Every year my sons and I make a pilgrimage to the birthplace of my addiction for college basketball, Dayton, Ohio. I do this for two reasons. First, I love my boys. Second, I am incredibly stupid. You see, I spent the day before Father’s Day and half of Father’s Day itself making my body do things that God never intended it to do. During those two days, I attend Oliver Purnell’s Father-Son Basketball Camp. From 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Saturday, I was either being instructed on how to play the game of basketball or actually trying to do it myself.

This year was the fourth year that I’ve attempted to please my children by becoming “one with them and the hardwood.” I have walked away every year with several minor and non-life threatening injuries realizing that there was a reason I was never better than an intramural player. In a few weeks, my seven year old, Jason, will try to put into his own words just what it’s like watching his dad limp around and make a fool of himself for a day and a half.

Before you get the wrong impression of the Father-Son Camp, let me tell you that it’s one of the more enjoyable things that I get to do every year. I usually come back complaining about my aches and pains, but it is truly pleasurable. For only $165, you get to stay overnight in one of the dorms, eat like a pig three times a day, and walk away with a t-shirt for both of you and a basketball for your son. You get to talk to the players and coaches in a relaxed atmosphere and get to know more about the people that you cheer and jeer. This was my fourth year with my 10 year old, Justin, and my second with Jason. If I can still hobble around when Jason is 14, it will make 11 years running — and I already told OP that I would expect some type of a plaque.

While I was sitting on the floor of the old UD Fieldhouse — sweating like I had just dug a hole the size of the Grand Canyon — I had an opportunity to think about our coaches and what they do for a living. Every one of us has a job of varied responsibilities. If you are a supervisor or manager of some type you often end up doing things that aren’t exactly at the top of the things that you’d like to do. More often than not, what you do for most of any day cannot be found in your job description. We all have our view of what a coach does, but I have to wonder just how close we are to reality.

A coach is usually judged by the number of wins and losses they produce each year. In some cases, winning isn’t good enough. All we have to do is take a look 50 miles to the south and see that sometimes the wishes of the fans/press/school administration ask for success beyond that. Skip Prosser left for many reasons, but the fact that winning 20 games every year while running a clean program was not good enough meant something was missing.

To get to where he needs to go, the coach has to be able to wear many hats. If most of us were asked to name the most important job that a coach has, it would probably be calling a good game. That in itself has many facets. The coach has to be able to prepare his players on what to expect from the next opponent. In addition, he has to make the right decisions concerning who to play and when, what defense to play and when to switch, when to substitute, what offense to run each time down the court, and when to call those important times out.

Behind the scenes however, much more takes place. If a coach works 40 hours a week — which probably is only about 50% of his actual time spent — only four to six of those are actually on the sidelines during a game. What in the world does a coach do with the rest of his time to earn $500,000 a year?

If you asked most coaches why they went into coaching, you would get a fairly universal answer: they love to teach. Sure, they love the game and the ability to succeed, but it all comes down to how they can pass knowledge on to these 18-22 year olds. While sitting on the floor of the Fieldhouse, I was able to see Purnell in a way I’m not really accustomed. For a man that displays little passion on the court, he certainly overwhelmed us with his intensity when talking the game. His level of concentration was easily seen. Even though we were a bunch of overweight dads with kids that probably weren’t good enough to eventually play high school basketball, it was obvious the he wanted us to learn and understand.

But being a good teacher isn’t enough. Today’s coach, more so that ever, must be a good salesperson. His livelihood is determined by the ability to sell a 17 year-old on the idea that as a player, he will succeed better with that coach’s program than any other. Let’s don’t kid ourselves. Every kid that gets a full ride to a Division I school believes that he will one day earn a living playing basketball. More than likely, they all believe that those checks will be coming from one of the teams in the NBA. Unless a coach can make that kid believe that this dream can be achieved, he will probably lose.

We can sit back in our simulated leather armchairs and criticize our favorite coach for not signing Johnny All-American. There are a number of things that happen behind the scenes that none of us will ever know. There are pressures put on players by friends, parents, and coaches that far outweigh whatever takes place between Purnell and those 17 year-olds. We might all be amazed at what a great recruiter Purnell was if he was the head coach at Duke.

In every clubhouse there are problems. Even at the best of schools, there are jealousies, racial and social tensions, and even problems about who is dating whom. Sam Smith left the program because he didn’t like what the players were doing to their bodies and the fact that too many players were worried about their own stats. These are problems that the father figure/Priest/Policeman (Head Coach) needs to deal with. Is this something he is trained to do? Probably not. Is it something that is essential to his success? Without a doubt.

A coach has to be able to do more things than write down X’s and O’s on a chalkboard. He needs to be much more than we can even realize. Very few of us have jobs that everybody has an opinion about. Luckily, there aren’t 13,000 people looking over my shoulder when I sit down at my desk at work. Last time I checked, there weren’t any newspaper articles about how I need to do this better or that better. And I am pretty sure that there are no national publications suggesting that I am on the hot seat at work and had better turn things around in a hurry.

Coaches are easy to criticize, but they have a job that encounters numerous potholes on the road to success that we never even have to consider. So the next time you are ready to blurt out some four-letter expletive at a game, think about the time you surfed the Internet at work and were glad 13,000 sets of eyes weren’t sitting in your office.