Like many young basketball players despite having really big dreams for myself, I was never discouraged or told to be practical. Rather I was always encouraged to run after those dreams. My mother would often supply me with reading material that she felt would help me on my way. One of the books I was gifted as my love for the game grew was Terry Orlick’s (1945-2021), In Pursuit of Excellence. It is a well-known sports psychology book from a world-renowned leader in the applied fields of sport psychology, mental training, and excellence, who worked with the Canadian Olympic program. We have limited control over the physical elements of the game, such as our height, athleticism, and natural touch amongst other things – things athletes are often most recognized for. But we have almost complete control over the mental side of the game. The side of the game that separates those who achieve their dreams and those that don’t. My introduction to Terry Orlick’s book in high school was my first that dealt with how to approach success from a mental perspective.
After my first year of playing in university I transferred schools and landed at the University of Ottawa. That year we had a large graduating class that the coach felt had a chance to make a run at a national championship. In doing all he could to help us achieve that goal, he employed one of the most renowned professors in the human kinetics department, and his group of grad students, to work with us. With glowing adoration and excitement, the person he employed was Terry Orlick. I still remember sitting in a lecture hall as he talked to us about how to approach success in sports. But over twenty years later, the thing that stands out most to me now, was a study he had his grad students do with us. They wanted to measure how we interacted as teammates, and what were the tangible outcomes of those interactions. They came to both practices and games and measured the amount of positive and negative interactions we had with each other. They counted things like high-fives, words of encouragement, and even physical expressions of approval – like the infamous sports butt slap. What they found was that the more positive reinforcement, and interactions we exchanged, the more success we realized. Field goal percentages went up, and wins accumulated as we learned the results of their observations. They didn’t stay with the team the whole year but the lesson was clear: success can be realized by creating a positive feedback loop.
Now, with nearly two decades of high-level coaching experience on top of my playing career I can attest to the value of positive reinforcement and encouragement. As the saying goes (and as a certain yellow bear would agree), “You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar”. But that is also an incomplete conclusion. You see, positivity is good, and can lead you to do more of that which created the opportunity for positive reinforcement, but, to retain its value, it not only can’t be the only thing on the shelf, it has a shelf life. One of the conclusions my experience leads me to is that the study that Orlick and his grad students did was too short to give a complete picture.
If the only thing you do is offer positive reinforcement you will quickly learn that its impact will wain, it will be taken for granted and it won’t have the same gravity as time passes. The real-life comparison is when we tell someone we love them, be it a partner or a child. If we offer the greatest possible expression of our affection too much, it won’t hold the same weight as it first did. You could change it to a unique and uncommon phrase like “copper pennies” to renew the expression but it too must be offered in moderation to retain its value. In sports, this can be problematic for a number of reasons, not least of which is that there are some players that day in and day out deserve all the positive reinforcement in the world. Some players are so good in their effort, execution, humble approach and consistency, that you simply want to gush over them and give them what really is their due. But if you do, you run the risk of losing their ear as you do it. That is why I have always practiced a more balanced approach.
While I consciously seek out opportunities to praise and positively encourage players, I do not shy away from also telling them when they are off track and doing something wrong. Because anything not perceived as positive is remembered more readily, many players probably mistakenly characterize me as a harsh critic or always being on them. While I offer both praise and criticism liberally, the negative often trumps the positive in their memory. But without the balance, players would not react, adapt or ingrain the things they do right to become a part of their character. As we pursue excellence as individuals or as part of a team, we must do so by offering each other a realistic portrayal of where we are losing our way, alongside a healthy and conscious dose of positive reinforcement.