When the Philadelphia Eagles hired Doug Pederson as the team’s head coach in January 2016, and owner Jeffrey Lurie cited Pederson’s “emotional intelligence” as the key factor in the choice, I rolled my eyes. These pampered multi-millionaires, who perennially broke Eagles fans’ hearts, didn’t need hugs, this fan remembers thinking. They needed a coach who would make them earn their contracts and finally win a fraking Super Bowl!
A little over two years later, when New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady’s last-second pass fell to the turf incomplete, I was proven wrong in a spectacular and glorious fashion. Against all odds, Pederson led the Eagles to their first Super Bowl victory and, in the process, defeated one of the NFL’s greatest dynasties.
It turned out that Lurie was spot on, and as a long-suffering fan, it made me rethink the concept of emotional intelligence as a whole, and in particular, its role in building trust. Even in an industry in which big, strong men hit and tackle each other for a living, emotional intelligence – the ability to handle interpersonal relationships judiciously and empathetically – is essential to success. Moreover, when the proverbial game is on the line, emotional intelligence is critical, because people need to have enough trust in each other to make big, often momentous, decisions.
Perhaps no moment encapsulates this more than the now-famous “Philly Special” trick play the Eagles successfully executed at the end of the first half of Super Bowl LII. Flash back to February 4, 2018. It’s Fourth and Goal and the Eagles face a choice. Kick a field goal and secure an easy three points or roll the dice and go for a touchdown.
Nick Foles, the Eagles' backup quarterback filling in for injured starter Carson Wentz, jogs over to the sideline where Coach Pederson stands. As Foles approaches, Pederson is pointing at his play sheet and opens his mouth to give the QB a play, when Foles speaks first, “You want ‘Philly, Philly?’”
The coach pauses for a second, looks away from the play sheet and up at Foles. He then calmly replies, “Yeah, let’s do it.”
With those four words, Pederson showed his quarterback not only that he believed in him, but that he believed in the entire team. You don’t call a trick play in the Super Bowl on Fourth and Goal – or rather allow your backup quarterback to call the play – unless you have absolute trust in your players. This doesn’t happen overnight. It is a trust built upon months of practice, countless discussions between a coach and players, and a grueling 16-game season filled with uplifting victories and heart-wrenching defeats. The trust they forged gave Foles the confidence to ask for the play, and Pederson the confidence to go with it. This is an example of the emotional intelligence that distinguished Pederson from his predecessor. Players knew that, as their coach, he respected their opinions and valued their input.
The trust they forged gave Foles the confidence to ask for the play, and Pederson the confidence to go with it.
Like sports, life sometimes brings us to a crossroads. Whether we take the riskier path or the safer one, our course of action will affect the future in significant, and perhaps irrevocable, ways. If our relationships with the people whom we are sharing the journey – boss, spouse, or teammate – are based upon mutual, earned trust, however, we will be less afraid to fail. No matter the outcome, we know they will stand with us.
Stephen R. Covey, the author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, said, “Trust, or lack of it, is at the root of success or failure in relationships and in the bottom-line results of business.” Trust, of course, doesn’t come easily. Like the Super Bowl LII Champions, it takes time and effort. But it’s worth it. Though not all victories are Super Bowl-level, and not all risks are as crazy and glorious as the Philly Special, imagine the mutual peace of mind you will have earned when your colleague, friend, or spouse comes to you with an idea that diverges from the safer path and you pause only briefly before saying, “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Beautiful!