The Truth About Billy Donovan
by Karen Williams | July 19, 2007 - Seminole Chronicle
As Florida sports fans know, Coach Billy Donovan, who led the University of Florida Gators to two successive national basketball championships, recently signed on to coach the Orlando Magic. There was widespread celebration and hoopla (please note clever pun) as he inked his contract with Magic officials.
Then, the next day, Donovan changed his mind. Out of the blue, he decided he wanted to stay in Gainesville and wasn't interested in a career with the NBA.
There was intense speculation about what caused Donovan's change of heart. Did he say no to Orlando because he didn't want his kids pestering him to go to the theme parks night and day? Did he once bomb as an Amway products salesman and thus he resents the name of the Magic arena? Was $27 million over five years simply not enough to lure Billy from the serene campus of UF to the murder capital of Florida?
While the men of the world puzzle over this flip-flop, we women know clearly what happened: Mrs. Donovan said no.
This occurs often. Men commit to some sort of grandiose scheme without first thoroughly consulting their wives. They plan some kind of major life change, and then women are supposed to cheerfully give it a rubber stamp of approval. Au contraire, mon frere, er, feller. Not gonna happen.
It might be a perfectly respectable idea that a man comes up with, although more likely it's a hideously shortsighted and ill-conceived blunder. Either way, a woman is obligated to sabotage it rather than set a dangerous precedent.
This principle applies to minor situations as well as major ones. I recall being in the car, ready to go somewhere with my parents, when my mother would notice my dad had chosen a shirt without her input. "You go change that shirt right now and put on the green one with long sleeves," my mom would command, and my dad, grumbling something under his breath, would trudge back into the house to make the switch.
In my first marriage, I didn't yet have the hang of bossing my husband around. "You need to tell him what to wear and you need to tell him how to act," my mom curtly advised me.
"That doesn't seem quite right ..." I began.
"Well, how else is he going to know?" my mother countered. "You've got to teach him to stop wearing plaid pants with striped shirts and stop chewing a cud of gum like there's no tomorrow."
"You've got a point," I concurred. "But shouldn't I use 'I' statements so he won't feel that I'm attacking him? Like, shouldn't I say, 'When you wear mismatched clothes, I feel embarrassed and ashamed?'"
"Oh, stop being so mealy-mouthed," my mom groaned. "Just tell him what to do. How difficult is that? And by the way, get your hair cut - it looks straggly."
Alas, I didn't inherit my mom's ability to be forthright, and taking classes in assertiveness training failed to remove the mealy from my mouth. Perhaps that's why the marriage dissolved - or maybe it had something to do with that Thanksgiving when my mom stomped into my husband's closet and bagged up his belongings for donation to the dump.
I've been a painfully slow learner with regards to strong leadership, but thankfully there are countless role models available. And Mrs. Donovan, you rock.
Copyright 2007, Karen Williams
