Believe Enough To Sell It: Clemson’s Dabo Swinney Offers Three Lessons On Vision And Building Something Special
The most influential man at Clemson University is only 50 years old. His aw-shucks Southern charm makes him seem approachable and affable—and he is—but it masks something greater: a vision for Clemson that far exceeds what anyone else can see. It’s that vision that has allowed Dabo Swinney and his Tigers to line up across from the LSU Tigers tonight, playing for Clemson’s third national title in five years.
Swinney is a study in leadership. He’s not like some of his coaching contemporaries—while Swinney runs a tight ship, he doesn’t fit into the Nick Saban or Bill Belichick molds. Swinney is neither a dictator nor an authoritarian; he’s a visionary, and what he’s telling people about the future is damn contagious.
There’s no better example of that than the one I read in a recent New York Times piece by Bruce Schoenfeld on Swinney and his powers of persuasion. In 2012, Swinney was pushing for a new training facility for his team; it was a concept that he’d envisioned, going so far as to draw a rough sketch of the building on a napkin during a dinner with Clemson’s athletic director, Dan Radakovich.
The problem was money. Swinney’s vision would require a lot of it, and Radakovich created a strategy for soliciting the needed funds from some of the school’s best donors, beginning with Bill and Pam Hendrix. I’ll let Schoenfeld take it from here:
The plan called for elite donors to contribute $2.5 million each to the project. Nobody had ever given that much to Clemson athletics. But if Hendrix did, Radakovich believed, others would follow. Except that Hendrix had just donated several hundred thousand dollars toward a locker room and offices.
“I thought that was a pretty nice gift,” Hendrix says. His wife, Pam, was equally unmoved by the fund-raising appeal. We’ve built enough, she told her husband.
Swinney flew in to make a final plea. He and the Hendrixes sat on the back porch, cooled by the ocean breeze. They ate pizza that Pam made from scratch. At one point, Swinney mentioned that Hendrix must have been around for what at that time was Clemson’s only national championship in football, in 1981.
“Hell yes, I was,” Hendrix responded.
Swinney’s voice rose. “Do you ever want to win another one?”
“Hell yes, I do!”
“Well,” Swinney said, jabbing a finger at his own chest, “I’m your best hope.”
He paused, then pointed the same finger at Hendrix. “And you’re my best hope.”
That 2014 evening, Swinney left with a commitment for $2.5 million. Once the door had closed, Pam Hendrix turned to her husband.
“Do you think we’re giving them enough?” she said.”
Bruce Schoenfeld (Dabo Swinney Has a Vision to Sell You – New York Times)
I love that story. There are three lessons about vision that we can pull from that one anecdote alone, lessons that can help anyone inspire and sell others on their vision.
.1 See the whole picture. Swinney could’ve told Radakovich that he needed new training facility, given him some vague wish list, and left it to the AD to figure out. Chances are good Swinney would’ve gotten a facility—eventually—but by having the entire picture in his head, Swinney was able to sketch out the future for Radakovich to see. Just that simple little sketch was enough to transfer the passion for the future from Swinney to Radakovich, and get momentum going.
2. Know the key players. Radakovich, who came to Clemson from Georgia Tech, knew exactly who Swinney would need to get onboard if the vision was going to work. Furthermore, he knew that the potential hurdles would be in bringing those key players onboard. Too often, we don’t take the time to identify the right people to help a vision succeed, and even if we identify them, we don’t know enough about them to effectively cast vision to them.
3. Be the first mover. Swinney didn’t send Radakovich to try and solicit the donation; he went and made the pitch himself. While anyone would be impressed with a visit from their alma mater’s head ball coach, Swinney’s unique passion and insight for the project made more of an impression than his title. When you’re trying to share a vision with others, be the first and loudest proponent; build excitement in others by being excited yourself, and then leverage that excitement by knowing exactly what you want other followers to contribute.
Clemson got their big new training facility in 2016—just after winning that year’s national championship. They won a second title under Swinney last year, and tonight the Tigers will fight for the chance to complete a second straight undefeated season with a College Football Playoff trophy. It’s rarified air for Swinney, who turned an interim coaching assignment in 2008 into a national powerhouse.
But that’s the thing: Swinney could see Clemson at the top, even then. And he’s never stopped selling that vision, casting it to every player, coach, booster and fan he meets. It’s what sets him apart—and it may very well be what sets another championship trophy on his mantel.