When ‘A’ Players Make ‘B’ Teams

photo by .mw

photo by .mw

A few days ago we saw what it means to be the leader of a team and Alberto Contador clearly wasn’t it.

Today provided us another good lesson, compliments of Messr. Contador.  He was riding comfortably behind two rival challengers and one of his teammates who also happened to be contending for a podium finish.  In the next frame, Contador stands on his pedals and tries to break away.  The two rival contenders chased him down, but his teammate did not.

Ultimately, Contador may have knocked his teammate out of a top three result and may have cost his team a chance at sweeping the podium for the first time in 85 years.  All for a shot at proving his strength (though he was chased down) or to gain an additional ten seconds, at best, on his rivals over the course of the final of the mile climb (this would have been easily made up downhill).

There was no point.

This is a clear example of when having an ‘A’ player on your team actually makes your team weaker. In a business setting this may be the star who doesn’t communicate, doesn’t allow others the opportunity to shine or throws his teammates under the bus in external situations.

His results may be stellar, but the team’s cumulative results decrease when he’s added to the team.

Don’t get so blinded by the seemingly shooting star that you lose sight of your collective team’s performance.  We often start to blame the others for being inferior.  In reality, we’re promoting bad behaviors, poor values and deteriorating the morale on our team.

‘Stars’ are great and we should all be so lucky to have them, but if they don’t play well with others then what good are they?

Note: I believe we oversimplify when we see business people in a caste view.  The rankings are fluid.   ‘A’ players don’t exist independently of an organization.  And who you’d view as a ‘B’ or a ‘C’ player on paper could be enormously valuable and raise a level or two on your team. More on that here.

To Be A Leader, Be A Teammate

Lance Armstrong’s reemergence at the Tour de France has created an interesting plot line.  Namely, who leads a team with two leaders?

Believe it or not, cycling is a team sport.  It takes several unselfish teammates, called domestiques, who are willing to do more than their fair share of work in order to help someone else get the glory.

Most teams, therefore, are set up to have one acknowledged leader who has an opportunity to win the race and for whom everyone else protects and works.  Lance, however, joined a team that had the winner of the 2006 Tour de France and arguably the strongest rider in the world today, Alberto Contador.

Last Friday was a day the rift in the team became publicly known.  The team’s game plan had been to control the tempo of the first big climbs by riding out in front and doing the hard work.  Then with a couple miles to go Contador attacked Lance and his teammates to recapture a few seconds and leapfrog Lance by two seconds in the overall standings.

After the race everyone from Lance to the other Astana teammates to the race director agreed that Contador’s attack wasn’t part of the plan.  Lance, to his credit, said that his job right now was to the team and he stayed with the pack to ensure that no attacks from major competitors were forthcoming.

photo by ._SantiMB.

photo by ._SantiMB.

While arguments can be made that it was a shrewd move from a strong rider, it’s a team sport and a repeated game.  There are two weeks left and Contador will need his team to help him if he stands any shot of winning.

So to break from the team plan in order to put himself in a better position made it known where his priorities lie.  It’s all about him, not the team.

A leader and a team make one another better.  It’s a symbiotic relationship where both fail without the other.

Sometimes in order to lead you have to hold yourself back and pull your teammates with you.  Other times they will be pulling you.  But you can be sure that when your motivation is individual glory and you pay no heed to the effort they’ve put in on your behalf that they will find it far more difficult to go to that well again.  They will start asking themselves what’s in it for them?  They’ll need to know that you have their back just as they always have theirs.

To lead a team give your team what you want in return.  You’re not a team leader after all if nobody is following.

Living to Ride Part II

Regrettably, I forgot the most important lesson learned, or remembered, from cycling.

  1. Focus on where you want to go, not the obstacles. Once you fixate on a rock, pothole or asphalt seam you’re sure to ride directly at it.  The lesson is to focus on the clear path so you navigate through the danger easily.  The obstacles will always be there, but if you choose not to focus on them they’ll pass harmlessly by.

This reminds me of a quote I read once from a sailor in the Whitbread Round the World Race.  Commenting on the icebergs around Cape Horn (paraphrasing), “We really have to navigate carefully during the day as the icebergs are all over the place.  Fortunately, they disappear at night.”

Living to Ride, Riding to Live

Phew… it’s a few weeks since I’ve written.  In the meantime (in order of occurrence, not importance), I’ve parted ways with my former employer, gotten married and become hopelessly addicted to cycling.

While only riding for three months now, I’ve met a ton of great people and rekindled the Kaizen spirit within that had gone dormant for a bit.  As if that’s not enough to get one addicted it’s also helped me focus in on what really matters in my life.  A few examples:

  1. Having a team makes you better. Riding alone means you’re constantly working.  Constantly grinding.  There are no breaks.  Having a team around you gives you a chance to play off of each others strengths to ride longer, ride faster and help push each other to improve.  In my case, I owe a lot to the great riders I’ve recently met.  Always quick to encourage and coach, by virtue of their experience and fitness, they’ve also pushed me to run at speeds and mileage I wouldn’t have otherwise considered.
  2. Leading is hard, but worth the payoff. Riding out front means you’re working harder, but it also means that you’re doing your part to help others.  The unspoken appreciation for the job your doing is enough.  You’ve given up yourself and earn the respect of your fellow riders.  And, you’ve also improved yourself by driving yourself harder than you would if you were in the back of the pack.  It’s a win-win all the way around.
  3. Your mind often prevents your best accomplishments. I’ve learned to listen to my body rather than that rabid, junkyard dog barking upstairs.  Rather than think of how far or how fast I’ve ridden and assume I should be tired, I let my legs tell me that.  Likewise, I’ve always been the one to self-edit my ideas or stop myself from taking professional risks because that junkyard dog is smart enough to see the downsides.  Let the real obstacles stop you.  Don’t stop yourself.
  4. Focus on what you can control. You can’t control the hill in front of you or the wind in your face, but you can shift gears so that you keep your steady rhythm and keep pushing forward.  Thinking about your form, your cadence and really pulling through every cycle improves your (or at least my) speed and makes me a better rider all around.  Knowing how to get the most out of each stroke helps to get me over Olde Stage when the wind is in my face, but it also helps me pick up the pace and be a better leader on the speedway of Highway 36.
  5. Expect the unexpected and stay flexible. Cars are everywhere and not all drivers are nice (random observation: bigger the vehicle, the bigger the asshole behind the wheel…usually, though sports cars and BMWs are the exception that prove the rule - but that’s another topic).  Most drivers are courteous and give a little extra room, but you’ll encounter those who have no vision beyond their own self-interests and the hood of their jacked up GMC Yukon.  They’ll honk, swerve or ignore you completely.  You have to expect that and proactively anticipate accordingly.  Then you have to let it go.  It’s not like you can catch them.
  6. Live the moment. You can cover a lot of ground on a bike, but you cover it at a pace where you can actually take note of what you miss when you zoom by in a car.  A dilapidated red barn, steep canyon walls, the flowing of the river.  There’s a lot of stuff out there that we’d enjoy but we often miss it because we’re too focused on the destination rather than the journey.

Anyhow, gotta go.  I haven’t been on the bike all day and I’m getting the shakes.