P.J. Fleck

Pain and Purpose

February 9, 2011, was the day I lost my son, Colton, right after his birth due to complications with his heart and lungs. I was coaching at Rutgers under Greg Schiano at the time and was thankful that he allowed me to go back and forth to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia (CHOP) multiple times for testing on Colton prior to him being born. At one visit I received unexpected and devastating news. I was told that Colton would not live long after his birth and there wasn't much anyone could do about it. The news knocked the wind out of me. I literally couldn't breathe. I felt like I was suffocating from the heaviness of what I had just heard.

How could this be? How could he not make it? How come a doctor couldn't fix it? Where was God? I was filled with questions, confusion, and anger. I felt numb to life after the reality of the situation hit me that my son was going to die soon after being born. Then, when he was born, everything seemed fine. “Look … he's breathing,” I said with excitement and hope. “Is there anything we can do now to save him?” There was nothing they could do. After a few minutes on Earth, Colton James Fleck had passed away.

Those were some of the slowest, most numbing, and realest few minutes of my life. Holding your son as he takes his last breath changes you for the rest of your life, whether you're ready for it or not. I felt like my life was over. I didn't feel strong enough to overcome this tragedy. I wanted to give up, to quit and never revisit that time in my life. The grief stages had taken over my every move, mentally, physically, and emotionally. My thoughts were consumed by a cloud of darkness that seemed only to get darker with every passing day. It felt like the pain would never go away and time moved so slowly. Most of us have been in a very low place at some point in our lives. It’s okay to grieve, cry, and feel pain. After all, we are human beings with real feelings and emotions. I was there after Colton passed away, but thankfully there came a moment when my pain became the major part of my purpose.

Row the Boat

I decided I was not going to let his name or legacy ever fade away. I was never going to forget about him and act like it didn't happen. I wanted to come up with something that would keep Colton's name and memory alive forever. I wanted to move forward in a positive direction and use what happened to me to connect others in the future who might experience something similar. I wanted a powerful analogy and symbol that would demonstrate the core of who I was and the difference I wanted to make and honor Colton in the process.

I wanted to give my children something to live by, a lifestyle, a way of handling adversity, tragedy, triumph, failing, conquering, and doubting. I wanted to create something that gave back to the community I was coaching in, a charity of some sort that the community could rally behind. Finally, I wanted to make sure that when I did become a head coach, I could share my story with the team, staff, university, and community to connect people from all walks of life with a powerful message never to give up! So I had to come up with what I wanted the concept to be, how it would look, and how it would impact others during my life and career. I didn't know when I would become a head coach, but I knew I wanted to make a great impact on others when I did.

At Rutgers, Greg Schiano had a slogan, “Keep chopping,” from his cultural saying, “The Chop.” Take the axe and just keep hitting the mark over and over and over, and eventually the tree will fall. I really loved this concept, and still do to this day. I believe in fate and that everything happens for a reason, so when Colton took his last breath at CHOP, I asked myself, “Is this a coincidence? I think not.” I was inspired and compelled to create an overarching message that would guide my personal and professional life and the teams I would lead in the future.

I've always loved boats and water. They make me feel at peace. There is something about the tranquility of water that brings me to a special place mentally and emotionally. Being a teacher at heart, I love sharing simple, powerful lessons and always look for the simplest way to teach a life lesson to connect with my players. This led me to one of the most memorable nursery rhymes of all time, “Row, Row, Row Your Boat.” I realized it was time to row the boat!

An Opportunity to Row the Boat

Fast-forward to 2013. I was fortunate enough that an athletic director from Western Michigan University named Kathy Beauregard took a chance on me, believed in me, and made me the new head coach. At the time, I had just turned 32 and was coaching wide receivers for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in the NFL under Greg Schiano. I loved being back in the NFL but I couldn't resist the opportunity to lead my own program and team. I became the youngest head coach in the country in the same conference I played in. It was a perfect fit. WMU hadn't won a championship since 1988 and the only one before that was in 1966. It also had never been to a New Year's Six bowl, never beat a ranked team, never won a bowl game, and so on. It might not have seemed like a good job, but I felt it was perfect for me and a great opportunity to establish a brand-new culture to connect the past to the present.

So I took the job, and in the introductory press conference, I introduced Row the Boat for the first time. Not many people in my life even knew I had been coming up with this for two years and was ready to share it. Some told me I was crazy to blend my personal life with the football life. Back then, authenticity and vulnerability weren't seen as desirable characteristics in coaches. Row the Boat also had absolutely nothing to do with a Bronco (the WMU mascot) or Kalamazoo, so to many it didn't make any sense and didn't seem like a good fit. I learned that if you are going to brand and make public something so personal, you had better be confident enough and ready for the critics to attack it and not take it personally.

Truthfully, it's easier said than done. But I knew it was right for me and for this program and so I pressed on. Did it work? Not at first. But before I share that story, I want to share the Row the Boat Philosophy with you.