Martin Rooney - Coach to Coach

Every day was starting to seem like wash, rinse, and repeat. And not on a good cycle.

Getting up early for so many years had become natural to Brian, but that didn't mean it was easy. In fact, the morning knot he had in his stomach was getting tighter and putting his feet on the floor at 4 a.m. was getting tougher. More and more days started with him wishing he could just stay in bed.

Brian's two girls were also getting older and beginning to notice when he wasn't around. By the time he got home at night, they were either asleep or he was too wiped out or stressed out to do much with them. Sure, like most dads, he made it to the occasional lunch at home or school recital, but his conscience told him it wasn't enough. And when his oldest offered him some play money to buy an hour of his time the other day to stay home a little longer with her, it really hurt.

Things with his wife, Kelly, weren't good, either. She had always been on board with his dream of big-time college coaching, but the two different moves and his ever-increasing hours were taking their toll. With Kelly caring for the girls and also working as a graphic designer, conversations usually focused on their busy schedules. She had become distant and often appeared both frustrated and less interested in his dream. The most obvious proof of this disengagement was that it had been over a full season since she had attended a game to support him. “For better or for worse” seemed to Brian to be just things people unconsciously agreed to during their wedding vows. And when “the worse” started happening, it seemed like Kelly didn't remember that part of her vows at all.

Brian still loved football. Sports had always been the driver of his life. After his athletic career as a college linebacker ended, he naturally made the transition to coaching. Now almost a decade into this career path, however, he felt unprepared. And this lack of confidence became a vicious cycle of negativity and a lack of effort. He knew deep down if he kept this act up, his job wouldn't be safe for long.

On the field was where Brian always excelled. When he made the transition from athlete to coaching at his alma mater, he was familiar with the athletes he had played with and had their respect as a former star player and a teammate. This allowed him to work on the players' weaknesses and improve the defense. This led to some recognition and his and Kelly's first move up the ladder to a bigger program.

Success can often breed success, even if the success isn't yours. During his second coaching stint, Brian's team eventually won the conference championship and narrowly missed a national title. Although he didn't have the same impact on the players, the athletes on this team competed at a much higher level. Their success and a couple of first-round draft picks later, Brian appeared to be a premier coach who forged athletes at the highest level. This made him more marketable and in demand.

It was the second move and his current situation where things started to unravel. Or you could say that the truth about Brian's true coaching ability came out. Brian joined the staff of a high profile and nationally known head coach charged with rebuilding a former top program. It was going to be a tough task. The athletes wouldn't be the same caliber as those he'd coached in the past, but Brian was up for the challenge (and the increased pay and prestige, too).

The problems started for Brian when the athletes he coached didn't seem to be on board with his plan. Now ten years removed as a player (and two kids and a number of pounds heavier), Brian lacked both the command of respect and the ability to connect with the current players under his watch. The same thing was happening at home with his family, too. Of course, being a defensive-minded person, he rationalized his lack of appreciation from the team and at home as “their loss.” The trouble was, according to the head coach and Kelly, if Brian didn't fix the problem and turn this season around, the loss could be his.

After a game, it is usual for the team to practice the next day. Since the season is short and condensed, athletes and coaches have to maximize the time to get physically and technically ready for the next week.

After a losing game, however, morale is usually low and aggressions can run high. Practice can often seem like a softer word for punishment. On that Sunday morning after the game, Brian would find out he wasn't the only one who was in a defensive mood.

Marcus Chase was the most talented player on the defense. A top recruit out of high school from Florida, some people questioned his decision to go to a program that was rebuilding. Now in his third year with the school, even he might agree it had been the wrong choice. Not only had the team not cracked into the Top 25, but his play had been highly criticized. Just like Brian, no one likes to admit when they aren't living up to their potential.

Marcus also hadn't recovered from the fallout of the game last night. Rarely do defensive players make highlight reels on ESPN. That is, unless they end up making an offensive player look really good. During the fourth quarter, on a big third-down play, Marcus was hurdled by a receiver as he attempted to make a tackle. Not only did this acrobatic play lead to Marcus making his first Sports Center highlight, it also led to the touchdown that sealed his team's loss.

Marcus was a bit of a lone wolf on the team. His teammates also knew his football pedigree and got the feeling from Marcus that he thought he was better than they were. Marcus always put in the work and did as he was instructed, but his quiet demeanor didn't position him as a leader. Being a talented player can be a lonely place. Especially when you aren't playing up to that talent. And on this Sunday workout, his teammates and coach weren't going to miss an opportunity to let him know about it.

Sunday was going to be a “Run Day.” Although it is said working out the day after a game can promote healing, Brian had a little pain in mind for his players. After warmups and some compulsory technical work, Brian was unhappy as usual with the effort of his players. Frustrated and still upset from the loss, Brian told the linebacking crew the last thing they wanted to hear: “Since you guys have been ‘half-assers,’ I think it's time for some ‘half-gassers.’”

The groans from the players let Brian know they knew what was in store for them. A football field is 53 and a 1/3 yards wide. A half-gasser is performed by running down to the sideline and back for 106 and 2/3 total yards. The stopping and re-accelerating can be especially tough on the legs, not to mention your heart feeling like it is going to jump out of your chest.

“Since you all couldn't seem to finish the last 15 minutes of the fourth quarter, we are going to see if you can finish 15 half-gassers in under 18 seconds,” yelled Brian with the tone of a dictator. “You will get a generous 45 seconds rest between each rep, so if any one of you doesn't make the time, you'll be sorry.”

On Brian's whistle (which he liked to use a lot lately), the athletes took off down and back making the first time. They were still sore from the previous day, but knew they didn't want to suffer more of Brian's wrath if they didn't make it. They didn't call him the “Dark Knight” behind his back for nothing. Brian was, after all, the one who never seemed to run out of punishing exercises to perform.

During the sprints, Brian screamed coaching cues that were far from encouraging:

“Get your asses in gear, ladies! Pick 'em up and put 'em down.”

“No wonder we got smoked yesterday by the offense.”

“Looks like you are all carrying weights in your pants!”