No work is beneath me.
I ask each group of girls how many own dogs, usually half. "Is it fun to have a dog?" "It's great." "Is there anything bad about having a dog?" "Picking up the poops."
Every job, every avocation, every relationship brings "picking up the poops" elements.
If the court were dusty before a game, I'd find the mop to clean the floor. It's better for the players. Scut work isn't below me.
I bring a towel to help cope with water bottle spills. Players should be policing the bench after the game. There's no excuse to have tape balls, sports drink containers, or hair bands making a mess. Practice pinnies don't wash themselves.
Middle school coaching doesn't attract managers to help with tracking stats, corralling basketballs, or other tasks.
Japan's national teams don't always clean up in the medals department, but they leave their locker room spotless.
Global sports fans know the story of the New Zealand All-Blacks rugby team. If they've read James Kerr's Legacy, they also know that "sweep the sheds" is a core concept for the most dominant team in history.
Attention to detail separates the elite from the ordinary. A lot of that detail, "doing five more" minutes on a drill, extra conditioning, more video study, doing the work as though we were signing it, defines us. "Champions do extra."
Lagniappe. Do the work.
