That is often the solution offered to the problem of a team not performing up to expectations, whether those expectations have any basis in reality or not. The carnage coming off most any NCAA Division I sport season is evidence of that.

I know it comes with the territory. Many Division I college coaches get paid big money and if their teams do not achieve the success expected, the coaches often lose their jobs. Of course, many of them find another high-paying coaching job so I am not suggesting we pass the hat to help them with their moving costs.

Still, I do wonder if it is easier to fire a coach because of wins and losses than it is because of their behavior.

I am not interested in debating the hiring and firing of college coaches, though. I would rather focus on coaches who get paid a lot less, if anything at all. Unfortunately, some of the same expectations filter down to the high school and youth sports levels, as well.

With the exception of a few years in the middle, I have coached in some capacity since the mid-1980s, a decade of so of those years as a head coach of a high school wrestling team. In regard to wins and losses, my teams experienced a little success (emphasis on “little”) and a few individuals were able to experience greater success, but nowhere near the success I would have hoped when I started my coaching career.

Early in my career, I thought part of being a coach was being able to yell. I remember one day, as a JV baseball coach in my early to mid-twenties, observing one of my players driving recklessly out to the field for practice. What the player did was unsafe and I needed to deal with it. While his teammates played catch in the outfield, I laid into him “real good” for a few minutes near the pitcher’s mound and it felt good. Later that night, I told my roommate about what happened and how good it felt to lay into the player. He did not say much, if anything, but he gave me a questioning look.

I was too proud to fully realize it that night but that look told me I did something wrong. The next day, when I got to the coaches’ office, the player’s uniform was nicely folded, lying on a chair. At that point, the reality of what I did hit me. My actions led to him quitting the game he loved. Once again, my pride got in the way and I never apologized to him. I do not remember his name so I don’t even know to whom I should even apologize now. I can honestly and humbly say, it is one of the biggest regrets in my life.

I am glad to say my focus changed as I aged. At our pre-season meeting, I would often say to my wrestlers’ parents, “you have given us coaches great young men to coach, our hope is that we give them back to you at least a little better when the season is over.” I still wanted them to experience success on the mat but I knew I would not be happy with the job the other coaches and I did if they were not better human beings after three months with us.

When it comes to wins and losses, there were some seasons I should have probably given my salary back. When it comes to being a part of the lives of young people, though, there is no salary in the world big enough to match the pride I feel when I come in contact with some of the wrestlers I have had the honor of coaching and see the men they have become.

Now, as the parent of athletes, and not as much a coach, I get to sit back and watch other people coach my kids. My behavior as the parent will be reflective of my character and will indicate just how sincere my belief that teaching athletes to be good people is much more important than a good win/loss record. (Not that you can’t have both.)

As my compass, I rely on the example set by the parent of one of the most successful wrestlers I coached. I am sure there were times when he thought I could have done things differently or when he wished we had a better program. Still, after every meet or tournament, he always said, “Thanks, coach.”

I don’t care if it is t-ball, summer rec, a varsity sport or the major leagues, if the coaches are treating my children with respect and teaching them to be better human beings, they better hear me say, and only say, “Thanks, coach.”