Greg Everett once told me that a large percentage of the people who read this magazine are coaches. I always try to keep this in mind when I write articles. Some of you might not be coaches presently, and your focus is entirely on your own lifting. That’s cool. But as I’ve said before, it’s almost impossible to spend an extended amount of time in this sport without somebody asking you to coach at some point. This means you’ll probably do some coaching someday, even if you’re not doing it right now.

Your technical expertise and programming skill are tremendously important when you’re a coach. Those things are the nuts and bolts of the business. However, I personally think the most important aspect of coaching is how you act. It’s the ultimate deal-breaker. You can be the most technically skilled coach in the solar system, and you’ll still have an empty gym if you act like a jagoff. Nobody will want to be around you, whether you design great training programs or not.

I’m going to give you some miscellaneous tips about how you should act when you’re a coach. Is this information going to be one-sided? Absolutely. My personal opinion is going to be a big part of it. So you’re completely within your rights if you want to read this stuff and then toss it in the dumpster because you don’t agree with me.

At the risk of making this article too scattered, I’m going to concentrate on one specific area. I’m talking about the degree of self-absorption, ego, and me-me-me behavior that’s appropriate when you’re a coach. Most coaches have big egos. It’s part of the business, and there’s nothing wrong with it. If you really want to know the truth, it’s actually pretty important for a coach to have a big ego. However, the way that egotism is communicated through words and behavior…that’s a different topic. This is where athletes (and just people in general) can get totally turned off if you don’t give off the right vibe.

What I’m trying to say is that we’re going to take a look at this idea: When you’re a coach, you can’t make everything about YOU. You have to make everything about YOUR ATHLETES. It’s a slippery slope because we all have a basic element of selfishness in our personality. It’s human nature. We want good things for ourselves. Coaches want good things for themselves, too. However, there’s a specific way to handle this selfish impulse so you’ll come across like a good coach instead of a self-centered toolbag.

It’s easy to spot coaches who think it’s all about them. To tell you the truth, it’s also an easy trap to fall into when you’re a coach. If you’re good at what you do, you probably get a lot of praise and compliments. It’s the most natural thing in the world for this praise to go straight to your head. Before you know it, you’re a good coach and a good person who acts like a jackass because you’ve started to believe your own headlines. Everybody tells you how wonderful you are, and it just creeps into your bones.

I’ve been guilty of this from time to time. Maybe you have too? So let’s read about this subject, shall we? Hopefully, we’ll finish with something that will help us all keep our heads and actions straight.

First, an example of how to act right…

Let me tell you about one of the most impressive things I’ve seen in my weightlifting years. I think I can just about guarantee it’ll make you a better person.

The 2000 Olympic Trials was held in New Orleans, Louisiana. I was there. Every Trials is special, but this one was historically significant because it was the first ever Olympic Trials for the women’s division. For those of you who don’t know, women’s weightlifting had been up and running since the 80s, but it wasn’t admitted into the Olympics until the conclusion of the 1996 Atlanta Games. The ladies had been competing at national and world meets for years, but the 2000 Olympics in Sydney was their first time at the big dance. The buzz was working overtime about who was going to be on America’s first women’s Olympic Team.

Our top men and women showed up to New Orleans and battled it out. When the smoke cleared, the Olympic Team was Oscar Chaplin and Shane Hamman for the men. And our first US Olympic Team in women’s weightlifting was Tara Nott, Robin Goad, Cara Heads-Lane, and Cheryl Haworth.

After the competition was over, a banquet was held for the athletes, coaches, and officials to celebrate our newly crowned Olympians. It was a pretty special gathering for everybody in US Weightlifting. I went to it mainly because I heard they were serving prime rib, but I also wanted to see the festivities. One of the coolest moments of the banquet was when the organizers presented a special tribute to Robin Goad. You see, Robin was the only member of the Olympic Team who came from the early days of women’s weightlifting. She had been on the scene almost right from the beginning and she actually won the World Championship in 1994. Most of the women from her generation had retired before 2000 rolled around, so they never got their shot at the Games. But Robin had continued fighting and she was basically the last of the nationally-ranked Mohicans from the first generation of female lifters. Needless to say, it was a big damn deal when she made the Team.

So at the banquet, they called her up to the podium and gave her a tribute. If I remember correctly, Jim Schmitz actually presented her with the first team trophy our US women ever won at the World Championship. Lots of tears in the room when that happened, I can tell you. In the middle of all the emotion and celebration, Robin got to step up to the microphone and say a few words.

That moment was supposed to be about her. If she would have wanted to, she could have talked about her career, all the glory she was experiencing, all the obstacles she had conquered, how good it felt to make the Team after all those years…that kind of stuff. It would have been totally appropriate for her to be a little selfish and maybe pat herself on the back, because everybody knew how hard she had worked to get to the top.

But she didn’t take it in that direction. Instead, she dedicated her whole Olympic experience to all the women from the old days who started the sport with her and never got the chance to reach the pinnacle. She didn’t make the moment about herself. She used those few minutes to honor other people, all the ladies who had trained and competed with her over the years and built up the women’s movement in our sport. Her speech was completely devoid of any self-indulgence or me-me-me talk. She took the tribute that was supposed to be about her…and used it to pay homage to her former teammates and competitors.

It was probably one of most respectable things I’ve ever heard because it was just so humble and unselfish. It didn’t surprise me at all, either. Robin was a good friend of mine. She had actually married one of my teammates and training partners, Dean Goad, and we had all spent some great years lifting together back in the 90s. The speech she gave at the Trials was completely consistent with her character. She was just a very classy gal, plain and simple.

People respond to this kind of behavior, know what I mean? They admire it, and it makes them feel good. They respect you more when you do things like this. Hell, I still remember it after almost 15 years. To me, this is a prime example of the way you’re supposed to act. If you disagree, that’s fine. But I’m right, and you’re wrong.

So, are we not allowed to have ANY pride or ego?

In other words, I’m saying you can only be a coach if you’re 100 percent altruistic, right? You literally can’t have any self-interest. Every single thing you do and say has to be modest, humble, and completely devoid of any personal desire for recognition. Correct?

No, that’s not the way it is. There’s a connection between having a big ego and acting modestly. All of the best coaches and athletes have big egos. It's actually an important part of being successful. A big ego gives you belief in yourself. When you get in jams, you expect to be successful simply because you have a lot of faith in your ability and you know you’ll be able to handle the problem. You see yourself as being strong enough to succeed, so that’s what you do.

But that's different from acting like a jackass. That's the balance of the two. You want to have a big ego but ACT humble and unassuming. You've met champions who were very modest, right? These are the people like Robin and other great legends who don’t wave their pride around like a big sausage. They’ve got a list of accomplishments longer than your large intestine, but they don’t shove it in your face. Trust me, they've got big egos. But they don't act like buttholes, which is the perfect combination. There's a difference between what's going on INSIDE you and what you project OUTWARDLY to others. Seeing yourself as a champion is a great thing. Behaving like a d-bag isn't.

Obviously, we have to acknowledge the great ones who also act like arrogant d-bags. They're out there. Professional sports, particularly mainstream American sports, are great places to find them. Some of you might like that attitude. You might prefer “swag” to modesty. I understand that. I don’t agree with it, but I understand it. But make sure you understand that these types usually don't inspire people in the same way as the champions with humility. It's a lousy experience when you meet a champion and they disappoint you by acting like idiots. It spoils the respect you have for them. But when you meet a champion and they're friendly and encouraging, it's the best feeling in the world. That’s what we should all aspire to.

When you’re a coach, you have goals. These goals are the things you personally want to accomplish. This is a good thing. However, that’s where the caution comes in. Remember, your goals are going to be accomplished by other people. You’re the coach, but the athletes are the ones who walk out onto the platform and hit the big lifts that make your goals happen. Knowing this, it creates a situation where your self-interest is dependent on the performances of others. This means one of your top priorities has to be preparing your athletes in the best way, and that includes managing your relationships with them. Your relationship will suffer if the athlete doesn’t like you, and most athletes don’t like coaches who wear their selfishness around like a bright red jacket. To make a long story short, the coach gets what he wants if the athletes get what they want. And athletes want to feel like they’re valued. If the coach makes it clear that his number one priority is himself, it’s going to put a dent in this whole thing.

Are you a “me” coach or a “we” coach?

You’re asking yourself, “How can I make sure I handle this the right way? What are some tangible things I can do to give off the right impression to athletes?”

I’ll give you a really easy one. Just use the word “we” as much as possible. Every time you use it, it creates the idea that this whole thing is a group effort. Giving strength to the group is how teams are built. Great teams make great programs, and they usually produce great results.

As I mentioned earlier, it’s easy to slip into the me-me-me quicksand. All it takes is a long stream of praise and compliments without anything to humble you down. Before you know it, you’ve started to believe you’re above everything…and everybody. All coaches, if they’re good at their jobs, will suffer the occasional bout of this. The hardest thing is that it happens invisibly and usually without your knowledge. The only thing that solves it, unfortunately, is some kind of comeuppance. Something has to happen to neuter you back a little bit, and it’ll probably be something that’s a little embarrassing and painful. Those things are good for you though, know what I mean? They remind you that you’re not a golden god. As Tom Hanks once said, “You never really learn anything unless you get your ass kicked first.”

So there you have it, brothers and sisters. A bunch of Matt Foreman’s personal opinions about how you should act when you’re a coach. The bottom line is that it’s hard to go wrong when you treat other people well. I know that’s not rocket science, but it’s easy to overlook sometimes. We all need occasional reminders of the basics.