Years and years ago in college, I worked in a bar as a bouncer and a line cook. The place was dirty, and our checks bounced every other week. But, like so many dive bars, the people were cool, and the place became like a second home. I was slinging wings and cheese fries in the early evening, then looking for fake IDs at night. However, that life was unsustainable, and once I was done with college, I called it quits working on the bar scene.
Fast forward about a decade, I saw a local restaurant (with a fantastic beer selection) hiring. It was the summer, the work paid ok, and it had some nice perks like heavily discounted fantastic beer. I applied, not very hopeful about getting a job since it had been over ten years since I worked in the kitchen. But, to my surprise, I was hired immediately. Here I thought my superior resume got me in the door when I should have smelled something fishy. They were desperate for line cooks because this place was busy. It seemed like the ticket printer never stopped. I would hear that printer noise at home for months after I started. It became apparent that I was pretty rusty and had to relearn fast if I wanted to keep up.
You may be wondering why the blog title picture is a bear. A show on Hulu that has become insanely popular is called The Bear. Maybe you are already familiar with it. It's about a world-renowned chef who takes over his dead brother’s struggling beef sandwich shop. One of the reasons the show has become so popular is its deep dive into the culture of the back of the restaurant, complete with all the yelling, joking, sweat, and anxiety. For those not familiar with the environment, it looks captivating. For those in the know, it can trigger PTSD. Granted, the show goes a little overboard for dramatic effect, but it’s closer to reality than not.
The show got me thinking about everything I have learned working the line that applies to being an athletic director. In general, I have come to realize that there are many life lessons and skills I learned working in a bar. There is no better training than being a bouncer if you want to learn how to observe. I could (and might) write a whole blog just on that.
Anyway, here are the lessons the line taught me about being an AD.
There is no such thing as over-communication.
The kitchen uses another language most people are not familiar with. For example, “I need three bacos all day,” would refer to three bacon burgers in total. At any moment, you will hear someone yelling behind (careful, someone is behind you). Corner means someone is coming around the corner. Sharp means someone is holding a knife. Hot means that there is a pot or tray that will burn pretty bad if you touch it. Heard is what you say when someone asks you to do something. If you ask someone to do something and they don’t respond with heard, you cannot assume they heard it. Yell at them again louder until you get a response.
Despite all the yelling and chaos in the kitchen, the constant communication keeps everything running like a fine-tuned machine. Accidents, drops, and spills happen as soon as someone doesn’t say something. Saying heard a couple of hundred times a shift can be tedious and cumbersome, but worse is when a whole ticket's worth of food is ruined because someone did not take the time to ensure they were heard.
Scheduling and emails are no different. While you don’t want to spam your parents’ inbox, they need to be in the loop as much as possible. Using things like TeamSnap can make communication easier. Never assume our parents (or school) know what’s going on. Send some type of communication explicitly stating whatever is going on to the appropriate channels. And make sure they acknowledge your communication. Heard? Communication is also paramount with your coaches. Simply forgetting to update them on a game time or practice will be taken as a personal offense. They have to know everything that is going on. It will help you, the athletic director, because they will feel empowered to answer more parent questions and not send everything up the chain of command (you).
Predict what your people need ahead of time and have a solution ready.
Even though I can work most jobs on the line, my station is the fry area. While the fry station may seem pretty simple, it is deceptively involved. One person is responsible for dropping all the sides and most appetizers, breading and dropping the chicken, and coordinating all the setups for those foods. Plus, the fry person must monitor the number of sides and pre-dropping them so that no one is waiting for fries, tater tots, and chips. You can’t have a ten-dollar burger waiting for a dollar’s worth of fires. When an entrée like meatloaf gets rung in, those are garnished with fried onion strings, and they never seem to remind you to cook more until they are all out. Keeping an eye on the tickets and making a steady supply ahead of time saves ticket time and the patron's patience.
One of the main jobs of the athletic director is predicting what your coaches need before they even realize they need it. Taking care of all the minutia so they can focus on coaching makes their life much easier. A coach that can focus on coaching is a happy coach, and a happy coach will return next season. Setting up communication systems, signups, rosters, ref fees, end-of-the-year party supplies, etc., is all on the list. The more things you can take off the coach's plate, the better they will feel and the better they will coach.
Organization is paramount
We have ten different wing sauces. I stack the sauce bowls in a particular order. I don’t even have to think about where which sauce bowl is; I can just grab and go. My station is organized, so I don't have to move too far to get what I need. I have backups prepared in the coolers and the walk-in cooler. Besides being the right thing to do for following sanitation guidelines, I am meticulous about keeping my station clean. That helps keep me organized, especially when the tickets keep rolling in without an end in sight. A dirty, disorganized station during a rush can be the breaking point for a chef to simply walk off the line and quit. I've seen it before.
The amount of communication that you are responsible for is tremendous. Having an organized system to put out all the little fires is not just necessary; it's required. The simple act of knowing where your information is is the number one stress reducer. Calendars become your best friend. Keeping your physical and digital workspace organized makes your life much easier. Like Russian nesting dolls, having folders helps a lot in the digital realm. I’m not bad at this on my desktop, but I need to get better at this with my emails.
Albert Einstein famously had a messy desk. His quote to excuse his untidiness was, “if a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” As athletic directors, we never have empty desks, and they can quickly turn to complete clutter. We have to become masters of compartmentalization. We must juggle multiple sports, coaches, rosters, and schedules at all times. While Albert Einstein was brilliant, Athletic directors don't have to be. We just have to be organized. We are doing our job correctly by enabling our coach's brilliance to shine through.