He has been my mentor for more than 30 years. He passed away this weekend.
When I met him, Doc was a Harvard Educated psychologist and a gymnastics coach. I was a rookie gymnastics coach studying psychology. I attended one of his lectures and like many good lectures I finished with many more questions than answers. I stopped him in the hallway and asked, “Excuse me, Dr. Massimo, Do you have time to answer a few follow up questions?”
He simply said, “Call me Doc, Let’s go get a coffee and we can finish the discussion”.
2 hours later we changed from coffee to wine and we were still talking shop.
While in college I met with him on occasion to seek academic and research advice. At the beginning of my coaching career I called on him on a regular basis for advice in the gym. As my career began to take off (based on the talent of the gymnasts) he was always available. We would meet for Chinese food or go for a quick drink after a competition and great discussions.
Looking back he was around at many of my life’s highpoints.
– He was the first one out side of my family to call and congratulate me on the birth of my daughter.
– The first time I had a gymnast make USA Championships, she made Event Finals on Balance Beam. As she dismounted and nailed her routine- who was there to congratulate the two of us? Doc.
Doc was always filled with an infectious enthusiasm! He had a way of making you believe in yourself and making even your craziest dreams seem possible.
Or relationship was never too formal. His leadership was less about directives and more about exploring ageless themes — constantly reminding me, “Consider this.” And “”Stop Over Thinking.” He expected me to raise my game.
As I reflect back on my relationship with Doc I realize that though coaches do often provide guidance and mentorship to others, once we hit a certain age, that guidance tends to fade away. And yet that’s when we need it most, because that’s when we as leaders have the greatest impact.
But should there be more? Is there a point at which we age out of having mentors and are obliged, instead, to play only the role of mentor, not mentee? As I reflect on the insights Doc gave me, I believe this is the case. I probably won’t find another mentor in my career, but the one I did have offered his guidance and wisdom with the implicit expectation that I find my own way to pass it on. Maybe Doc’s mentorship doesn’t end with his death. Maybe the final gift he’s given me is the opportunity to reflect on what he’s given me, with the goal of trying to become a mentor worthy of his investment.
Doc’s passing reminds me that my runway is limited, even short. I’m not sure if I’m yet worthy to pass his insights to others. I’m always surprised when younger people say they consider me a mentor. “Tony, when you said that, it changed my life direction. I want to thank you for that.” Often the “that” are comments, frankly, sometimes I don’t remember making.
But it’s time for me to pick up the mantle. The lessons I’ve gleaned from Doc are now part of me. None of what I learned from Doc are things he demanded I take from him or were forced on me. His casual reflections from the hard knocks of experiences of gymnastics and life were the source. He provided sparks of insight, even brilliance, derived from the messy context of gym life. He simply placed the insight on the table and let me figure it out.
Great mentors, I’ve realized, don’t tell you what to do; they find ways bring out the best in you. Doc taught me not to be a BOSS in the gym with the gymnasts but to be a partner in their experience. He taught me not to hover and micromanage my employees but to offer thought-provoking perspective. It’s less important that others do things my way than that we together shape the values and principles of the gym.
Like everyone who unexpectedly loses someone they love, I rue that I hadn’t seen Doc recently. Who knows what stories and metaphors I have missed the chance to consider. My education from him feels incomplete. And so I know that I must pick up the ball on my own. Whom should I lunch with now? Mentorship, in both directions, especially for those of us in our 50s, is too precious to let slip away.
Rest in Peace Doc. You’ve changed the world.
Doc- you have changed a generation of coaches. I thank you and hope carry on. Many people have seen my lecture, “Coaches as Educators” and I am turning it into a book. I really should re-name it to, “Everything I learned from Doc.”
