that actually got me excited about heading to work.
But football is just a game. It’s not family. It’s not a way of life. It doesn’t provide any sort of intrinsic meaning. It’s just football. It lasts for three hours, and when the game is over, it’s over.
And frankly, as you’ll see throughout this book, that fact—that when it’s over, it’s over—is part of football’s biggest appeal to me. When a game ends, win or lose, it’s time to prepare for the next one. The coaches and players really don’t have time to celebrate or to stay down, because Sunday’s gone and Monday’s here. And no matter what happened yesterday, you have to be ready to play next Sunday.
That’s how it works—just like life.
It’s the journey that matters. Learning is more important than the test. Practice well, and the games will take care of themselves. Whether you’ve been kicked in the teeth or life just couldn’t get any sweeter, it keeps rolling on . . . and then there’s another game.
If football were the only thing that mattered to me, I would have left coaching after the 2001 season, when I had finished with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers—or when they had finished with me. At that time, I thought God might be moving me into some other walk of life. There were a lot of things I had always wanted to do “someday,” and my family certainly wanted to stay in Tampa. I figured God was simply telling me that “someday” had arrived.
If it were all about football, I would have left after the 2005 season, when I was reminded—in the most painful context I can imagine—that football really occupies a spot far down my list of priorities.
If it were all about football, I would have moved on after the 2006 season, when the Colts won Super Bowl XLI, accomplishing the ultimate team goal in the National Football League. After all, if football were all that mattered, what else would be left to do?
It would have been easy enough to do: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve achieved the ultimate victory. I’m stepping down.” Everyone would have understood.
But winning the Super Bowl is not the ultimate victory. And once again, just to make certain we’re on the same page, it’s not all about football. It’s about the journey—mine and yours—and the lives we can touch, the legacy we can leave, and the world we can change for the better.
I’m still not totally comfortable putting my story in a book, but here’s how I see it: although football has been a part of my life that I’ve really enjoyed, I’ve always viewed it as a means to do something more. A means to share my faith, to encourage and lift up other people. And I see this book as a way of expanding the platform that football has provided.
Despite my day job, I am by nature a very private person in a very private family. So you won’t see a whole lot about my children in this book. I love them dearly, and it’s impossible to tell my story without mentioning them. At the same time, a tension exists because my wife, Lauren, has worked very hard to make our kids’ upbringing as normal as possible with a father who is the head coach of an NFL team. So with one notable, obvious exception, you won’t find much discussion of my children in this book. I hope you, as well as they, understand and appreciate why.
This book is not only about me, either. It’s about the priorities, choices, approaches, and habits that lead to being a winner, to experiencing true success. It’s about you and me and our journey in this world together. It’s about the things I’ve learned, the mistakes I’ve made, and the heartaches that have made me lean into the Father’s presence. I hope that when it’s all said and done, you’ll see that it’s really all about Him.
Chapter One: Tampa Rain
We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed. We are perplexed, but not driven to despair. We are hunted down, but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down,