Since I began supervising I have always preached expectations. I want my students to be able to clearly explain their expectations that they have of me (their supervisor), of each other individually, of a staff as a whole, and of themselves. The expectations that are created at the beginning of the year set the tone, they put everyone in the staff on the same page and also help me mold my relationships with them as a supervisor. I get a better understanding of what they are looking for in each other but also in me.
I am slowly realizing that expectations is important to me in just about all aspects of life. I don't know if I have always used the term 'expectation' when my brain was wrapping my head around different situations, but taking a look back...that is definitely what it is.
In an sort of position/relationship I have some expectations in my head that I have to meet with the person/people that I am working with and I also have my own of those people. I would like to think I do a good job of verbalizing what those needs are because after all how can people meet my expectations if they do not know what they are?
Silent expectations can be a killer to any group that you are working in. You might not be meeting expectations and you have no idea! How do we handle this? How can you tell?
Let's eliminate the silent expectation. Let's communicate our needs effectively and reduce the guessing that has to happen on a day to day basis. I promise it will make everything a lot easier.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Amazing
So I pretty much had a top 5 day ever on Tuesday. Again, I've been pretty blessed in my lifetime that I have been able to have some incredible experiences but Tuesday definitely raised the bar.
The day started out pretty normal. It was cold and rainy, my office was roughly 22 degrees and my fingers were nearly frost bitten. I was going through the mundane Tuesday routine of meeting, meeting, lunch, 1 on 1, meeting, and finish the work day. As the day was winding I got a call from my sister who was on her way into Boston. Molly has worked at Fenway Park for the past 4 or 5 years and at the end of the year they conclude with a Staff Appreciation Day. They get to go on the field, take batting practice, shag fly balls, really just day to day baseball activities. She told me she could get me in, most likely I would just get to stand on the warning track or in the stands but that I could walk around Fenway and hang out. It was pretty nasty out and I had a night full of meetings but I figured it would be cool to hang out with Molly in Fenway and just get away from campus for an hour or so. As I'm walking to Fenway my sister shoots a text 'Bring a glove!' I take off in a sprint back to campus to get to my apartment to grab a glove. I haven't moved like that in a long time. I felt like a little kid running to a pick up game. I grabbed my glove and flew down to Fenway.
My sister greeted me at Gate D and just walked by security. Walking through Fenway when no one is there is an experience in itself. It seems so surreal when there's no hustle and bustle throughout the concourse, the concession stands are vacant, and no roar of the crowd. We walk out on the third base side right down to the wall. The gate is open right outside on deck circle and we so casually walk right onto the field. I'M STANDING ON THE FIELD. You could have stopped there and I still would be writing about this experience. Then we get in a line...I'm not sure what's going on at first because I am still taking everything in. It hits me! I am in line to take Batting Practice. 20 minutes feels like 3 hours as I anxiously await this once in a lifetime opportunity. Finally, my sister goes...and surprisingly ropes a couple line drives. I walk towards the plate, pick up a bat, and try to stay calm. I'm trying to hide this boyish smile that is plastered across my face. I keep saying, hit the first pitch hard then you can take it in. I zone in on the first pitch as it comes to the plate...and crush it up the middle. Probably a routine fly ball for whatever CF is out there but I at least smoked it to the Outfield. After that it is hard for me to focus on the ball without looking out at Fenway from the plate. I take about 20 or so swings making really good contact without 13 of them.
We then went out to the field and shagged balls for a bit. Unfortunately there were not many great hitters there so we didn't see much action...however, one of the coaches came out and just started hitting fly balls to the outfield. I have a new appreciation for those players trying to track balls in the lights...BRUTAL.
I found myself alone in Left Field at one point in those 2 hours. I'm not sure if I was praying, talking to myself, or what I was doing but I had this sincere appreciation on my face as to what was happening. So many times in life we take for granted our experiences and do not truly understand what was happening until it is over. I was lucky that day. For a few brief moments I zeroed in on what was happening and was so thankful. I must have said thanks to my sister about 300 times or so. She did not have to invite me that day but she thought of me and for that I will be forever grateful. Every young boy in New England grows up with a dream like that...whether you grew up in the 20s, 60s, or today...at one point in your life you thought it would be amazing to play ball at Fenway. I got to do that. It most likely will never happen again but on that Tuesday my little boy had an incredible time.
Thanks Molly
The day started out pretty normal. It was cold and rainy, my office was roughly 22 degrees and my fingers were nearly frost bitten. I was going through the mundane Tuesday routine of meeting, meeting, lunch, 1 on 1, meeting, and finish the work day. As the day was winding I got a call from my sister who was on her way into Boston. Molly has worked at Fenway Park for the past 4 or 5 years and at the end of the year they conclude with a Staff Appreciation Day. They get to go on the field, take batting practice, shag fly balls, really just day to day baseball activities. She told me she could get me in, most likely I would just get to stand on the warning track or in the stands but that I could walk around Fenway and hang out. It was pretty nasty out and I had a night full of meetings but I figured it would be cool to hang out with Molly in Fenway and just get away from campus for an hour or so. As I'm walking to Fenway my sister shoots a text 'Bring a glove!' I take off in a sprint back to campus to get to my apartment to grab a glove. I haven't moved like that in a long time. I felt like a little kid running to a pick up game. I grabbed my glove and flew down to Fenway.
My sister greeted me at Gate D and just walked by security. Walking through Fenway when no one is there is an experience in itself. It seems so surreal when there's no hustle and bustle throughout the concourse, the concession stands are vacant, and no roar of the crowd. We walk out on the third base side right down to the wall. The gate is open right outside on deck circle and we so casually walk right onto the field. I'M STANDING ON THE FIELD. You could have stopped there and I still would be writing about this experience. Then we get in a line...I'm not sure what's going on at first because I am still taking everything in. It hits me! I am in line to take Batting Practice. 20 minutes feels like 3 hours as I anxiously await this once in a lifetime opportunity. Finally, my sister goes...and surprisingly ropes a couple line drives. I walk towards the plate, pick up a bat, and try to stay calm. I'm trying to hide this boyish smile that is plastered across my face. I keep saying, hit the first pitch hard then you can take it in. I zone in on the first pitch as it comes to the plate...and crush it up the middle. Probably a routine fly ball for whatever CF is out there but I at least smoked it to the Outfield. After that it is hard for me to focus on the ball without looking out at Fenway from the plate. I take about 20 or so swings making really good contact without 13 of them.
We then went out to the field and shagged balls for a bit. Unfortunately there were not many great hitters there so we didn't see much action...however, one of the coaches came out and just started hitting fly balls to the outfield. I have a new appreciation for those players trying to track balls in the lights...BRUTAL.
I found myself alone in Left Field at one point in those 2 hours. I'm not sure if I was praying, talking to myself, or what I was doing but I had this sincere appreciation on my face as to what was happening. So many times in life we take for granted our experiences and do not truly understand what was happening until it is over. I was lucky that day. For a few brief moments I zeroed in on what was happening and was so thankful. I must have said thanks to my sister about 300 times or so. She did not have to invite me that day but she thought of me and for that I will be forever grateful. Every young boy in New England grows up with a dream like that...whether you grew up in the 20s, 60s, or today...at one point in your life you thought it would be amazing to play ball at Fenway. I got to do that. It most likely will never happen again but on that Tuesday my little boy had an incredible time.
Thanks Molly
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