As society struggles with powerful challenges to traditions of all kinds, coaches must be alert to emerging trends. Of particular concern are changing perceptions about the appropriate use of power. Coaches Report examines the power of a coach and the vulnerability it engenders.

The 22-year-old teacher, fresh out of university, was given the job of coaching the women's basketball and volleyball teams. It was a powerful and responsible position for a young man. Soon, however, warning bells began to sound in his head. These young women were, after all, not much younger than he was.

Talking about it years later, the Coach recalls feeling vulnerable. Instinctively, he knew that a personal relationship with one of his athletes could be unfair-to the athlete, to all the other members of the team, and to himself. Heeding the warning bells, he avoided placing himself in a dubious moral situation.

That experience laid the groundwork for an unwritten policy established by that same coach when he later took charge of Canada's women's ski team. To Currie Chapman, It is simple common sense to insist that a coach resign immediately if he falls in love with an athlete.

"I believe that once an athlete and a coach become involved, a conflict of interest exists," says Chapman. "There's obviously going to be a different relationship between the two people, but also between that coach and the other athletes, and between that athlete and her teammates. It becomes distracting and upsetting."

Every time Chapman hired a coach, he made the situation clear. And in every case, he recalls, the coach was convinced such a situation would never happen. Chapman knew differently.

Not every coach is as wise as Chapman and not every case is about love. According to Judge Hugh Fraser, many other distressing situations can arise when coaches "unwittingly get caught in the unclear delineation between the power and authority inherent in the coach/athlete relationship."

When that happens, the result, too often, is unhappy athletes and compromised coaches.

A coach's actions and decisions affect athletes, other coaches, and the athlete's family and friends - this is the power of the position. The crux of the issue is the perceived abuse of that power over an athlete. Tom Kinsman, CPCA executive director, points out that power legitimately goes with any position requiring expertise and involving the authority to make decisions.

"The challenge to the coach is to recognize the power and learn how to use it rationally and with discretion," says Kinsman. "A coach's legitimate power is based on the experience, education, and knowledge brought to the job. That's what makes athletes come to you; you’re hired for your expertise."

Vulnerability, says Kinsman, is the down side of power.

"Because the coach's actions and decisions affect people, he or she is subject to strong praise or strong criticism," he says. "Should the action or decision be perceived negatively by those affected, the potential for trouble is real. So the coach must be very responsible in using the power, and understand and be prepared to handle the criticism that goes with the territory."

Public perception of athletes today is also problematic. Too often in our society, athletes are viewed as a means to an end. What the public often forgets, surprisingly, is that athletes are sensitive human beings with lives beyond sport; they are not simply a commodity. It is incumbent upon coaches to understand their athletes' complex and unique set of emotional needs and to be aware of

individual responses to pressure. One athlete, for example, may thrive with the coach who yells instructions. Another regards the yelling as abusive.

Certainly, most coaches use their legitimate power fairly and correctly. So what can go wrong? The answer is "plenty."

A coach who acts in good faith could find his or her actions and decisions open to differing interpretations, or to misinterpretation, which may lead to the impression of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, or to false accusations.

As noted In Currie Chapman's recollections, a coach can create a conflict of interest in entering into a close, personal relationship with an athlete. Although not abusive, the situation has the potential to have a negative impact on others.

An unwary coach can step over the bounds of appropriate behavior leading directly to a situation of physical, sexual, or emotional abuse ["Expert Deplores Emotional Abuse In Sport," Vol.1, No. 2].

As society evolves, what is emerging is a style of coaching far different from the authoritarian model that held sway for so many years. It's a style reflective of the new generation of athletes who are aware of their rights, who question coaches far more than was acceptable in the past, and who have a greater need to understand and accept what it is they are being asked to do.

Fraser, for many years a leading sprinter, recalls a couple of teammates in the '70s saying, "If he tells me to jump off a bridge, I'll jump off a bridge," in reference to a successful sprint coach.

"Would a top athlete think like that today?" wonders Fraser.

According to Fraser and Kinsman, the wise coach encourages appraisals and evaluations from colleagues and athletes, creates an atmosphere of openness and honesty, makes sure that athletes understand that the role of the coach is to motivate and push, to drive, at times to be hard, and encourages them to speak out if they feel an action is inappropriate. The wise coach uses balance to maintain perspective when an athlete is injured or results are disappointing.

And the wise coach, while dedicated and devoted to the job, has a life outside of sport.

"The coach who leads a balanced existence will pass that approach on to the athlete," says Fraser. "In some cases, balance may mean a bit of a sacrifice of the short-term results you get from very intense involvement, but few people can last at that pace. We've seen too many athletes eat, drink, and sleep sport, and two years later, they've disappeared from the scene."

As Fraser suggests, when success is measured only by results, there tends to be less concern about methods, and that is when a coach risks slipping into inappropriate practices. "Success feeds the ego, and the more success a coach has, the more he is left to do his own thing," says Fraser. "And when that happens, the more risk there is that a coach will become a law unto himself. This is where objective evaluation becomes so important. The coach has to say, 'I think I'm successful; I'm doing a lot of things right, but there's a chance I may not be doing everything right in everyone's eyes, so if I'm getting into an area where I can't see it, I want someone to tell me."'

Kinsman adds another dimension to the importance of objective evaluation.

With society's standards in flux, it falls to the coach to stay on top of what's appropriate and what's not. Ongoing education is important as are peer discussions. So is keeping an eye on similar professions – teaching, for example – and others where contact with young people is the norm.

Is such care really necessary? "Yes," says Fraser, who has mediated cases where "a good younger coach made an error in judgment" and became too close to an athlete. Today, he explains, such an error is likely to propel a coach into court where judges regularly hear cases involving "far less serious situations."

"The potential for danger is even greater in sport than in teaching," says Fraser. "It is a much closer relationship, and I think it has to be guarded. Coaches may not like the new rules, but there has to be some distance because that's the society we live in now. It's a very dicey time."

It is only natural, he agrees, for coaches to congratulate athletes, to comfort them with a hug or a pat, to show them how to get into the blocks, to check for leg cramps. So Fraser advises laying some ground rules.

"From the outset of a relationship, explain to the athletes and the parents that if, in your enthusiasm to do the best job you can, you ever do anything to make the athlete uncomfortable, you want to be told about it right away," suggests Fraser. "The athlete who is encouraged to speak up can quickly bring any offending behavior to the coach's attention. Then there's more chance that the behavior can be corrected before it turns into an incident involving the legal authorities, and the coach becomes less likely to end up in court."

Track coach Les Gramantik, a veteran of 25 years in the profession, isn't perturbed by society's shifting values.

"I set my ethical and moral guidelines long before I started coaching, and I've never had difficulty maintaining them," he says. "I don't consciously take all kinds of steps to make sure I'm not accused, but I'm a pretty open kind of guy, and I'm also careful about the athletes I choose to coach. And I believe that good communication makes for being on good terms with my athletes."

Aside from an occasional beer, Gramantik draws the line at socializing with his athletes. It is very important, he says, to maintain his status as coach, to have what he calls "a little buffer between coach and athlete."

While Gramantik credits sport psychologists and sociologists with doing "a terrific job" of clarifying the rights and wrongs of behaviour, he feels that an expanded coach education programme along with a form of apprenticeship could create individuals better equipped to coach today's athletes.

"While the National Coaching Institute concept is commendable, coach education isn't long or deep enough, even though I hear people complaining about the length and difficulty of the courses," he says. "Well, it's minuscule compared to what I and many others went through [to get a master's degree from the University of Bucharest]."

Gramantik takes great pride in his calling and deplores the behavior of those who would undermine its professional image. He includes individuals who coach to be near people they would not otherwise be able to associate with, or whose main motivation is recognition or fame, or who are content to be simply a technician.

"The complexity of coaching is more than training dogs to jump over hoops," he says. "In many ways, it's like a marriage without the sex; there's lots of interactions, lots of agreements and disagreements. A coach should be proud of being able to do much more than simply giving the best advice on how to get over a piece of fibreglass. The total package is far more that just lining athletes up and telling them how to do something correctly ... it's combining leadership with personal interest to guide the athlete in the right direction; it's dedication; it's moral and ethical standards; it's the respect of other coaches.

"I love what I'm doing; this is my profession. Producing a great athlete involves a lot of luck and a good combination of circumstances. I prefer to be recognized for who I am and not necessarily for what I have produced. You're not vulnerable if your standards are set at the right place."

Sometimes, despite a strong personal code of behavior, a coach is wrongly accused. The charge may come when an athlete, disappointed by a coach's decision, seeks revenge. Sometimes a disgruntled colleague is the source, or a rival for a plum appointment.

Whatever the reason, the weapon of false accusation has become an occupational hazard for professionals in all fields, and is causing concern within the coaching community where close personal interactions and tough decisions are daily occurrences.

While he agrees that certain spontaneous behaviors of the past should be shelved, Tom Kinsman says that the wise coach knows the

boundaries and takes care to be sensitive to what he or she is doing at all times.

"Say there is an accidental touching of a body part," he says. "instead of feeling awkward and saying nothing, the coach should immediately discuss what happened and make it very clear that the action was not deliberate."

It also helps, Kinsman says, to take the time to build good relationships so that athletes understand a coach's methods and motivations and can better accept difficult decisions. He also advises coaches to heed any warning signals and, if concerned, to keep good records.

"It's tough, but it's certainly worth the effort," he says.

Hugh Fraser echoes Kinsman in noting that a soured relationship is the most common reason for a false accusation. Coaches, he says, need to understand this reality and practise what he calls "risk management."

"Most people enter coaching with a certain naivete, believing that because they've made this career choice out of the love of sport, nothing can go wrong," says Fraser. "Well, things can go wrong and prevention can be something as simple as being careful about meeting one-on-one when nobody else is around. It's a precaution that even judges are being advised to practise nowadays."

In measured tones, Fraser stresses the seriousness of understanding the vulnerability that power can bring.

Today, more than ever, a coach's life is a challenging one. However, in most cases, love of the profession drives a coach to accept trying working conditions, low pay, a lack of security, endless criticism, and public scrutiny. Now, Tom Kinsman believes, it is that love that will help coaches to understand and adjust to changing standards of behaviour.