Coach Wooden and His Sayings of Wisdom
Swen Nater

I coached at Christian Heritage College, El Cajon, California. After my team won the national championship, I asked Coach Wooden if he would be the keynote speaker at the awards banquet. He agreed. I drove up to LA, picked him up, and arrived back in El Cajon with about two hours to spare before the event. We spent that time at my home. My family enjoyed having Coach there. He spoke with my daughters, asked them about school and, of course, teased them about having me as a father.

I let my ginormous black lab, Rambo in the house and, when he saw Coach, his tail began wagging profusely. He walked directly to him and placed his giant black head in Coach’s gentle hands. Coach lifted Rambo’s head, looked into his eyes, and talked to him in almost the same way he did to my children. Then Coach turned his eyes toward me and asked, “Swen, you don’t ever beat this dog do you?” I told him, “No, Coach. I don’t.” Then he said, “That’s good.” and then spewed out this penetrating nugget of truth.

There is nothing more powerful than gentleness.

Coach Wooden is well-known for axioms like the above. The internet is filled with lists of his favorite sayings and, recently, Neville L. Johnson published an entire book, Woodenisms, that contains precepts Coach used and was famous for. If you’ve ever spent an afternoon with him in his Encino den, you have undoubtedly heard many. Here are two more I heard first hand.

About to start writing the book on his teaching methods, I told Coach on the phone, I was not that confident because I knew little about the subject. He gave me courage when he told me not to worry because, in writing (which is like teaching), I would learn the subject. Then he hurled this maxim through the telephone line. 

If you want to learn something, teach it.

In his condo, we were watching a halftime show where a man was doing amazing tricks with the basketball. Coach fired this one across the room.  

Some people spend so much time learning the tricks of the trade, they forget to learn the trade.

It’s good to read those economical and rich words of truth for they are powerfully packaged nuggets of common sense about human nature and life. But proverbs that are read and not used are like tools in a locked and stored toolbox. An idle adage is like a genie in a lamp, a bell that is never rung, or song that is never sung. An axiom of truth was born to be used, released, and passed on so that it can live a full life.

But context and timing is everything. When a nail needs to be driven in, you need a hammer, not a screwdriver. And you need that hammer right then. Every truth must be used at exactly the right time, when the context is perfect, and the saying fits and can teach—just like Coach did when he was petting Rambo.

What makes axioms so powerful? Why do people often move to action when they receive the right one at the time it is needed? Consider this scenario. You and I are shopping at Costco, we come to the refrigerated section, and I point to the Jimmy Dean Sausage and tell you that you should buy it. You probably won’t just do what I say. But, if Jimmy Dean tapped you on the shoulder and said, “That stuff is the best. I put my name on it,” you’d probably load your cart with them. In the same way, when someone at the right moment calls on Benjamin Franklin, Abraham Lincoln, or even that prolific axiom author, Ann Onymous, to help make a point, that voice from a “credible third party” means so much more.

So, if you’re motivated to become a Maxim Master, a Proverb Provider, an Authority of Adages, or the Titan of Truisms, here’s a four-step plan. 

1. Read and Choose (Read them every day and pick one you think you can use that day.)
2. Write it Down (The best way to memorize something is to write it down.)
3. Rehearse (Look at the maxim several times a day.)
4. Use It (Coach always looked for an opportunity to use one of the tools from his tool box.)
I miss hearing Coach say those nuggets of truth like, “Be quick but don’t hurry.” And, I miss Rambo too.