How My Track Team Got So Huge

I read an article in The Atlantic this week by Alex Hutchinson about the role of luck in athletic success. There’s a lot in it to unpack, so I’m going to make my thoughts about it the first series in Warm Current. The piece is called, “An Under-appreciated Variable in Sports Success: Sometimes athletes just get lucky.”

One line in the piece quoted a scientist at the University of Toronto’s Sport Insight Lab who thinks that the way talent development in sports is usually framed leaves out luck entirely. He said, when it comes to cutting athletes from a team: “If there’s any way possible for you to avoid a selection, don’t select.”

I’ve coached middle school track in Seattle for the last four years. And while it’s officially a no-cut sport, I would never have cut a kid anyway. Not one.

You read that right, I WOULD NEVER CUT A KID FROM MY TEAM, even if I could have.

There are many reasons for this, one of which is, admittedly, competitive. The more kids on a team, the greater likelihood that you have more high performers. But the greater reason is that I love seeing what happens when you create a culture on a team in which kids feel they have a shot at experiencing their own growth. I have found that if you create an atmosphere in which every athlete feels empowered to uphold high standards, they will work hard and they will improve. And one outcome of that approach is that you will attract a lot of kids who want to develop character and leadership in addition to their athletic ability.

To get all those kids the opportunity, I wrote notes for the school’s morning announcements, sent emails to the yearbook teacher, the gym teacher, and to the PTA newsletter person. I attended school assemblies, visited classrooms, and emailed coaches for sports in other seasons. As a result, my team went from 75 kids the first year to more than 220 last season.

People often ask me how I manage that. For starters, I have three assistant coaches, who are a gigantic help. But the fact is, after a couple of days of culture creation with the kids’ input, all I have to do is blow a whistle and the kids all run to the middle of our practice field, and then I raise my hand and silently count down from five fingers to one. The group quiets down and pays attention before I get to zero every time.

With so many kids, it might seem impossible to develop an athlete, but I’ve found exactly the opposite. And here’s why: I have no idea which of these kids will succeed. I just empower them all with fundamentals, the security of our supportive culture and a few goals. The rest really sorta just happens.

Hutchinson’s article cites research showing that athletic success depends roughly 49% on talent, 49% on effort, and 2% on luck. But in simulations with thousands of competitors, the winner is rarely the person with the highest combination of talent and effort. It’s someone who ranks relatively highly on those measures and also gets lucky.

I’ve seen this play out dozens of times. The kid who struggled through practice for weeks suddenly drops an incredible performance at a meet. The athlete who didn’t seem engaged in March who is a bold leader by May. The awkward kid who doesn’t have many friends who eventually teaches techniques to other kids, who are paying rapt attention.

Who am I to decide at age 12 or 13 who has potential and who doesn’t? So why wouldn’t I want every single kid in the school on the team so we can find out?

Research on talent development shows that early performance is a terrible predictor of later success. Kids who dominate young might just be born a few months earlier than their classmates, or went through puberty early, or have parents who can afford private coaching.

So I keep as many kids in the system as long as possible. I give them all coaching, encouragement, and the chance to discover what they’re capable of. Some will go on to run in high school and college. Most won’t. But all of them get the experience of being part of a team, of pushing themselves, of having an adult who believes in their potential.

Because the truth is: I don’t know who will succeed. And neither does anyone else.

In upcoming newsletters, I’m going to explore the illusion of control, the “grind” culture in sports, business and life, and How accepting the role of luck frees you from the exhausting illusion of total control, and why success requires more than talent and hard work.

I’m also going to share my personal journey in training this year, including my struggles to set goals and deal with my declining abilities as I age. Please subscribe to get them all in your inbox.

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