sponges, taking it all in.
One such time comes to mind:
I was a third-year player for the Cowboys and some genius decided to put me out at the corner position to replace Herb Adderly. I was a QB/WR in college and had spent my first two years with the Cowboys at the safety position, but now I would be a corner.
No problem, right? I've got a great coach. A coach who knows the game and the techniques and, best of all, he can communicate them. He understands our defensive schemes - all the critical components of each coverage at all four of the defensive back positions, plus how and where our help was coming from in the form of a linebacker in every imaginable situation.
On top of all that and various minute details of our famed "flex" defense, Gene Stallings also knew the opponents and how they attacked, with detailed scouting reports on all of the wide receivers. He was a secret weapon in my corner - please excuse the pun.
My first day on the job at corner, I got my first taste of cornerback wisdom from our experienced, cerebral coach. As I broke the huddle and trotted out to my position, Gene intercepted me.
"Ah, here comes that 'pearl' I was looking for." I thought, "Surely Gene is going to stun me with his expertise as a coach and drop something on me to be remembered for decades. Something that will put me into a comfort zone."
First was, "Are you listening?" I nodded. Then, "Now, Charles, this is just a little thing . . . but when you break the huddle and move to your position, don't ever turn your back on the line of scrimmage."
What? . . .
That's it? . . .
Of course, Gene Stallings had many, many more coaching points for me throughout my 12-year career, but none as funny (strange) as that jewel.
Coaches like to coach. They want and need to fulfill their responsibility to the player and the club, to get the player to approach, and sometimes, meet their potential.
A lot of coaches use fear to drive the player to perform. Some use embarrassment, some with compliments, and others use just a cold stare.
The 2006 Cowboys, with four games left, "were feeling it". The players and the coaches knew something special was brewing around Valley Ranch.
Coach Parcells made it as clear as possible that it was time. Time to separate from the pack. He attempted to stress to all this was a "special" year and years like this don't come around too often. He got close to pleading to the players to not blow it.
There was a great opportunity laid out in front of them to take a shot at reaching the summit.
To get the team to perform at the level needed to reach that summit, playoff experience is crucial, as is Super Bowl experience.
Many formulas have been applied and implemented by coaches striving to get the players to the "next" level of play. That level is one that demands to have the player strive and get close to the perfect game.
How to guarantee that effort is the mystery. Approaching each game in the playoffs, the coach stresses preparation until he is blue in the face. Leave nothing to chance.
There is no tomorrow that you can fall back on or rationalize an inadequate performance.
Only two years over my 12-year career, I felt truly comfortable with myself at the end of a season. At ease. Satisfied. We won the Championship two times. The other 10 years left work to be done.
A sense of being incomplete haunts you. If you are driven and goal-oriented, it is hard to accept anything other than perfection. We all know there is no such thing (perfection), but striving for it is what the coach and conscientious player yearns and reaches for.
How many times did it take your Dad to tell you not put your hand in the fire, before you actually believed him? It took you sticking your hand in there and feeling the consequences for your actions to really understand. Rather than listening to your Dad (Coach), you got burned.
The playoffs warrant the coach to pound it over and over to the players to "not put their hand in the fire". Though, for them to really believe it, they have to experience it. Experience the disappointment. Experience the uncomfortable position of not preparing quite enough.
Coaches punish themselves unmercifully by thinking they could've done more to get the players prepared.
Sticking your hand in the fire is a simple, little analogy. But sometimes little coaching points speak volumes.
DallasCowboys.com Columnist
January 13, 2007 11:06 PM Change Font Size A A A A
IRVING, Texas - Gene Stallings was/is a man's man. As a coach he was tough, disciplined, smart, practical, organized, and flexible . . . yes, flexible. It's hard for anyone who knew Gene Stallings when he was coaching at Texas A&M to think of him as flexible.
He adjusted his coaching philosophy because of Coach Landry's influence. I'm convinced of it. It showed a great sign of maturity and took him another step toward being a complete coach.
I was lucky to have Gene Stallings as my position coach for all of my years but one. He was patient with all of us and tolerant - most of the time. Because we thought so highly of him, we all helped him secure a head-coaching job.
That finally happened when he was named the head coach of the St. Louis Cardinals. His head-coaching legacy, though, is tied to a NCAA National Championship he won while the he was head coach at the University of Alabama - a dream come true for Gene. He played there under the tutelage of Bear Bryant.
It's been well documented that it was a bit of a "test" for me to play corner. I was drafted and trained to play safety, but when Coach Landry needed a corner, he asked me. Gene Stallings had to defend my play and I appreciated his support.
All those years Gene Stallings was my mentor. He loved to pontificate. When ready to drop a bit of wisdom on us, he'd preface his treasure with, "Now . . . are you listening?" When we convinced him that in fact we were, he'd proceed with many pearls only someone with his knowledge and experience could convey. He loved to coach us. We were like sponges, taking it all in.
One such time comes to mind:
I was a third-year player for the Cowboys and some genius decided to put me out at the corner position to replace Herb Adderly. I was a QB/WR in college and had spent my first two years with the Cowboys at the safety position, but now I would be a corner.
No problem, right? I've got a great coach. A coach who knows the game and the techniques and, best of all, he can communicate them. He understands our defensive schemes - all the critical components of each coverage at all four of the defensive back positions, plus how and where our help was coming from in the form of a linebacker in every imaginable situation.
On top of all that and various minute details of our famed "flex" defense, Gene Stallings also knew the opponents and how they attacked, with detailed scouting reports on all of the wide receivers. He was a secret weapon in my corner - please excuse the pun.
My first day on the job at corner, I got my first taste of cornerback wisdom from our experienced, cerebral coach. As I broke the huddle and trotted out to my position, Gene intercepted me.
"Ah, here comes that 'pearl' I was looking for." I thought, "Surely Gene is going to stun me with his expertise as a coach and drop something on me to be remembered for decades. Something that will put me into a comfort zone."
First was, "Are you listening?" I nodded. Then, "Now, Charles, this is just a little thing . . . but when you break the huddle and move to your position, don't ever turn your back on the line of scrimmage."
What? . . .
That's it? . . .
Of course, Gene Stallings had many, many more coaching points for me throughout my 12-year career, but none as funny (strange) as that jewel.
Coaches like to coach. They want and need to fulfill their responsibility to the player and the club, to get the player to approach, and sometimes, meet their potential.
A lot of coaches use fear to drive the player to perform. Some use embarrassment, some with compliments, and others use just a cold stare.
The 2006 Cowboys, with four games left, "were feeling it". The players and the coaches knew something special was brewing around Valley Ranch.
Coach Parcells made it as clear as possible that it was time. Time to separate from the pack. He attempted to stress to all this was a "special" year and years like this don't come around too often. He got close to pleading to the players to not blow it.
There was a great opportunity laid out in front of them to take a shot at reaching the summit.
To get the team to perform at the level needed to reach that summit, playoff experience is crucial, as is Super Bowl experience.
Many formulas have been applied and implemented by coaches striving to get the players to the "next" level of play. That level is one that demands to have the player strive and get close to the perfect game.
How to guarantee that effort is the mystery. Approaching each game in the playoffs, the coach stresses preparation until he is blue in the face. Leave nothing to chance.
There is no tomorrow that you can fall back on or rationalize an inadequate performance.
Only two years over my 12-year career, I felt truly comfortable with myself at the end of a season. At ease. Satisfied. We won the Championship two times. The other 10 years left work to be done.
A sense of being incomplete haunts you. If you are driven and goal-oriented, it is hard to accept anything other than perfection. We all know there is no such thing (perfection), but striving for it is what the coach and conscientious player yearns and reaches for.
How many times did it take your Dad to tell you not put your hand in the fire, before you actually believed him? It took you sticking your hand in there and feeling the consequences for your actions to really understand. Rather than listening to your Dad (Coach), you got burned.
The playoffs warrant the coach to pound it over and over to the players to "not put their hand in the fire". Though, for them to really believe it, they have to experience it. Experience the disappointment. Experience the uncomfortable position of not preparing quite enough.
Coaches punish themselves unmercifully by thinking they could've done more to get the players prepared.
Sticking your hand in the fire is a simple, little analogy. But sometimes little coaching points speak volumes.
posted by The Gryphon at 10:22 AM
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