If you’ve ever lived in a small town, you know that football is the king of sports during the fall. On any given Friday night, the stands will be full of rabid fans, cheering on the hometown boys. These aren’t just kids we’ve heard about. They’re kids we know from the grocery store, the playground, and all over the town. We know their families, their siblings, and their parents. Heck, we often know their grandparents too. We’ve watched these kids grow up. They’re more like extended family than anything else.

The Hectic Household lies just outside a moderate sized town in Central Kansas. People know about our town for the Kansas Cosmosphere, a world class Smithsonian-affiliated Air & Space museum. Some folks know about us because we have one of the few salt mines in the world that you can go into and take a tour, Strataca. Kids across Kansas mostly know of our town because the Kansas State Fair is held here for 10 days every September.  For a long time, that’s how we were known. Our High School football team were the doormats of large school football. The stands were mostly empty and the losses were by lopsided scores. The field was a mess, with a perpetually wet or under-water corner to one end zone. In short, nobody knew of us because of High School football. NOBODY.

But things changed 13 years ago when a new coach came to town. He brought a different attitude about hard work and winning. He brought an expectation that you worked hard all the time, and you won. It was that simple…working hard leads to winning. And not long after his tenure began, the team did start to win. And win big.

Our small town home team bears the nickname Salthawks. The name is derived from the existence of the huge deposits of salt beneath our city. In years gone by, salt was the #1 product from our town. Kind of an odd legacy, but it is what we have. So week in and week out we cheer on our Salthawks. The Blue and Gold signs, jerseys, and paraphernalia can be seen all over town. In store windows, on elementary school kids, and adorning cars. When the team plays out of town, there is a huge following that attends the games. And like all good fans, they are loud. Really, really loud.

One of the reasons for this solid following is the string of 10 State Championship games and 7 State Championships that the team has earned over the past 12 years. That’s a great run at any level, but in the High School ranks it’s simply amazing. Many folks attribute this winning to the expectation that hard work leads to success. Period.

Unfortunately, last Spring the winningest Salthawk football coach left for another opportunity. The team had begun to drift away from the principle of hard work, and the results showed.

This past Thanksgiving weekend was the culmination of the High School football season, with the 6A championship game. Despite carrying a 5-4 record into the playoffs, three wins later the unlikeliest of Salthawk teams clawed their way to the Championship game. Their opponents were undefeated, and coached by a former assistant to the Salthawks. He was even running the same offense the Salthawks had run for 11 years, so the fans and players knew it well. Our first-year coach was less familiar with it, but his defensive assistants seemed to have a game plan. Throughout the first half the team did well. In the second half, our boys struggled, and when time expired the Salthawks were on the losing end of the contest. They had finished 2nd in the largest school division in the State, but were understandably disappointed.

As I contemplated the last couple of seasons I thought about what the boys had learned over their years as Salthawk Football Players. This was pretty close to my heart, as my oldest son had been a player throughout his high school career. Last year, his Senior year, the Salthawks failed to make the playoffs for the first time in over 10 years, and shortly after that, their long-time coach announced he was leaving for a new coaching job in Kansas City.

I had the opportunity to talk to my oldest son about what’s different now. The last three State Championship games have been a loss, not playing, and another loss. Both losses were pretty sound, so it can’t be attributed to luck of the other team.

He had an interesting take that echoes some sentiments that I’ve had. The kids of today don’t have the same view of hard work that he has, nor that I have. The preponderance of one-and-done players in Division I basketball is an example of the problem. Kids today have been raised in a microwave era. They’re used to 15-second commercials on the radio. They expect results immediately. A phone call takes too long. Even texting has begun to slide, in favor of faster ways to communicate. Yeah, texting is too slow!

Kids today want results NOW! Incoming Freshman expect to play on the big stage the very first year. They don’t realize that there are three classes of players ahead of them, or if they do, they don’t care. The cult of personality has led these kids to believe they are the best at what they do, and they should be in the competition the minute they join the team.

This is a huge contrast to what we used to see in sports. By example, during the successful run by the Salthawk Football Team, players expected to wait their turn. They didn’t just sit back and expect to be on the field. They worked their butts off in the weight room, on the practice field, and in the JV games. They knew one thing though, their time would come because:

I know, that’s nothing fancy. In fact, it’s not all that an original of a quote. In a way, it’s kind of boring, echoing the Puritan work-ethic. No glamor, shiny baubles, or immediate results. Just lots of sweat, patience, and more sweat.

But this was the attitude of the players, what was expected by the coaches, and what was exhorted by the parents. As one, we anticipated that it would take time to rise to the top of the depth-chart. And you got there by hard work while doing your time on the sidelines.

Those scrawny kids that suited up for the Freshman games on Monday afternoons worked hard. They kept working until they earned the opportunity to play on the JV team on Monday nights. No huge crowds. No radio coverage. No articles in the newspaper. Just the opportunity to play football…the game they loved. Kids who didn’t have the work ethic went on to other pursuits. But after three years of hard work, dedication, and a single-minded approach to improvement, those same scrawny kids had grown into the players that the packed stadium cheered for under the Friday night lights. The radio announcers called their names. The newspaper contained articles about these gridiron competitors. And the younger kids looked up to these guys and vowed to work even harder to earn their place on the field on Friday nights.

There was both an understanding and an expectation that hard work, dedication to the team, and a long-term commitment were required. Nobody was fast-tracked. Nobody got to cut corners. The weight room was where champions were made. Everyone understood that the offense won games, but the defense won championships. And every player understood that it took time to get to show your stuff. And when your time came, not only were you ready, but you weren’t a showboat. You did your job. You listened to your coaches. You supported the team with any little bit that you could contribute. And you didn’t just live with it, you accepted your role enthusiastically. You were a Salthawk football player, and you had a role, just like every other player on the team.

The triple option offense that the Salthawks ran didn’t require the best athletes, but it did require the type of athlete that is in the best shape possible. It required linemen who could block down the line with both strength and speed. It required running backs who could not only pound the ball up the middle, but could turn up field and run like crazy. It required receivers and ends who were willing to do their part blocking without a lot of glory. The defense had a simple goal too…ensure the shut out. If the other team doesn’t score, then the Salthawks win. It didn’t matter that the offense could light up the scoreboard with 50, 60, or even 70 points. The defense had a core belief that they were vital to the success of the team, and they proved it with every stop on 4th down, with every interception, with every big tackle. But more importantly, they proved it on every down. They did the little things right. EVERY. DAMNED. TIME.

And the players worked hard during the season as well as the off-season. They bought into the system and they worked HARD.

But high school sports, and high school life, are a fickle thing. With the rapid succession of grades, the most you get with any group of kids is four years. In a system like the Salthawks had, the Varsity coaches really got two, maybe three years with their players. While an aura had been built, there were some dimmer spots. The players from the first few years of the dynasty had graduated, and with each passing year, something was lost in the translation to the new incoming class. Society was also changing over that decade-plus. Adults, let alone kids, started to expect faster results. In fact, the demand for more results for less effort had become something of an epidemic.

Unfortunately, the coaches also changed their approach. They abandoned their patience with players who weren’t flashy in practice. They put younger players onto the field before they were ready. They stopped honoring the tradition that had worked in favor of the hope for quick results. And it failed. The Salthawks were defeated in the State Championship game, in a large part because the younger players didn’t have enough heart, nor experience, to defeat their opponents. The next year the team failed to make the championship. Although riddled with injuries, the year wasn’t dramatically more difficult than other years from that perspective. It’s the reason that everyone talks about, but I see a deeper connection to the lack of player leadership, diminished dedication to hard work, and a lack of toughness. This year was similar. Injuries caused some hiccups during the season, but the team had moments of brilliance, and they made it to the State Championship game. Unfortunately, they appeared to lack the leadership from seasoned veterans to get them past their opponents.

As we discussed it further, my son and I came to the conclusion that there are two ways this team can go. They can continue to play the flashy kids, with tons of potential. The results may be good, but they may not be. On the other hand, every player could be given enough time to develop physically and mentally to the point where they are the best player they can be. We both believe that this will lead to vastly more long-term success, just like it has previously.

Of course, I’m not a football coach, and my son isn’t there yet. But I believe that in the future he will be back on the sidelines, this time with a clipboard instead of a helmet. I absolutely believe that he’ll bring an expectation for the same work ethic that he has. And when he does, I’m certain that his teams will have immense success.

I just hope it’s not too late.