Free The Score Takes Care of Itself by Bill Walsh

that’s what I saw. Until Bill got it up and running the way he wanted it, things were rough. He had his work cut out for him.
    Bill was a great observer and student who had the good fortune to work not only with the Oakland Raiders and San Diego Chargers but with one of the NFL’s great masterminds, Paul Brown at Cincinnati. Brown was ahead of the rest of the league when it came to organization of time and management of people. I believe Bill liked what he saw at Cincinnati and then extended it, refined it in his own way, so that he developed an advanced organizational philosophy in his mind.
    He liked tight management principles and wanted things clear and easily understood. This was important because Bill’s overall system was complex. For it to work, people had to understand it. Consequently, he was explicit in his instructions: “Here’s what we’re going to do and here’s how we’re going to do it.” Bill was very demanding in that respect, not just of players but of everyone in the organization.
    He had written a series of lectures for each department detailing what he expected in all ways—appearance, attitude, performance, and more. He had it written out in detail for scouts, assistant coaches, equipment men, groundskeepers, and trainers. Even secretaries got specific and lengthy instructions from Bill himself. Did I mention the players? That’s when he really got going.
    Here’s how comprehensive and detailed, big picture/little picture, he could be: I came to work my first day not wearing a tie. Bill liked to distinguish between coaches (no ties) and administration (ties). I was in administration, but I told him, “Bill, all of my ties have New York Giants helmets on them.” He smiled and said, “John, I guess you’re buying a new tie today.” The small detail of wearing a tie was connected to his big concept of being a first-class operation, not just in point production, but in appearance and behavior, which he believed preceded scoring touchdowns; and he spelled it out word by word. I bought a new tie.
    Meetings were held, and he would take an hour or two with every employee so they knew exactly what he expected of them, what he wanted them to do and how he wanted them to do it. He made it very clear. There was no confusion in their minds as to what he expected. And because he had such a marvelous background and such a keen eye for running things, he expected a lot. That included respect for one another within the organization—no cliques or hierarchy.
    After he established his “organization”—got people in place and on the same page—he allowed department heads to function and intervened only if he became dissatisfied with something. Bill had set up an outstanding support mechanism of talented people, and he really had nothing to worry about except football. Of course, that was plenty to worry about, especially when he was taking over a 2-14 team.
    Having said that, I will also say this: Bill Walsh was the king. And we knew it. He was the one in complete control. And he knew it. But the interesting thing about it was that he didn’t act like a king, no bowing and scraping required. Bill wanted to be called Bill; everyone was on a first-name basis, but within that informality he simply did not allow for casual execution of your job. There was intensity and urgency, a focus all the time, a tight ship. He was friendly, but he held himself in a certain manner so that you knew he was in charge.
    And why not? He took over a lousy situation. Eddie DeBartolo, the owner, needed somebody to come and grab that puppy by the throat and say, “Shape up or you’re out of here!” Bill did it without always stomping and screaming. He was demanding and tough, but people loved him even though he was insistent, a real stickler not only about playing football but about raising the image of the franchise from within.
    That’s where he started—by raising the self-image of the San Francisco 49ers