I have a nasty habit every time I run a coaching course of asking the participants whether they use in their programs back home any of the drills or protocols we have examined throughout the day. Invariably, many will nod their head and say, “Oh, we already do that.”

I’m no fool. Based on comments, feedback, and looks I receive during the course, and on the technical performance of the coaches, I pretty much know that they are not “already doing that.” Often, I am supported by other coaches more familiar with the ones who claim they are “already doing that.”  They’ll make eye contact with me, sometimes offer a mild smile or laugh, and shake their head in the negative, indicating that coach x is misrepresenting the facts.

Why do people claim to do something when they don’t?  The quick and easy answer is that they feel the need to look competent in front of other coaches. This may be valid for a few, but I believe the truth is that most coaches, and most players too, simply have poor observational and analytical skills. This makes it difficult to grasp and see the differences between what people think they do and what they actually do.  Unless you have an audio-visual recording of your coaching, or fights, it is difficult to fully understand what you do. You may think you are doing a, b, and c, while in fact you are actually doing d, e, and f. Seeing is believing.

One of the examples I use to show the inconsistencies between how one trains and how one actually does Judo is O soto gari. I demonstrate it two ways: the classical way in which you step forward, and the competitive way in which you drive off the back leg. Then I ask the participants to tell me the differences. Nobody gets it right. Poor analytical skills.

Several years ago, an exchange student from Japan visited us for several weeks. I asked him what his tokui waza was. He said Hane goshi, which was surprising considering that nobody does Hane goshi anymore. At practice, he performed very explosive sets of uchi komi with Hane goshi. He however didn’t use this throw during randori. I became suspicious. He had a video of some university competitions he had participated in, so I sat down and looked at it. Sure enough, no Hane goshi, but plenty of Uchi mata that had no resemblance to the Hane goshi he practiced. When I pointed this out to him, he was taken aback. Had he watched his video even once, he surely should have realized that he practiced one skill, but performed another. No analytical skills.

Then, there are the students I correct during practice, only to be told, “But I’m already doing that,” to which I typically reply, “Well if you were doing that, I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you.”

In The Talent Code, Daniel Coyle devotes a section to the skills of master coaches. According to Coyle, the second virtue of master coaches is perceptiveness.

Several master coaches have told me that they train their eyes to be like cameras, and they share that same Panavision quality. Though the gaze can be friendly, it’s not chiefly about friendship. It’s about information. It’s about figuring you out.

So what can we do to improve analytical and observational skills? How do we develop that Panavision capability?  For starters, within our coach education programs, we need to teach coaches how to observe, how to set aside any preconceived notions, what to look for, and what to do with the information they gather.

We must also devote more time dissecting videos, not only of Judo techniques and performance, but coaching performance and class management. Coaches throughout our country should be videotaping their classes to confirm what they are doing, or not doing.

Lastly, we must remember that the skills of master coaches are developed just like any other skill: over many hours and many years of deep, deliberate practice. Remember, it takes a minimum of 10,000 hours and ten years to achieve mastery. So get going. Practice, practice, and then practice some more.