Like all things in life, I guess,
inspiration comes when you least expect it. And as a parent I suppose we rarely expect ourselves to be inspired, per
say, as raising children is more of an act in survival than it is in some sort
of creative stimulation. A cup of coffee
in the morning is all the stimulation we can count on, anything else is just
luck.
Nevertheless I was quite touched
when watching an episode of SEC Stories on ESPN called The Book of Manning. The
story chronicles the lives of NFL player Archie Manning and his 3 boys, two of
whom, Peyton and Eli, have also become star NFL quarterbacks. A third son, Cooper, was a star wide receiver
in high school who received a scholarship to Ole Miss but had to end his
playing career early having been diagnosed spinal stenosis during his freshman
year of college.
In an attempt to understand his
family’s rare success, Archie Manning was asked how he raised such prolific
athletes. His response was that there
was no real plan to do so. It just sort
of happened. His real intent was
something he carried on from his own father.
Archie’s father, who committed suicide when Archie was in college, gave
him a piece of advice while driving him to school prior to his freshman
year. Given that Archie was heading to Ole
Miss to play football he could have given him all kinds of advice. He could have quoted Lombardi. He could have told him the value of toughness
in a dog eat dog world. He could have
told him to never quit.
Yet, his advice was simple – and
perhaps more delicate than one would expect from of father of his era. He simply asked Archie to be a good guy. He said he wanted, above all else, for Archie
to be known as a good guy. Archie, in
turn, being motivated to always be present for his boys given the loss of his
own father at a young age, requested nothing more of Cooper, Peyton, and Eli
than to be good guys, good people.
In an age where competitiveness and
bettering one’s self, in comparison to others, seems to run rampant, this
struck me as sage advice. Having reached
the pinnacle of athletic success, Eli and Peyton could certainly be known for
their competitive fire, leadership, ice water veins, and ability to win – and
they are – but their ability to be liked, and likable, seems to trump all of
the characteristics that one would perceive to be necessary for success in
football and life. Even average football
fans, like say my wife or sister-in-law, find a simple congeniality in these
guys that really has nothing to do with their ability to throw a ball or
execute the west coast offense. They
could love Tom Brady or Drew Brees. But
they consistently say, “I loooooove Peyton Manning.”
But why? They are a bit charming in dopey sort of way I
suppose. Their faces have an odd
handsomeness perhaps. I personally
think it comes back to Archie’s rearing.
It is a love of each other. It is
a respect for family. But more so, it is
that they appear to strive to be - quite simply, nice. For some reason they are likable. Men like them. Women like them. Kids like them. No one hates them. I think we all wish we could say that.
And where I live in the land of
supposed nice – Minnesota Nice - it struck me as a worthy point of emphasis
with my own children; and, in other ways, with myself. Nonetheless, to tell a young child to be nice
isn't always an easy thing to explain.
Being nice is one thing. But
being nice in a world when it pays to be mean is an almost impossible thing to
ask. So how to do you raise kids to be
genuine, genuinely nice, and still have some backbone? How do you be nice and know when to be firm –
and still be nice?
Some send our kids to private cool
and hope it is still cool to be good.
Some might enforce a rigorous set of rules. All worthy approaches with probable
successes. When in doubt, however, I
suggest we call on a cinematic classic, Roadhouse. In a pivotal scene, the main character,
Dalton, who is played by Patrick Swayze, addresses his team of bouncers who are
faced with making their bar a more reputable place to patronize. He has three rules and the third is: be
nice.
The first two have to do with
fighting so as a parent I am going to deem them unnecessary at this point. So Dalton says: “If somebody gets in your
face and calls you a _____, I want you to be nice. Ask him to walk, be nice. If he won’t walk, walk him. But be nice.
If you can’t walk him, one of the others will help you. And you’ll both be nice.”
Perhaps I am being a bit tongue and
cheek. In fact, I am. But the point is that it pays to be
nice. You’ll have less trouble if you
are nice. And while most of us won’t
have legacy like the Manning’s, the least we can do for ourselves, and our
children, is to be known as nice people.
As parents, we always want the best
for kids. Unfortunately that sometimes
translates into wishing they be the best
at things. We then become
competitive. We then want to win. We then want to do anything it takes. And then usually we are not very nice. Therefore, if we follow the message of Roadhouse and teach our kids to be nice
in all circumstances, even when people aren't being so nice to us they will be
more likely to behave that way even when we wouldn't expect them to be.
Then maybe with a little luck they
turn out to be above all else good people.
Maybe they won’t play in the NFL but they won’t need to, their legacy
will already be written. Better to be a
good guy anyway.
