think?

“In our society sometimes it’s hard to come to grips with filling a role instead of trying to be a superstar,” says Jordan. A superstar’s talent can win games, but it’s teamwork that wins championships.

Coach John Wooden claims he was tactically and strategically average. So how did he win ten national championships? One of the main reasons, he tells us, is because he was good at getting players to fill roles as part of a team. “I believe, for example, I could have made Kareem [Abdul-Jabbar] the greatest scorer in college history. I could have done that by developing the team around that ability of his. Would we have won three national championships while he was at UCLA? Never.”

In the fixed mindset, athletes want to validate their talent. This means acting like a superstar, not “just” a team member. But, as with Pedro Martinez, this mindset works against the important victories they want to achieve.

A telling tale is the story of Patrick Ewing, who could have been a basketball champion. The year Ewing was a draft pick—by far the most exciting pick of the year—the Knicks won the lottery and to their joy got to select Ewing for their team. They now had “twin towers,” the seven-foot Ewing and the seven-foot Bill Cartwright, their high-scoring center. They had a chance to do it all.

They just needed Ewing to be the power forward. He wasn’t happy with that. Center is the star position. And maybe he wasn’t sure he could hit the outside shots that a power forward has to hit. What if he had really given his all to learn that position? (Alex Rodriguez, the best shortstop in baseball, agreed to play third base when he joined the Yankees. He had to retrain himself and, for a while, he wasn’t all he had been.) Instead, Cartwright was sent to the Bulls, and Ewing’s Knicks never won a championship.

Then there is the tale of the football player Keyshawn Johnson, another immensely talented player who was devoted to validating his own greatness. When asked before a game how he compared to a star player on the opposing team, he replied, “You’re trying to compare a flashlight to a star. Flashlights only last so long. A star is in the sky forever.”

Was he a team player? “I am a team player, but I’m an individual first.… I have to be the No. 1 guy with the football. Not No. 2 or No. 3. If I’m not the No. 1 guy, I’m no good to you. I can’t really help you.” What does that mean? For his definition of team player, Johnson was traded by the Jets, and, after that, deactivated by the Tampa Bay Buccaneers.

I’ve noticed an interesting thing. When some star players are interviewed after a game, they say we. They are part of the team and they think of themselves that way. When others are interviewedy say I and they refer to their teammates as something apart from themselves—as people who are privileged to participate in their greatness.

Every Sport Is a Team Sport

You know, just about every sport is in some sense a team sport. No one does it alone. Even in individual sports, like tennis or golf, great athletes have a team—coaches, trainers, caddies, managers, mentors. This really hit me when I read about Diana Nyad, the woman who holds the world’s record for open-water swimming. What could be more of a lone sport than swimming? All right, maybe you need a little rowboat to follow you and make sure you’re okay.

When Nyad hatched her plan, the open-water swimming record for both men and women was sixty miles. She wanted to swim one hundred. After months of arduous training, she was ready. But with her went a team of guides (for measuring the winds and the current, and watching for obstacles), divers (looking for sharks), NASA experts (for guidance on nutrition and endurance—she needed eleven hundred calories per hour and she lost twenty-nine pounds on the trip!), and trainers who talked her through uncontrollable shivers, nausea, hallucinations, and despair. Her new record—102.5 miles—stands to this day. It is her name in the record books, but it took fifty- one other people to do it.

HEARING THE MINDSETS

You can already hear the mindsets in young athletes. Listen for them.

It’s 2004. Iciss Tillis is a college basketball star, a six-foot-five forward for the Duke University women’s basketball team. She has a picture of her father, James “Quick” Tillis, taped to her locker as a motivator. “But the picture is not a tribute,” says sportswriter Viv Bernstein. “It is a reminder of all Tillis hopes she will never be.”

Quick Tillis was a contender in the 1980s. In ’81, he boxed for the world heavyweight title; in ’85, he was in the movie The Color Purple (as a boxer); and in ’86, he was the first boxer to go the distance (ten rounds) with Mike Tyson. But he never made it to the top.

Iciss Tillis, who is a senior, says, “This is the year to win a national championship. I just feel like I’d be such a failure …[I’d] feel like I’m regressing back and I’m going to end up like my dad: a nobody.”

Uh-oh, it’s the somebody–nobody syndrome. If I win, I’ll be somebody; if I lose I’ll be nobody.

Tillis’s anger at her father may be justified—he abandoned her as a child. But this thinking is getting in her way. “Perhaps nobody else has that combination of size, skill, quickness, and vision in the women’s college game,” says Bernstein. “Yet few would rate Tillis ahead of the top two players in the country: Connecticut’s Diana Taurasi and [Duke’s Alana] Beard.” Tillis’s performance often fails to match her ability.

She’s frustrated that people have high expectations for her and want her to play better. “I feel like I have to come out and have a triple-double [double digits in points scored, rebounds, and assists], dunk the ball over-the- head 360 [leave your feet, turn completely around in the air, and slam the ball into the basket] and maybe people will be like, ‘Oh, she not that bad.’ ”

I don’this tk people want the impossible. I think they just want to see her use her wonderful talent to the utmost. I think they want her to develop the skills she needs to reach her goals.

Worrying about being a nobody is not the mindset that motivates and sustains champions. (Hard as it is, perhaps Tillis should admire the fact that her father went for it, instead of being contemptuous that he didn’t quite make it.) Somebodies are not determined by whether they won or lost. Somebodies are people who go for it with all they have. If you go for it with all you have, Iciss Tillis—not just in the games, but in practice too—you will already be a somebody.

Here’s the other mindset. It’s six-foot-three Candace Parker, then a seventeen-year-old senior at Naperville Central High near Chicago, who was going to Tennessee to play for the Lady Vols and their great coach, Pat Summitt.

Candace has a very different father from Iciss, a dad who is teaching her a different lesson: “If you work hard at something, you get out what you put in.”

Several years before, when he was coach of her team, her dad lost his cool with her during a tournament game. She was not going for the rebounds, she was shooting lazy shots from the outside instead of using her height near the basket, and she was not exerting herself on defense. “Now let’s go out and try harder!” So what happened? She went out and scored twenty points in the second half, and had ten rebounds. They blew the other team away. “He lit a fire under me. And I knew he was right.”

Candace lights the same fire under herself now. Rather than being content to be a star, she looks to improve all the time. When she returned from knee surgery, she knew what she needed to work on—her timing, nerves, and wind. When her three-point shot went bad, she asked her father to come to the gym to work on it with her. “Whether it be in basketball or everyday life,” she says, “nothing is promised.”

Only weeks later, the mindset prophecies were already coming true. Two things happened. One, sadly, is that Tillis’s team was knocked out of the championship. The other was that Candace Parker became the first woman ever to win the basketball dunking championship—against five men.

Character, heart, the mind of a champion. It’s what makes great athletes and it’s what comes from the growth mindset with its focus on self-development, self-motivation, and responsibility.

Even though the finest athletes are wildly competitive and want to be the best, greatness does not come from the ego of the fixed mindset, with its somebody–nobody syndrome. Many athletes with the fixed mindset may have been “naturals”—but you know what? As John Wooden says, we can’t remember most of them.

Grow Your Mindset

• Are there sports you always assumed you’re bad at? Well, maybe you are, but then maybe you aren’t. It’s

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