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Don’t be a leader

When I was 13 years old something happened that, with the benefit of hindsight, was a life-changing event – and no, it wasn’t my first kiss. I was in the Scouts and we were camping on the coast near Morecambe. One day a football match was organised between our troop and another scout troop who were camped down the road. As we were walking to the game on a beautiful summer’s day with not a cloud in the sky our Scout Master, Mr Walsh, turned to me and casually said, “Steve, you’re captain for this match, make sure the lads give it their best shot and have a good time.” Now it might have sounded like a throw-away line from Mr Walsh (in fact I subsequently discovered he’d actually given it a great deal of thought), but to me this was to say the most surprising, earth shattering, joyous news. Suddenly without warning this had become the best day of my life. You see, unless you’ve been a 13-year-old football-mad boy, you might not get this. At that age, playing football was everything. That’s EVERYTHING. But being captain – that was everything plus one.

At the time England were still World Cup holders and my all-time hero was England captain Bobby Moore. If you’ll pardon the pun, more than anything else I wanted to be Moore. Now just like my hero I had been made captain of the side. Not only that, I played the same position as Bobby at the heart of defence. The only remaining difference between us was that he could read the game, time a tackle to perfection (who can forget his master class against Pelé’s Brazil in the 1970 World Cup?) and create a scoring chance from nothing with an inch-perfect 50-yard pass.

But I simply couldn’t do any of the things that Bobby could do. In fact, I couldn’t do most of the things the other 13-year-olds in my side appeared to do with ease. You see, although I might not admit it to my friends, deep down on the inside I’d come to the terrible conclusion that I’d never play for England. I knew this because I couldn’t even get into the school side. Not that I didn’t keep hoping that some miracle would take place. Perhaps, I told myself, I was just a late developer. Maybe, just maybe, I’d wake up one morning and suddenly be able to dribble like Best, shoot like Charlton and play ‘keepy up’ beyond three.¹ The only reason I made the Scouts side was that we were always short of numbers. Two legs were the only qualification you needed and it was OK if the two legs in question suffered from a lack of coordination, just as long as you could supply your own boots.

This is why, as we walked down that sun-speckled country lane all those years ago, I was on the one hand elated and on the other confused. I mean, I knew I wasn’t the absolute worst player in the team but I was far from the best (at least I never had the ultimate humiliation of being picked last from the line-up of usual suspects before a kick about). Why, totally out of the blue, would you pick me as captain? I came to the startling conclusion that Mr Walsh had seen something in me that I hadn’t, up until that moment, seen in myself. He’d seen my potential as a leader. He knew that the qualities that make an inspiring leader are very rarely just to do with being the best technically. As we approached the field selected as the venue for the match, which going by the smell had only very recently been vacated by a herd of cows – and you don’t even want to think about what the cows had vacated – I made a solemn vow that I wouldn’t let Mr Walsh, the team or myself down. Not only that, if this was to be my first, and possibly last, match as captain, I would lead by example. I might not be Bobby Moore, I might not be able to take his skills on to the pitch, but I could take his attitude and temperament on to the pitch. Although I was playing at the back I could lead from the front. I can’t even remember if we won but what I do remember is that after that match things changed. Forever.

It turned out Mr Walsh was right. I captained the team for every match from then on. That one seminal event went on to colour the rest of my life. Not only did it build a strong, unshakeable foundation of confidence, but from that day to this it made me unafraid to step forward and take the lead, not wait to be selected, in many other areas of my life and subsequent careers. I’ve seized every opportunity to lead with both hands. For me leadership isn’t a position, it’s a mindset. You see, what I came to realise in that mucky cowfield, and in the many other metaphorical mucky cowfields down the years since then, is that a leader is a dealer in hope. Even when it appears you are facing impossible odds, which frequently in life and work you are, the leader sees the light at the end of the tunnel and can get the team to glimpse it too. A true leader is a servant to the needs of the team. When Alexander the Great and his vast army were crossing the desert, they stopped for a rest only to discover they were down to their last cup of water. When the cup was offered first to Alexander, he took it and cast all of the water into the sand saying: “Until we can all drink no one drinks.”

“A true leader is a servant to the needs of the team.”

Another good definition of a leader is someone who has earned the right to have followers. Here’s something I came across concerning the characteristics of credible leaders:

• •They do what they say they will do. They keep their promises and follow through on their commitments.
• •Their actions are consistent with the wishes of the people they lead. They have a clear idea of what others value and what they can do.
• •They believe in the inherent self-worth of others.
• •They learn how to discover and communicate the shared values and visions that can form a common ground on which all can stand.
• •They are capable of making a difference in the lives of others – and liberating the leader in everyone.
• •They admit their mistakes. They realise that attempting to hide mistakes is much more damaging and erodes credibility. But when they admit a mistake, they do something about it.
• •They arouse optimistic feelings and enable their people to hold positive thoughts about the possibilities of success.
• •They create a climate for learning characterised by trust and openness.

So to remain rubbish at leading anything, including yourself, don’t try to resemble any of the above.

¹ ‘Keepy up’ – this is where you have to keep the football off the ground for as long as possible. According to Guinness World Records, the world record for football control belongs to Nikolai Kutsenko of Ukraine, who juggled a regulation soccer ball for 24½ hours non-stop with feet, legs and head, without the ball ever touching the ground. Beats my 30 seconds by a considerable distance.