The career of an athlete is a good case study for the merit and impact of mentors. But as New York Times online columnist Doug Glanville suggests in a web-only op-ed, “No Thanks, But Thanks,” athletes also help us understand how detractors and critics make us stronger and better at our jobs. Glanville points out how important it is to have a supporter during tough times. Philadelphia Phillies manager Charlie Manuel stuck by injured, lackluster closer Brad Lidge even though his performance didn’t always merit his sponsorship. It paid off: Lidge just sent his team to the National League Championships; the headline from the Associated Press read “Lidge Perfect, Phillies Rally in 9th to Reach NLCS.”
Glanville also notes, however, Michael Jordan’s arrogant, petty speech at his induction into the Basketball Hall of Fame. (ESPN’s J.A. Adande wrote that, “Michael Jordan’s Hall of Fame speech was from the heart. The thing is, his heart’s as cold as liquid nitrogen.” Nice one.)
The most poignant message I got from Jordan’s speech was this: thank your enemies. Because when I look back at my career, there were so many turning points, so many advocates . . . and so many detractors.
Glanville recalls his own defeats and detractors during his career in major league baseball (He’s reportedly writing a book about the major leagues, scheduled for publication next year.) Glanville writes about one particularly bad experience with an instructor in the Triple As:
In Buffalo, he kicked me out of the stadium (not just out of the game; I was banished from the stadium). I once heard him telling our hitting coach all the reasons he didn’t like me (he’d forgotten that I was sitting within earshot). In mid-season, he informed me that I would not be called up to the big leagues (how he could declare this with so many games left in the season was highly curious). He conveniently omitted one of my ongoing hitting streaks from my player report. He never let me work on one potentially productive part of my game, base-stealing; on the bases, I was routinely given the “stop” sign. That’s the G-rated list and only a small taste. It never ended.
Glanville ended up with a demotion of sorts to an instructional league in Arizona, where he faced off against his frustrations and failures. Fortunately, he met not only detractors, but a key supporter with a coach for the league:
Tom Gamboa was running the program… and made me a deal: work hard, play hard and see what happens. I did. I improved. Gamboa, who it turned out was managing a team that winter, finally told me, “You’re coming with me to Puerto Rico, but keep in mind, we play to win, not develop.”… I knew this was the defining moment. I had a chance to change a future that, it seemed, had been determined for me by someone who never took a minute to understand me. It was up to me.
This message of triumph over adversity is notably American in its timbre, but the sub-text is interesting. Unquestioning mentorship alone is not enough. The value of criticism is not only in its tough message, but also in its marriage with the right kind of mentorship—that is, finding support and criticism at precisely the right moments in your career.
Tags: career development, Mentorship, Sports
