I’ve been having a few bad days. I’ve been under the weather - not actually ill, but feeling off, and struggling to concentrate on revision. But today it was brightened up by running into a friend.
I used to be much more involved in the Oxford University Fencing Club. At one point, when I was feeling young and overly ambitious, I asked about the possibility of being beginners’ secretary. The position was usually an elected one, but since it hadn’t been filled, the committee leaped on me before I had a chance to protest.
I don’t think I did a bad job, but I was hardly anything to write home about. However, I got very lucky. At the start of the year, the club president forwarded me an email from a guy coming over from Cambridge, who was apparently a coach. We were desperate for extra coaches, so after a few brief meetings to check that the guy wasn’t a complete nutter, I happily handed him a class of fifty or so ‘interested’s. These are the guys that turn up at the start of the year, often for just the taster session. We try to hang on to as many of them as possible.
He gave a brilliant lesson to them, and I was only mildly surprised to see that most of them came back the following week. Their numbers slowly trickled down, but at the end of the year, there was still over twenty of them, and they had learnt a lot. This guy was worth his weight in gold as a coach.
And more so. Because he hadn’t just coached them, and coached them well, but he’d also kept them interested. He’d made sure that the social secretaries had actually done their job and arranged for at least one curry at term. He’d chatted with his old friends at Cambridge, and set up a beginner’s Varsity match. He balanced the high numbers at the start of the year with extra sessions, and liaised with the committee to make sure that accomplished beginners moved into intermediates, and stayed there.
By the end of the year, I had only two main concerns. Firstly, I felt like I was a bit superfluous. Secondly, I wasn’t sure how much of this would last when our Golden Man left when his degree was over.
So I ran into him today in the street, having missed out on fencing for the last year (I have been far too busy). A brief chat assured me that things were running even more smoothly than I’d hoped, with high numbers and good coaching. But betters still, he assured me that although he’d soon be off to Japan for a year, there were now eight new qualified coaches ready to take over, as well as an incredibly efficient new beginners’ secretary running the show.
I read somewhere about the difference between good and great leaders. Both will do wonders for your organisation, bringing you to the top of your game, getting things done, and keeping people happy. But the main difference is that a great leader will have an effect that will last long after they’re gone. They’ll make sure that someone just as good will fill their shoes when they’re gone, and that all the plates keep spinning by themselves. And amazingly, they’re modest about it. They just do their job as best they can.
I hope one day to find that I’m a leader of that quality, but I honestly doubt it. Until then, the best thing I can do is to recognise these Golden Men when I find them, and make sure they put where they can do the most good. But I rather doubt they need me to do that.