Teammate, not coach

Snoop Dog and Martha are together in Milano at the Olympics. I saw them chatting about their experiences on the third hour of Today with Jenna and Sheinelle. 

They have an undeniable chemistry and I find them delightful to watch in conversation.They project an authentic, unironic friendship built upon a foundation of mutual appreciation, respect, and genuine affection. It had me thinking…where can I find myself a younger (or older) hip BFF  – preferably one who is famous and can take me to fun parties and events.

I’m accepting applications if you happen to know someone that fits the description 😉

In all seriousness though, February has been quite the month for inspiring stories on and off the field. From the Olympics to Super Bowl LX, it's been hard not to get swept up…and I am here for it.

While I’m not a die-hard sports fan, per se, I am a fan of sports writing and reporting. Especially long-form content that goes beyond the surface level, uncovers stories that transcend the boundaries of the arena, and taps into universal themes. 

Think: leadership, resilience, overcoming obstacles…basically catnip for someone like me who not only coached and motivated a sales organization for years, but also helps individuals tap into their own stories as a way to move beyond self-imposed blocks that keep them stuck.

Legendary sportscaster Howard Cosell is credited with saying  “Sports is human life in microcosm.”

And if you are of a certain age, you likely remember - by heart, no less - the opening to ABC-TV's Wide World of Sports:

Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sports... the thrill of victory... and the agony of defeat... the human drama of athletic competition...

The human drama. Yes. This!

Whether you’re an athlete, armchair coach, hockey mom, fair-weather fan, or just there for the snacks, you can find meaning and common ground in the struggles, sacrifices, celebrations and symbolism woven into the fabric of athletic competition. A hero’s journey if there ever was one.

Not surprisingly, I’m also a sucker for a good sports analogy. So when an article titled  “The Caregiver Playbook: How to Call the Right Play,” came across my feed, I clicked on it without hesitation.

After all, I’m in that season of life – navigating the uncomfortable terrain of parenting adult children and caring for an aging parent. It is both a privilege and a humbling, emotional journey. 

In an issue of this newsletter last June, I compared the experience to which seat we take in the car:

"When our kids were little, we were driving – buckle them in, chart the route, take the wheel, keep them safe. As they grew, we slid into the passenger seat – close enough to offer guidance, gently point out roadblocks, maybe hit the imaginary brakes now and then. But still very much in it.

Now, this new phase – this backseat living – is a whole vibe. There's wisdom here, yes, but also restraint. It's knowing when to stay quiet. When to gaze out the window. When to speak up. And when to just be there, visible and ready, but not necessarily needed in the moment."

I also gently explored how that might play out with regards to aging parents. 

“And with aging parents? The dynamic is even more delicate – and often more emotionally charged. It’s scary and sad to witness the beginnings of a role reversal, especially when you were raised to defer to them, to follow without questioning. I still feel the tug of that “good daughter” conditioning. And even when I know my perspective might now be more grounded in current realities than theirs, I feel the pull of those ingrained rules of engagement from my childhood.”

I read the aforementioned article, screen-shotted the following and promptly texted it to my sister:

(* From Gray Monster, a newsletter for people with parents)

The two of us, thankfully, are teammates – aligned and unified in our commitment to support and care for our mom. Sometimes we run the play together. Sometimes one of us calls an audible. And sometimes one of us has to step in as quarterback.

It was the idea that we THREE are teammates – me, my sister AND my mom – which blindsided me. 

We are conditioned from childhood to see our parents as the authority – the all-knowing, the decision-makers, the ones at the top of the hierarchy. That deference gets wired in early and doesn't just disappear when the roles begin to quietly shift. 

But "teammate" asks something different of me. It doesn't erase the reverence – she is still my mom – but it does invite me to see her as a full, fallible human being with her own fears, preferences, and blind spots. Just like me. 

Holding both of those things at once – the daughter who was raised to unquestionably respect, defer, and obey and the teammate who knows her own perspective has value – is uncomfortable. And also, I think, exactly right. A valuable perspective shift through which to filter my response to challenging conversations, uncomfortable situations and judgement calls. 

Over the last few weeks, I've found myself repeating “teammate not coach” as a mantra of sorts when I’m talking with my mom. 

When every ounce of my being wants to rush in and rescue, like, say for instance, find her a new plumber because she's overwhelmed with household issues and they're not responding fast enough for my liking – I silently speak “teammate not coach,” and instead ask something like “what would make this easier for you?”

We are fortunate that she's in good health, of sound mind and living independently. It won’t always be this way. And to stick with the metaphor, continuing our winning streak means getting clear on our game plan, running practice drills, knowing when to bring in special teams, when to take a knee and when to step into a bigger leadership role on the field.

And when the pressure is on and emotions (and/or ego) are driving the play, here's what I keep coming back to – wrapped in yet another string of sports metaphors:

• Breathe Before You Read the Field: Before reacting, create a pause. Even one slow breath can change what you see, and what you choose to do next.

  
  

• Play the Play, Not the Score: Tune out what's already happened or what's at stake. Your only job is the next right move.

  
  

• See It Before You Run It: Talk through the hard scenarios before they happen. When you and your teammates have an agreed-upon plan, you’re not making decisions under pressure. You’re running a play you already called.

  
  

I want to be clear: I'm not an expert in elder care or the sandwich generation experience. I'm in it, just like some of you. Learning as I go, drawing on what I know about mindset, energy management, and the power of choice, and figuring out the rest in real time.