Inspire Me (September 2008)

True stories, quotes and information on inspiration, leadership and kindness to provide hope and direction in your life.


By Ben Malcolmson
USCRipsIt
PeteCarroll.com

On Sept. 4, 1994, the New York Jets traveled to Buffalo and beat the Bills, 23-3.

Oddly enough, that game’s significance lives on today and into eternity at USC — in a glistening Heritage Hall, in the founding philosophies of the USC football program and in the heart and mind of Coach Pete Carroll.

It was that game — that seemingly any-given-Sunday game — that eventually birthed Carroll’s “Win Forever” mantra, which has now become the blood that pumps through the Trojans and has driven the program to unprecedented triumphs.

“After the game I went back into the stadium before we got on the buses and looked around,” recalled Carroll, who was in his first year as Jets head coach that season. “On the wall, the Bills had documented their division championships year after year after year. Even though they didn’t win the world championship, they won the division for years and years and just showed great consistency.”

The Bills won five AFC East division titles in a six year span from 1988 to 1993, and with each division championship proudly displayed above that tunnel, Carroll saw the writing on the wall.

“I remembered thinking, that’s what it means to really be successful, showing you can maintain success over a long period of time,” Carroll said. “Looking back now, that’s when I decided that I wanted the team I coached to Win Forever.”

He says it with such gumption that you almost brush it off as another motivational tool. But it’s much bigger than that.

Try and rationalize it, and it’s just not possible.

Attempt to picture it, and nothing comes up.

Sit and dwell on it, and the phrase gives you goose bumps.

How can you possibly do something forever? Much less Win… Forever?

Humans have a difficult time grasping eternity. It’s probably because life works in myopic segments. Go to work today, pay the next bill, plan the next weekend.

But doing something forever?

Doing something well forever?

It just doesn’t compute.

“It makes perfect sense to me,” Carroll says with a shrug.

Maybe it’s because Carroll and his mantra are so ballsy, so resolute, so downright ludicrous that you want to believe him. As the saying goes, a crazy person doesn’t think he’s crazy, but now you’re starting to think you’re crazy for not believing someone so soundly sure of himself.

History also helps that cause.

In Carroll’s seven years at USC, the Trojans have gone 76-14, been to six BCS bowl games, won two national championships and produced 30 All-American first-teamers.

And then there are the conference titles and season finishes.

USC has had a stranglehold on the Pac-10 this millennium, winning the conference each of the last six seasons. Before the current Trojan reign, no team had ever won more than four in a row, and that’s dating back to 1916. Yes, 1916.

The Trojans also have a string of six straight AP top-4 finishes. In the span that the Trojans have remained a constant in the top-4, 11 other teams have come and gone and only four programs have appeared more than once.

The consistency is exactly what Carroll means when he says Win Forever.

“That really solidifies the fact that you’re a winner and your program’s a winner,” he said. “It’s the over-arching vision of the program, to show that we can win over a long period of time.”

But the stats and accolades only play a small fraction of the grander picture. The philosophy is bigger than the past, and a whole lot more significant than the next win.

“Trophies are nice, but we want to Win Forever,” said Carroll, who admittedly has never worn his championship rings and whose office doesn’t feature a single trophy. He often gives away the coach-of-the-year plaques and individual awards he receives.

Winning forever is much more than winning next Saturday’s game. It’s about maximizing the opportunities in front of you, Carroll says, so that each player can become the best he can be and each team can achieve its fullest potential.

“Of course we want to win every game, but winning forever is simply realizing your potential and making yourself as good as you can be,” Carroll said. “Realizing that is a tremendous accomplishment, whether it’s football or in life.”

“Win Forever” has already trickled down into the USC football program. Carroll mentions the phrase — with animated zeal, emphasizing “forever” — every once in a while during team meetings. The eternality part of the phrase plays out in the weight room and on the practice field every day, when players focus on the long-term benefits and consequences of each little action, habit and exercise.

That’s the interesting thing about the philosophy — to accomplish the grand, you have to focus on the small. To exist in the eternal perspective, you have to live in the moment.

Each practice takes on utmost importance. Each strength and conditioning workout carries significant weight. They’re all monumental, yet none more valuable than another.

And it goes to even more minute scales than that. Each repetition of each drill at practice means everything, because you can’t get to forever without right now.

Win Forever has caught fire in Carroll’s heart and mind so much that it’s become a part of who he is. He mentions it at nearly all of his speaking engagements and drops the phrase to whoever will listen. Win Forever has become truth and reality in his life inside and outside of football.

“The best way to advance something is to live it out, in everything you do,” Carroll said. “So that’s what I’ve done.”

It’s also become a part of who the Trojans are.

The team has won 74 of its last 83 games. The Trojans essentially know nothing but BCS bowls. The last six PAC-10 championship trophies sit in Heritage Hall.

And there’s no end in sight.

“It’s what we’re all about,” Carroll says, as a grin rises on his face. “Let’s Win Forever.”


Midnight Phone Call - POWERFUL STORY - Please Read

We all know what it's like to get that phone call in the middle of the night. This night's call was no different. Jerking up to the ringing summons, I focused on the red illuminated numbers of my clock. Midnight. Panicky thoughts filled my sleep-dazed mind as I grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?"

My heart pounded; I gripped the phone tighter and eyed my husband, who was now turning to face my side of the bed.

"Mama?" I could hardly hear the whisper over the static. But my thoughts immediately went to my daughter. When the desperate sound of a young crying voice became clearer on the line, I grabbed for my husband and squeezed his wrist.

"Mama, I know it's late, but don't...don't say anything, until I finish. And before you ask, yes, I've been drinking. I nearly ran off the road a few miles back, and..."

I drew in a sharp shallow breath, released my husband and pressed my hand against my forehead. Sleep still fogged my mind, and I attempted to fight back the panic. Something wasn't right.

"And I got so scared. All I could think about was how it would hurt you if a policeman came to your door and said I'd been killed. I want...to come home. I know running away was wrong. I know you've been worried sick. I should have called you days ago, but I was afraid...afraid..."

Sobs of deep-felt emotion flowed from the receiver and poured into my heart. Immediately I pictured my daughter's face in my mind and my fogged senses seemed to clear. "I think--"

"No! Please let me finish! Please!" She pleaded, not so much in anger but in desperation.

I paused and tried to think of what to say. Before I could go on, she continued, "I'm pregnant, Mama. I know I shouldn't be drinking now...especially now, but I'm scared, Mama. So scared!"

The voice broke again and I bit into my lip, feeling my own eyes fill with moisture. I looked at my husband who sat silently mouthing, "Who is it?"

I shook my head and when I didn't answer, he jumped up and left the room, returning seconds later with the portable phone held to his ear.

She must have heard the click in the line because she continued, "Are you still there? Please don't hang up on me! I need you. I feel so alone."

I clutched the phone and stared at my husband, seeking guidance. "I'm here, I wouldn't hang up," I said.

"I know I should have told you, Mama. But when we talk, you just keep telling me what I should do. You read all those pamphlets on how to talk about sex and all, but all you do is talk. You
don't listen to me. You never let me tell you how I feel. It is as if my feelings aren't important. Because you're my mother, you think you have all the answers. But sometimes I don't need
answers. I just want someone to listen."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and stared at the how-to-talk-to-your-kids pamphlets scattered on my nightstand. "I'm listening," I whispered.

"You know, back there on the road, after I got the car under control, I started thinking about the baby and taking care of it. Then I saw this phone booth and it was as if I could hear you preaching about people shouldn't drink and drive. So I called a taxi. I want to come home."

"That's good, Honey," I said as relief filled my chest. My husband came closer, sat down beside me and laced his fingers through mine. I knew from his touch that he thought I was doing and saying the right thing.

"But you know, I think I can drive now."

"No!" I snapped. My muscles stiffened, and I tightened the clasp on my husband's hand. "Please, wait for the taxi. Don't hang up on me until the taxi gets there."

"I just want to come home, Mama."

"I know. But do this for your mama. Wait for the taxi, please."

I listened to the silence in fear. When I didn't hear her answer, I bit into my lip and closed my eyes. Somehow I had to stop her from driving.

There's the taxi, now."

Only when I heard someone in the background asking about a Yellow Cab did I feel my tension easing.

"I'm coming home, Mama." There was a click and the phone went silent.

Moving from the bed with tears forming in my eyes, I walked out into the hall and went to stand in my sixteen-year-old daughter's room. The dark silence hung thick. My husband came from behind,
wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on the top of my head.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks. "We have to learn to listen," I said.

He pulled me around to face him. "We'll learn. You'll see." Then he took me into his arms, and I buried my head in his shoulder.

I let him hold me for several moments, then I pulled back and stared back at the bed. He studied me for a second, then asked, "Do you think she'll ever know she dialed the wrong number?"

I looked at our sleeping daughter, then back at him. "Maybe it wasn't such a wrong number."

"Mom, Dad, what are you doing?" The muffled young voice came from under the covers. I walked over to my daughter, who now sat up staring into the darkness. "We're practicing," I answered.

"Practicing what?" she mumbled and laid back on the mattress, her eyes already closed in slumber.

"Listening," I whispered, and brushed a hand over her cheek.


Time Gets Better With Age

I've learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sings "Silent Night".
Age 5

I've learned that our dog doesn't want to eat my broccoli either.
Age 7

I've learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back.
Age 9

I've learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again.
Age 12

I've learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.
Age 14

I've learned that although it's hard to admit it, I'm secretly glad my parents are strict with me.
Age 15

I've learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.
Age 24

I've learned that brushing my child's hair is one of life's great pleasures.
Age 26

I've learned that wherever I go, the world's worst drivers have followed me there.
Age 29

I've learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.
Age 30

I've learned that there are people who love you dearly but just don't know how to show it.
Age 42

I've learned that you can make some one's day by simply sending them a little note.
Age 44

I've learned that the greater a person's sense of guilt, the greater his or her need to cast blame on others.
Age 46

I've learned that children and grandparents are natural allies.
Age 47

I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.
Age 48

I've learned that singing "Amazing Grace" can lift my spirits for hours.
Age 49

I've learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone.
Age 50

I've learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.
Age 51

I've learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth a medicine cabinet full of pills.
Age 52

I've learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.
Age 53

I've learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.
Age 58

I've learned that if you want to do something positive for your children, work to improve your marriage.
Age 61

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.
Age 62

I've learned that you shouldn't go through life with a catchers mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.
Age 64

I've learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.
Age 65

I've learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision.
Age 66

I've learned that everyone can use a prayer.
Age 72

I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one.
Age 82

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch-holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.
Age 90

I've learned that I still have a lot to learn.
Age 92

 



 
 
   
 
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