Roderick Washington never thought he would be a coach. Growing up poor, with three brothers, a single mother who worked two jobs to make ends meet, and a father he only met once, he was the very definition of an “at-risk” kid. The odds were stacked against him to even graduate high school, much less go to college and get a master's degree. Sometime in early elementary school, he had been misdiagnosed with a learning disorder and, as a result, no one paid much attention to him, or invested much in him. But, one day, when Roderick was a sophomore in high school, the football coach stopped him in the hall and asked him why he didn't play football. Roderick didn't have a good answer, so the coach asked him to meet him in the locker room after school.

Feeling like he didn't have much of a choice, he showed up, and his life was changed forever. His coaches believed in what he could do; they weren't concerned with what he could not do. They taught him new skills, gave him responsibilities, and then expected him to handle those responsibilities.

They treated him like the man he could become, not the boy that he was. He thought they were the most powerful men he had ever met, because they always used their power and position to build him up, not put him down. Playing sports was, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to him.

So after watching his best friend use his power and position to put a kid down instead of lift him up, he knew he had to say something. He jogged after Coach Smitty.

“Hey, Smitty! Wait up.” Coach Washington called out as his friend was about to go into the field house.

Coach Smitty turned. “Oh, good, Rod! I'm glad you're here. We need to talk about Friday night. I was thinking… .”

“You're right, Smitty. We do need to talk,” Coach Washington interrupted. “But it's not about Friday night; I'm not here to talk to you as your Offensive Coordinator. We need to talk, friend to friend.”

Coach Smitty could tell by Coach Washington's voice and body language that what was to follow would be best talked about in private. The thing Coach Smitty valued so much about Coach Washington was that he was never afraid to call right, “right,” and wrong, “wrong.” He motioned them toward his office.

Coach Smitty and Coach Washington had first met when Coach Smitty landed a graduate assistant position at a small D3 school. Coach Washington, a few years older, was the receivers coach. They hit it off immediately. At the time, neither one of them was married, so coaching was their life.

One year later, at a Fourth of July party, they made each other a promise: whichever one of them became a head coach, that person would hire the other. In their minds, they were both thinking they were going to make it big in the collegiate ranks, but after volunteering together at a high school youth camp they both fell in love with coaching high school athletes. Not long after that, Coach Smitty got the job at Northwest High School, a program that hadn't had a winning season in 15 years. It wasn't what they had envisioned when they made their pact, but a promise is a promise, and off they went.

Coach Washington was a phenomenal offensive coordinator. More than anything, though, Coach Washington was the best friend a guy could ask for.

As they walked into his office, Coach Smitty paused at a photo of the two of them at the camp that set them on the path to coach high school football. Then he sat on the couch across from his friend, and said, “Okay, Rod. What's up?”

Coach Washington looked Coach Smitty square in the eyes, took a deep breath, and did something that requires a deep commitment to integrity and to one another—he called his best friend out. “Smitty, I told you on Saturday that the situation with Davey needed to be handled in the open! You disagreed with me and chose to handle it privately. Regardless, I had your back and supported you. You'll always get a 100 percent commitment from me. But that stunt you just pulled out there, what you said to Marcellus. How you treated him was… .”

Coach Smitty cut his friend off. “How I treated Marcellus? C'mon, Rod, everyone is making too big of a deal out of this Davey situation. It's not like Davey said the ‘N-word.’”

“You think because he didn't say that specific word it lessens the severity of this situation?”

The passion in Coach Washington's voice caught Coach Smitty off-guard.

Coach Washington continued, “Smitty, do you remember that time we had to pull the bus over at a sporting goods store on our way to a road game because we forgot to pack our kicking tee?”

Coach Smitty nodded.

“After a few minutes, I came out and told you they didn't have any kicking tees, and you could tell that I was bothered. Why was I bothered?” Coach Washington asked.

After a pause, Coach Smitty answered, “Because a guy in the store said something awful to you.”

“That's right. It wasn't the ‘N-word,’” Coach Washington reminded him, “but it was still very hurtful. So hurtful that you went inside and gave the guy a piece of your mind.”

Humbled, Coach Smitty understood the point his friend was making. “You're so right, Rod. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come down on Marcellus like that. It's just … well. You know, we've got a real shot at winning this thing. And we can't let anything take our minds off of that. It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for these kids to have a shot at the big one.”

“Smitty, listen to yourself. A real shot at winning this thing? What are you trying to win here?” Coach Washington shook his head. “Don't you remember why we chose to be here? We didn't come here because we thought we were going to win championships. Hell, before us they had barely won a game in 15 years! We came here to win the hearts of these kids and help them become men. And what you did out there … that's not the Smitty I know. And it's definitely not going to win any hearts, or championships.”

“It was that bad, was it?” Coach Smitty asked, knowing the answer even as he asked the question.

Coach Washington's shoulders dropped. He whispered, “Smitty, it's was worse than you realize.”

“No, no. I see it now. I'll get Marcellus in here and apologize.” Coach Smitty stood up and started towards the door.

Coach Washington stopped him. “You don't see it, Smitty. This isn't about you feeling the pressure to win or snapping at Marcellus. It's bigger than that. And it's going to ruin more than our season. You can't coach your way out of this.”

Coach Washington then put his hand on his best friend's shoulder and said, “Smitty, come with me. I want to show you something.”