I was curled up on the couch reading The Martian and trying to avoid thinking about Mr. Griffin and his sleazy contract when Dad walked in. He wore the same old khaki pants and a wrinkled button-down shirt. At least he didn’t have acne anymore, though the pockmarks on his face showed that his skin had looked just like mine back in the day.
“Hi Kelvin,” he said.
I didn’t even look up. “Hey.”
“How was school?”
“Fine.”
“Liking the new math teacher any more?”
I didn’t want to go there. “Eh.”
“So…a physicist from London is lecturing at the university about black holes next Friday evening. Want to go?”
While half the senior class was at some party? “Nah.”
“You’ll be sure to get sucked in.”
It took all my strength not to roll my eyes.
“I don’t need to know until late in the week. You think about it until then, okay Kelvin?”
“Sure, Dad.”
I felt him standing by the doorway, stalling. I guess Dad couldn’t think of anything else to say, because after a minute, he continued on towards the kitchen.
“How about you, Christy. You have something you’d like to work on?”
It was Monday afternoon. Mr. Griffin just got through explaining the “rules.” Each of us would start our 30 day period as soon as we chose our goal. He didn’t want us to wait too long, or else we’d lose out on precious time. One goal immediately came to my mind, but there was no way I was going to discuss it in front of the class. When asked, I just lied and said I couldn’t think of anything. Fortunately, Mr. Griffin moved on to Christy to find his first sucker.
“No, I don’t have anything,” Christy said.
“Nothing?”
“Nah. I had one, but I gave up on it.”
“What was that?” Mr. Griffin asked.
“Last year, when coach appointed me captain of the girls’ swim team, I made it my goal to win the State Championship this year.”
“Why’d you give up on it?”
“You didn’t hear what happened?”
Mr. Griffin rubbed his chin. “Was that the drunk driver?”
Christy nodded and tears collected in her eyes. “Coach was killed the week before school began.”
“They haven’t given you anyone else?”
“No.” Christy shoved her hands into the narrow gap between her crossed legs. “I approached the athletic director, and he said he didn’t have the time to get someone new. I learned later that they used most of the budget to get an extra assistant coach for the football team.”
“Don’t they legally have to give you a coach?”
“Yeah. There’s this lady who works as a pool attendant who said she’d be willing to accompany us to meets, so he gave her a tiny salary and appointed her as our official coach. She doesn’t do anything though.”
“So who runs practice?”
“Jill and I. Jill is my co-captain. But we don’t know what we’re doing. The older girls aren’t making any progress, and the younger ones are completely lost.”
Mr. Griffin leaned on the edge of his desk. “Tell me about your coach.”
“Coach Silver was amazing. When she made me captain and told me she wanted to win States this year, I actually thought we had a chance.”
“And now?”
Christy shook her head. “Now we’re hopeless.”
Mr. Griffin swept his eyes over the entire class. “You get what you settle for.”
Christy’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
“You probably think that you gave up on your goal because it went out of reach. I expect it’s the opposite: your goal left your reach because you gave up on it.”
“Our coach died!” Christy’s tears spilled down her cheeks. Why was Mr. Griffin being so heartless?
“Did you only want to win for the coach?” he asked.
Christy mumbled, “Of course not. For all of us.”
“Then why give up just because you lost your coach?”
“We’re not giving up. We’re just hopeless.” A new rush of anguish overcame her.
“Hopeless. An interesting choice of language. You didn’t say you’re incapable. After all, you have the same athletes on the team that you had before your coach died, so if you had the physical capabilities to win before, you’ve still got them now. As you point out, what’s changed is your belief in yourselves. You no longer have hope.”
“What’s changed,” Christy sat up straight and drove her words like daggers, “is that our coach is dead! We’re lost without her.”
Mr. Griffin kept his cool. “I’m not saying that your path is without challenges. But after all, there’s little thrill in achieving easy victories. My goal is to stretch you, to show you that you’re capable of achieving so much more than you realize.”
“I know what the team is capable of, Mr. Griffin, and the championship is beyond us.”
Mr. Griffin sighed and went to the whiteboard. “I want you all to remember this quote.” He wrote down:
The Size of your Dreams must always exceed your current capacity to achieve them.
—Ellen Johnson Sirleaf
“Who is she?” Christy asked.
“The first woman ever elected President of an African nation. She also said, ‘If your dreams do not scare you, they are not big enough.’ She would know about scary dreams. Her efforts to end Liberia’s cycle of violence and promote women’s rights earned her a Nobel Peace Prize.”
“Not all of us are looking to change the world, Mr. Griffin,” Christy said.
“Big changes evolve from small changes, Christy. Today, we might only be working on a high school swim team, but you never know what challenge tomorrow brings. Master these tools now, and you’ll be prepared to face whatever lies ahead.”
Christy sank into her chair and crossed her arms.
Mr. Griffin put down the whiteboard marker. “I know you’re all deeply skeptical of my approach. Tell me, Christy, if following my steps leads you to win the State Championship, will I win you over to my methods?”
Christy’s head bent to the side. “You serious?”
“You bet. If you won the Championship, would you trust me then?”
“Absolutely.”
“I believe it’s possible, but only if you’re willing to try.”
Christy shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll try. Why not? You’ll fail me anyhow if I don’t.”
“No, not like that. I’m not talking about putting a toe in the water. I’m talking about going all in, giving me everything you’ve got.”
“I thought you said this was going to only be five minutes a day for 30 days?”
“That’s right, your homework from me will only be five minutes a day for 30 days, but I need your complete dedication during those five minutes. Plus, you’ll give yourself additional tasks to complete your goal. You’ll need to put the same dedication into those. Agreed?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“This is not a guessing game, Christy. Remember, you get what you settle for. Winning is going to take more dedication than that.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. “I’m dedicated.”
Mr. Griffin shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m not seeing a girl who’s passionate about winning the State Championship.”
“What?” Christy slapped her hand against her desk. “How can you say that?”
“You think you have the passion it takes?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then if you have the passion and the dedication, come up here.”
Christy stepped up to the front of the room.
“Face the class and close your eyes. Go on, no one’s going to laugh at you. Good. Now ask yourself, what would it mean to you to lead your team to victory in the State Championship?”
“It would be great.”
“Just great? I want you to imagine that you’ve made it to the Championship and it’s neck and neck. What’s the last event?”
“The 4 x 100 relay.”
“What place are you swimming?”
“Last, I’m the anchor.”
“Excellent. So you’re standing on the edge of the pool, waiting your turn. The girls on your team are good, but the competition is better. To your left and right, the anchors from the other teams jump into the pool. Finally, your teammate hits the edge of the pool, and you jump in. You’re behind, but determined. By the time you finish your first lap, you’ve caught up to all but two of the swimmers. 50 yards to go. You’re halfway through the second lap when you pass the next girl. 25 yards. You’re tired. Your arms are burning. But nothing’s going to stop you. You draw strength from deep down. 15 yards. She’s still ahead. 10 yards. You’re getting close. 5 yards. You’ve pulled even. You reach out and, by a finger’s breath, hit the edge of the pool first.
“Can you see it, Christy?”
Christy nodded.
“Can you feel it, Christy?”
“Yes.”
“What happens next?”
“The entire team goes crazy. They all jump into the pool and hug me. We’re all screaming, some even crying.” Christy’s eyes swelled.
Mr. Griffin said, “You barely have time to towel off before someone hands you the largest trophy you’ve ever seen and a microphone. What do you say?”
“I’d take the trophy over to the stands.”
“Why? Who’s in the stands?”
“Coach Silver’s nine-year-old daughter Kim is there, watching with her dad. I’d say, ‘we want you to have this, Kim, from all the girls on the team. Whenever you look at it, we want you to remember everything your mom did for us. Without her, we never could have won. And remember all that she did for you. You didn’t have her long enough. But with the gifts she gave you, you can do anything!”
“I want everyone to remember this look on Christy’s face. That’s the look of inspiration. With the expression she had ten minutes ago, she was barely capable of achieving the ordinary. With this look, she’s ready to take on the extraordinary. Christy, make the sound of victory you’re feeling right now.”
Christy raised her eyebrows and shook her head.
“Come now, Christy. You told me you were fully dedicated.”
She turned away and wiped her eyes.
Mr. Griffin faced us. “One reason that so few people achieve the extraordinary is that we get embarrassed by the power of our own greatness. Don’t let Christy fall into that trap. If you believe in her, let her know.”
Jarod, who never minded making an ass of himself in class, pumped his fist and started chanting, “Christy! Christy!”
Darnell and I looked at each other. I shrugged and joined in. Darnell threw his fist in the air. Ordinarily, teachers quieted us down when we started getting too rowdy, but Mr. Griffin screamed, “Louder!”
“Christy! Christy!”
“Don’t let her stand there alone. If you believe in her, get on your feet.”
Jarod was the first to rise. This math class was finally jiving with him. Once he was up, Darnell and I also stood up. “Christy! Christy!”
“You see, Christy,” Mr. Griffin said, “you can’t embarrass yourself in front of them. They’re all behind you. They all believe in you. Now, let me hear the sound of victory.”
Christy thrust her arms high, “Yeah!”
“Do it again. Louder”
“Yeaaaaaaaah!”
“Once again, but this time, I want everyone who believes in Christy to join in. Go!”
We all shouted. Jarod took her in a bear hug. When he let go, Darnell stepped forward, with arms halfway out, then backed off, hovering just beyond her reach.
“Now stop,” Mr. Griffin said.
The class grew quiet.
“Everyone take your seats. That was the easy part.”
Easy?
“Tell me, Christy, what would you do to make that vision a reality?”
“Anything.”
“Anything? Be careful what you commit to. To get you there, we may have to put that ‘anything’ to the test.”
Christy nodded. “What do I do now?”
“First, take a notecard. You’re going to create what I call an Outcome Card.” Mr. Griffin handed her one from his desk. “Write on the top:
I intend to captain the girls’ swim team to Victory in the State Championship on . . .
“When’s the championship?”
“March 8th.”
I intend to captain the girls’ swim team to victory in the State Championships on March 8th. To accomplish this, I will do the following:
“Got it,” Christy looked up. “What do I write next?”
“I have no idea,” Mr. Griffin said.
“That’s all that goes on the card?”
“No. You need to write down the steps you’ll take.”
“What are the steps?” Christy asked.
“How should I know?” Mr. Griffin shrugged. “I don’t know what it takes to win at swimming. I can’t even do the backstroke.”
“You don’t know? So we’ve done all of this for nothing?”
“Hardly for nothing. Tell me what you need to do.”
Christy slumped in her chair. “I don’t know.”
“I think you know far more than you’re letting on. And if you’re truly stuck, I bet you can find others willing to lend you a hand.”
Turning to the class, he said, “Raise your hand if you’re willing to help Christy find the answers she needs.”
All of us raised our hands.
Turning back to Christy, he said, “I’ll help too. Just don’t expect others to have the answers for you. You’ll get plenty of suggestions, probably more than you can handle, but the ultimate decision has to rest with you. Understand?”
Christy nodded.
“Now, tell me one thing you need to do to captain your team to the Championship.”
Christy bit the end of her pen. “Get a decent coach I guess.”
“I’m not sure a decent coach will cut it at this point, are you?”
Christy sat straighter. “No. To save us, we need an amazing coach.”
“Excellent, so now add to your card:
1. Find an amazing coach
Christy wrote it down. “But how do I do that? We don’t even have the budget to hire one.”
“True. Since this is such an important step, and since it will have a distinct timeline and its own collection of steps, I think it merits a notecard of its own.” Mr. Griffin handed her another card. “This time, write at the top:
I intend to find an amazing coach for the girls swim team by . . .
“When do you need the coach by?” Mr. Griffin asked.
“We need her already.”
“How long can you give it?”
Christy thought for a moment. “I’d say no more than two weeks.”
“Then write:
I intend to find an amazing coach for the girls’ swim team by November 24. To accomplish this, I will do the following steps.
“Now we’re back where we started,” Christy said. “I don’t know what to put down.”
“As you were brave enough to go first, I’m going to help you with this card. You yourself said that a good coach just won’t cut it. You need an amazing coach. Tell me, who are the best swimming coaches in the world?”
“I don’t know. I suppose the Olympics coaches. Or the coaches of the top college programs.”
“Excellent. Start with them.”
Christy shot up in her chair. “I can’t do that!”
“Why not?”
“What do you want me to do, call the Russian Olympics coach and tell her I’m a high school student looking for a swim coach, and oh yeah, I have no budget to pay you, but would you help me out by coaching me for free?”
“I’d be inclined to start with the US Olympics coach rather than the Russian, but why not? Worst case, you’ll get a no, which leaves you no worse off than you are now.”
“I’m guaranteed to get a no, so why bother wasting my time?”
“Granted, if you call her up and yap like a whiny teenager, ‘I’m looking for a coach who’s willing to work for free,’ then you’ll get a no.”
“So what do I say?”
“Don’t tell her what you want her to do, tell her why you want her to do it.”
Christy brow pinched. “I want her to do it because we need a coach.”
“No, that’s still what you want her to do.” Mr. Griffin groaned. “You need to sell her on your vision.”
Christy tilted her head. “How do I do that?”
“Tell me, why do you need a coach?” Mr. Griffin tapped his pen against his palm.
“So we can win.”
“And what will you do if you win?”
“Dedicate the victory to Coach Silver’s memory.”
“Why?”
“She was an amazing coach and got killed by a drunk driver.” Christy pursed her lips. “We miss her.”
“That” Mr. Griffin pointed his pen at her, “is a lot more compelling than ‘we want a coach for free.’”
“Yeah,” Jarod said, “when you first said you wanted a new coach, I didn’t care all that much. But when you stood in front of the class and dreamed up your win at State’s, I got all excited for you.”
Christy turned to face him. “Really?”
“For sure.”
“So,” Mr. Griffin said, “now can you think of what you could say to a top coach?”
“I guess I could tell her about Coach Silver and how she was killed and how we want to win State’s and dedicate the win in her memory.”
Jarod added, “Even I’d coach your team if you talked to me like that.”
Christy smacked him on the side of the head. “You can barely even float.”
“You have a powerful vision, Christy,” Mr. Griffin said. “It’s my experience that the best coaches love their sport and love helping others improve. Throw in a good cause, and I think you’ll be surprised at how willing they’ll be to help.”
“That doesn’t mean she’d move here from Russia to coach us,” Christy said.
“Still on the Russian Olympics coach?” Mr. Griffin asked. “No, she won’t move here to work with you. But you’ve defined success too narrowly. If you’re looking for one of these coaches to quit their job and coach you instead, you’re dreaming.”
“But I need a coach.” Christy turned her hands up. “How else could I define success?”
“Class, any of you have any thoughts?”
“I think,” Darnell said, “that you could ask them if there’s any help they’d be willing to give, even if it’s not actually coaching you. Maybe they could give you tips or something.”
“We need more than just advice at this point.”
“Of course you do,” Mr. Griffin said, “but Darnell’s right. You don’t need to get everything on the first call. The Russian Olympics coach is connected to top coaches all over the world, including some who live several thousand miles closer. She might be willing to make an introduction or even look at a video of one of your practices and give you feedback over video conference.”
“You really think she’d say yes?”
“Absolutely,” Mr. Griffin said. “I think there’s at least a 10% chance.”
Whatever light had built up in Christy’s eyes went out. “Only 10%? So now we’re back to nowhere.”
“Not even close. Tell me, what separates great salespeople from ordinary ones?”
Christy shrugged. “I suppose it’s the ability to get people to say yes.”
“That’s the second greatest distinction. More important is the ability to hear the word no.”
“How does that help?” Jarod asked.
“Ordinary salespeople go out on a sales call, and if they get a no, they get discouraged. The great ones hear no after no and keep going. Some even tell themselves that they need to hear no ten times to get one yes. Getting a no actually excites them, as they tell themselves that it brings them closer and closer to getting a yes.”
“What are you saying?” Christy asked.
“Like I told you before, each time you reach a world class coach and tell her your story, you might have a 10% chance of getting her to help you out. So if you’re only willing to call one or two coaches, the odds are that you’ll fail. But remember, this is a math class. What would happen to your odds if you called 20?”
“Now you want me to call 20 of the best coaches in the world?”
“A few minutes ago, when I asked you what you’d be willing to do to reach your goal, you said anything. Now you’re telling me that making 20 phone calls is beyond you?”
“I guess not.”
“Good. So on your second notecard, write down the following steps:
1. Research the top swimming coaches in the world
2. Make a list of 20 World Class Coaches to reach out to
“But here’s the thing, if you call with the expectation of getting a no, they’ll detect that in your voice. Before each call, you must reconnect with your vision and fully believe that you’ll get a yes.”
“That makes sense to me,” Christy said. “Coach Silver always told us that no matter how strong our competition, we could never go into a race thinking we were going to lose.”
“Excellent, then add to your card:
3. Before each call, I will reconnect with my vision and get myself into a peak state
“Peak state?”
“Yes, in an excited, high energy, positive state of being. When you’re in a peak state, it’s contagious. Let’s add one more:
4. Call each coach, and be open to whatever help they offer to give
“Are you willing to do all of that?”
“Yes, Mr. Griffin.”
“If you do all of that, I expect that before your two-week deadline you’ll have the coaching you need. Remember to read your cards every morning and night and check off the app each time. Your 30-day commitment starts now.”
The bell rang.
“Remember, all of you committed to help Christy. Homework for tonight, I want everyone researching the world’s top swimming coaches. Names are good, but let’s not settle for good. Go the extra mile and get Christy phone numbers as well.”
The rest of the day, I couldn’t get that class out of my mind. At first, Mr. Griffin had seemed like an insensitive jerk. Rather than sympathizing with Christy’s situation, he attacked her. I’d done that plenty of times myself, yelling at people when I thought they were doing the wrong thing, and it only resulted in a blowup. I learned that if I wanted people to respond to me, I was better off being sympathetic. Yet, despite his attacks, Christy had shifted, and even I believed that she might be able to find herself a coach now. How had he done that?
As soon as I got home, I created a new Google Sheet entitled The World’s Top Swimming Coaches. I immediately invited Christy, Jarod, and Darnell and gave them editorial access to the spreadsheet. Then, after a moment, I added Mr. Griffin as well. Why not? He said he’d help.
Getting a list of the top college coaches would be easy. I could download the college rankings from the past few years and look into their programs. Perhaps I’d do that if I had time. For now, I wanted to set my sights a bit higher.
After an hour and a half of work, and plenty of help from Google Translate, I managed to find not only my target’s mobile phone number but her home number and email as well. I sat back and admired my work, picturing the expression on Christy’s face when she saw the contact information for the Russian Olympics coach.
