Those of you who are familiar with the magnificent physical specimen that I have become will find this difficult to believe, but in high school I was a band geek. That’s right. Conestoga Valley High School, marching band, drum section. While the cool guys were running up and down the field getting touchdowns and girls, I was marching up and down the field in spats. Envious, aren’t you?
So being one of the drummers in the marching band was not exactly the glamor position. Unlike the quarterback and other players, I never felt particularly important to the team.
Until…
Coach Grimm – A True Leader
I’ll always remember the day that Art Grimm stopped in during band practice. Mr. Grimm was the football coach (great name for a football coach, isn’t it?), as well as being one of the finest leaders—and finest people—I’ve ever known. He was the king of the hill: the winning coach of a winning football team. Kind of like Coach Taylor on Friday Night Lights. So what in the world was Coach Grimm doing at our band practice? Here’s what he said:
“I just want you all to know what a difference you make to us during the game. You know, there are a lot of emotions that happen during the course of a football game, and whenever we need an extra boost, you guys are always there with just the right piece of music to lift us up. I notice it every week, and the players mention it to me all the time. I wanted to let you know that you’re a big reason we’re having such a good year, and I want to thank you for being such an important part of the team.”
It probably took less than a minute, and it was nearly forty years ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday.
In my work with leaders of organizations large and small, one question seems to come up consistently: How can I get more engagement from my team?
Team engagement. It’s a common challenge. If you, as a leader, want to know how to get it from your team, take a lesson from Coach Grimm.
People get excited when they feel like they're a part of something important. Don't you? Share on XPeople get excited when they feel like they’re a part of something important. Don’t you? The members of your team are no different. When was the last time you let them know—specifically—how they fit in to the big picture, and how important their contribution is to the ultimate success of the organization?
I was speaking at a sales meeting for a medical supply company. This company made just one product—a very specialized tool for treating blood clots. During this meeting, the company had a number of people giving presentations on sales, positioning, branding, etc. But then they brought out Tim. Tim was easily the worst—yet most powerful—speaker at the meeting. You see, Tim shouldn’t be alive. This company’s product saved his life. Tim was not an eloquent speaker, but he had an eloquent story. And then Tim’s wife came to the stage. Together, with tears flowing, they thanked the audience of sales people for being a part of the team that saved Tim’s life. By the time they finished, Tim and his wife were not the only people with tears in their eyes.
At that moment, each of those sales people had a renewed sense of engagement. They were no longer selling medical supplies; they were saving lives. When Coach Grimm spoke to us all those years ago, I was no longer just drumming in a marching band; I was helping to win football games.
As a leader, you know what the big picture is. Don’t keep it a secret. Not if you want true team engagement.
ShareJUN
2014
I remember Coach Grimm, and the sadness when he turned over the rains of the football team half way through my high school career. You are right, he made everybody feel special. I too was in the band. We always had an prominent spot in the stands, and cheered until we were horse. Your story is an important reminder that every piece of the puzzle is important, no matter how small.
Thanks for the comment, Ken. Those were the days, weren’t they? Sitting in the stands with the band, cheering on the Bucks!
We were at CV together. Your were a year ahead of me, but I was in the band too. I can’t say that I remember that specific incident, but I don’t doubt for a minute that it happened. Art Grimm was not only a great teacher and coach, but he was a family friend. I’m happy to see that you’ve experienced such success. With writing like this, I predict that will continue. Best wishes.
He was a good one, wasn’t he, Eric? Although I can’t say that Art was a family friend, my family and his did go to the same church, so I was able to interact with him outside of CV. He was, in my experience, always a man of decency and integrity (and a hell of a football coach!). That’s so cool that you were able to call him a family friend. So, as a fellow band member, I have to ask–do you still play?
Bill: It looks like I’m about twelve years too late for this, but I just came across this because I was looking for information Art Grimm, so I’ll add my comment anyway. Hope you get it. Three points.
(1) I was at CVHS at the same time (but a year or two behind you) and I was on those winning football teams and thought the world of Art Grimm. I reconnected thirty years after high school and wrote him a long letter about how special he had been in my life as an example of good leadership, so I was fascinated to see your similar characterization.
(2) I was a starter and co-captain on the football team and enjoyed all the attention that came with that (although my girlfriend and eventual wife came from MTHS). However, I always envied the drummers in the band and thought they were the coolest guys on and off the field—and I have written about that multiple times over the years. I especially loved the marching cadence, and as Art Grimm told you, the band was a huge emotional boost for players on the field and before and after the games. We should have gotten together back then to inform each other just how cool we really were! I still look for the drummers in any marching band I encounter, and it is the favorite part of any parade I see. So you were the cool dude all along!
(3) This is unrelated to the article, but I also knew your sister in high school, whom I won’t name because this is a public forum. I helped her get from class to class by pushing her wheelchair. She was so nice and always cheerful, but what I remember most was the fun she had when I’d take her up or down stairs. There were no elevators, so we made the stairs sort of a thrill ride, and she would laugh at the fun of it. I hope she is doing well. If you are so inclined, please contact me to let me know.