Play Like You Mean It: Passion, Laughs, and Leadership in the World's Most Beautiful Game (10 page)

When Payton was born, I told my mother-in-law that he would never have to fight a day in his life. I meant it. I was that emotional over my child’s birth and that protective of him from the moment he took his first breath. I was going to be there for Payton, and to this day I am. It’s the same with Seth. When I was a child, because I was a twin, I didn’t know what it was like not to have someone always with you, always looking out for you. But as a parent, I have discovered the rules have changed. I have learned that you can’t fight all of your children’s battles. I am still there for them, and that won’t ever change. Ever. They grow up, they make mistakes, they experience life, they make their own friends, and they find their way.

You think time goes by quickly? Have children. I can’t believe they are teenagers already.

I try to spend as much time with Payton and Seth as I can, but it’s difficult, especially during the football season. In July 2010, we spent a week on the Outer Banks in North Carolina and had so much fun. I rented a huge beach house for my coaches and their families before the start of training camp. It was just a great way to relax and connect before we returned to the 24/7 grind of football. It was so neat to watch Payton and Seth interact with everyone, playing and goofing off. From dawn to dusk, we always had something to do. We played golf, football, putt-putt, a game where you toss beanbags in a hole cut out in a wooden plank, and Boogieboarded in the Atlantic Ocean. One day we had a tripleheader: golf in the morning, putt-putt in the afternoon, and pizza on the way back to the beach house. Each night a different family was in charge of dinner. One night it was Mexican, the next night steak, the next night BBQ. The kids disappeared into the downstairs bedrooms and played video games; the parents sat around the table and talked and laughed, usually into the early morning. It was just an amazing week … the kind of family time you can’t get very often when you’re coaching.

Being a parent is tough enough, and the only way it works in the Ryan home is because of Michelle. I knew when we first met that I could fall in love with her. We were married in 1987. She’s smart, she’s talented, she’s sweet, and she’s loyal as hell.

Family means a lot to Michelle, too. Her family lives in a small home in southwestern Oklahoma. Well, shortly after I’d been promoted to defensive coordinator in Baltimore, Michelle and I were out visiting her parents and we looked at Seth and Payton and said, “We think we ought to buy Grandma and Grandpa a new home.” They were excited and said, “Yeah! Let’s go get one!” So we left the boys to occupy Michelle’s parents, and she and I cruised around for a few hours until we found a house we really liked. When we got back that evening we told her parents about it. It was an absolutely great moment.

Last summer was Michelle’s parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary and we went to Europe and cruised the Baltic Sea with them. Of
course, the boys and I weren’t real excited about it, but we pretended that we couldn’t wait. I am here to tell you we had a great time. I couldn’t keep track of the boys on the ship, but it was relaxing and a wonderful way not only for the boys to spend time with their grandparents, but for me to get away from football, too. I couldn’t tell you who we signed or what had happened back in New York. It was actually a lot of fun to have that break and enjoy some unique family time.

Football has always been a mainstay in my life, but at first, Michelle didn’t know much about it. She soon realized what it meant to me, and we have been a team ever since. Our support for each other has never wavered. There was one time when I was at Morehead State in the early 1990s and we were struggling badly. I bitched and moaned in the car on the ride home after one game, and Michelle stared at me and asked point-blank if I had given any thought to changing careers. We didn’t have a house payment, we didn’t have any children, and she pointed out that this was the best time to make a change. I looked at her and said no way. It was football or bust, and I knew I wouldn’t bust.

Football is my domain, and everything else is Michelle’s. She has helped me become a successful coach and a successful parent. I worry about the Jets during the season, and Michelle worries about everything else: our house, the cars, the bills, the schoolwork, Payton and Seth, and anything from A to Z that relates to our home. All I need to worry about is making sure my house key opens the door each night. The only thing Michelle asks me to do around the house is maybe move something that’s too heavy for her. She takes care of everything else. She has to be the disciplinarian, she has to be the mom, she has to be the dad at times—she has to be the one who does everything. Of course, the boys love me because I want to do things with them when I am around. I am not the disciplinarian. When it comes down to good cop, bad cop—I am the good cop.

Michelle’s sacrifices and determination have given me the freedom to concentrate on football and work the long hours I need to
work to make the Jets successful. Some coaches’ wives might not agree with that arrangement; they may want their husbands home at a certain time so they can catch dinner and a movie. Michelle, however, has never complained about my hours away from home and from the kids. She wants to take care of everything on the home front so I can focus on football. If I am successful, our family is successful. When you get to this level and you put in the time that my wife has (and several of the other wives with their husbands), they are really the unsung heroes of the coaching profession. It’s the wives and the families who don’t get to see their husbands and fathers for six months out of the year who make the real sacrifices.

What more can I ask for? I am so fortunate to be in a career that I love and I am successful at, and I have a great wife and two great sons. Michelle is so understanding and accommodating. She knows when I am down and tired, and she can see the stress in my face or maybe in my actions when things don’t go well. I get quiet, and maybe even a little snappy after a loss. I may not say much on the drive home from the field, but Michelle understands. Even when we win games, I still might be pissed with the way we played. Those are the nights I need to go to bed; but one time I was so pissed at how we played defensively after a win that I went back to the office that night instead of going home. It doesn’t have to be like that, and it’s wrong, but Michelle never complained. Usually after games, I want to read the newspaper and watch television so I can see what the media has said about our team and me. That way I’m not surprised when I meet with the media at our daily news conference the following day. Michelle is the complete opposite. She doesn’t read the papers or watch television when it relates to our games. She believes the media distorts winning and losing. She can’t control the games, she can’t control the press, but she can—and she does—control our home. Our home is my sanctuary away from football, and she’s the one who makes it work. I can relax the few hours I am at home each night during the season because of Michelle. She makes it easy on me.

Take our games—Michelle knows my routine better than I do. When I break down film on Monday after a loss, that’s when I usually start to feel better. I usually see that we played better than I had thought, that maybe one or two plays were the difference in the game. We may have lost, but I’ll see some good things and I always believe we are going to win the next game. By Tuesday, I already start to game-plan for Sunday’s opponent, so the previous week’s game and loss are behind us. I need a short memory in this business. I don’t forget how we lost or why we lost, but I can’t dwell on it for too long because we always have another game in a few short days. Michelle and my kids know that. They understand me, just like I understood my father.

Michelle also understands that all my bravado, though genuine, is not always about me. I have confidence in everyone involved with the Jets, top to bottom. I know I have a great team and I have great coaches, so why shouldn’t I be confident in myself? I tell my children to be confident. Why not? If you set your standards low, what are the odds you’re going to achieve at a high level? If there’s no pressure to win, why coach? Who wants to hear a coach say, “Hey, let’s be average this year. Great! We’re on course to win half of our games, so let’s take it easy the rest of the way”? If a head coach, the leader on the football field, doesn’t believe in himself, who is going to follow? That’s why leadership, confidence, and bravado are an important part of the equation, in the NFL and, I really think, anywhere. If you believe in yourself, then you can often overcome a flawed plan or a negative circumstance just by willpower.

This is why I work so well under pressure and under the gun. There are a lot of people in the world, even in the coaching profession, who don’t want the pressure on them. I want that pressure. I am confident in what I can do. I want our children to be confident and believe in themselves and each other, too. Michelle gets it, and that’s why our family is such a great team.

Michelle and I really didn’t have a chance to relish the moment I was hired in New York until a few weeks later after the initial press
conference. I was so tired from the NFL season that had just ended, and after a few weeks we finally had the opportunity to enjoy it all and look at each other and say, “We made it.” I had reached my goal to be a head coach in the NFL—and it was in New York City, of all places.

We absolutely love New York, too. We like to take the train into the city and walk around or eat at a restaurant that somebody recommended. I actually have tried to play more golf, too, during the last off-season since the boys enjoy it. There’s a par-3 course near our home, and Seth and I will get out for a quick, 90-minute round. When at home, Michelle and I like to watch a good movie, or I might sit in my chair and work on a Sudoku puzzle.

People always see me smiling, laughing, and in a good mood, and they wonder if Michelle and I ever fight. That’s what is so great about our relationship—even our disagreements end up in laughter. There are times when Michelle is determined to stay mad at me. She might slam the cabinet door or throw a pan down on the counter to get my attention when she is set on making me suffer. I get that look all wives probably give their husbands when they are mad. Of course, I pop off and say something smart-alecky or funny and Michelle, bless her soul, can’t keep a straight face. She tries, but she can’t.

I am also the kind of guy who always tries to make a game out of anything. The Ryan family has long made up rules as we go. Like when the kids were younger and I was on the couch watching football and wanted a drink of water. Now, how in the world are you going to get one of your children to walk into the kitchen, fill up a water bottle, and bring it to you? Not likely. I told the boys, “Okay, let’s see who can get me the water bottle the quickest,” and I’d time them. It worked every time, and the Road Runner didn’t have a chance against Payton and Seth.

The two boys are close and pull for each other even though they have different interests. Payton is not comfortable in the spotlight. He loves the Jets and hates it when I lose. I think that’s one reason
why he elected to stay in Baltimore and finish high school, even after the Jets hired me. He lives with my brother-in-law. In Baltimore, he is removed from the highs and lows of our wins and losses. But he can tell you exactly what happened in our game, remember nearly every play, his memory is that good. He knows where we are in the standings. Payton might act nonchalant about our season, but it means a lot more to him than he might want you to think. I am so proud of Payton. He’s a great kid.

As I said, Seth is the son who absolutely loves football. Of course, his favorite player is our quarterback, Mark Sanchez. Sanchez loves Seth; Seth is like his little brother. They text-message each other all the time. Mark went to every one of Seth’s freshman football games, home and away. I told him to stop because I thought it would interfere with his preparation for our games, but he insisted, “No, no, this is part of my routine.” Once people started to figure out Mark would be at the game, a lot of fans started to show for Seth’s freshman football games. Mark didn’t cut Seth—or even Michelle—any slack either. Seth had lost his game uniform pants before one game and the replacement pants Michelle had for him were huge and just about swallowed him whole. Mark busted Seth and Michelle and said there was no way Seth could show for his game in those pants. “You don’t look good, you don’t play good,” Mark repeated about a thousand times. I was like, “Nah, he’s fine. It’s not a big deal.” But it was a big deal to Mark. He absolutely killed Seth and Michelle about those pants.

I mentioned before that Seth attends practice with me and runs routes against our cornerbacks. A guy like Darrelle Revis won’t give Seth any slack either. He has knocked Seth to the ground on a completion. One time, Darrelle stepped on Seth’s shoe while Seth ran a route and the kid still caught the ball in front of Revis. Revis was pissed. So Seth has that on his résumé: “Caught a ball in front of All-Pro cornerback Darrelle Revis.” When Seth’s at practice, I let him run round and have fun. Even though he’s my son, when he has run routes, our players think, “Hey, I don’t care if he’s the coach’s kid, we
don’t want him catching the ball on our watch.” They go after him pretty good. Seth is fearless, and it’s kind of hilarious to watch. I don’t know if that’s going to be a good thing, but I just want him to have fun and play. I do know one thing, though. He’s going to be a third-generation coach in the Ryan family, that’s for sure.

But until Seth is coaching a team of his own, he’s pretty possessive of mine, and everything that goes with it, including the little rituals. Of course, my wife and I and the kids have our own superstitions when it comes to our games. Each Friday night, we eat out at our favorite local Mexican restaurant. Michelle even has a lucky outfit she wears for the home games against New England.

Everyone is anxious and excited, and it’s neat that my family has been involved in this journey. I am so blessed, so thankful, and so appreciative to have such a wonderful wife and a wonderful family. I am also hopeful that Payton and Seth look up to me the same way I look up to my father to this very day. There’s nothing better than being a father of my own.