Another Side of Mike McNees

When Marco city manager Mike McNees returned to Indiana University to celebrate the 50th anniversary of his 4 x 100 relay team's Big 10 Championship, he couldn’t help but remember the heartbreak of being a small-town Indiana coach’s son who was cut from his junior high basketball team. The reunion also reminded him of how he responded then, unwittingly creating a roadmap for the way he would respond to adversity for the rest of his life. 

 "I was born in a little town called Milan,” McNees said, "if you're a real sports junkie, you know Milan is the small town from the movie Hoosiers. They won the state championship over Muncie Central in 1954. I was born in 1955 and my dad moved to Milan to be assistant basketball coach." 

It doesn’t get any more storybook than growing up in the small town that Hoosier’s was based on. And having your dad as one of the team’s coaches makes it that much better.  

Well, McNees’s story doesn't quite go like the Hollywood version of Hoosiers. By the time he was ready to go out for the seventh-grade team, McNees’s dad had accepted a position as the high school principal in another small Indiana town, Brownsburg. It’s safe to say basketball was McNee’s life at that time. 

 "It was all about basketball,” McNees said. "My dad was a former coach who became a principal. Playing basketball in the yard. In the driveway. That was definitely a  huge part of my growing up.” 

But McNees’s dream quickly turned into a nightmare when he tried out for the team for the first time. 

“We played all the time, and I loved it,” McNees said. "And it was really the first team we ever had. You weren't allowed to have organized teams in those days before seventh grade. So, the first time I was ever able to go out for the team, I actually got cut as a seventh grader. It was the worst thing in my life. My world just collapsed because I was a skinny little kid, but I was not smart enough to know it. I was destroyed.” 

Instead of giving up, McNees went to talk to the coach. 

“I wanted to salvage something of it,” he said, "all my friends were on the team. I went back to the coach and asked him if I could be a student manager because he said if anybody wanted to be a student manager, they could. He said, ‘Well, you know, you were the last guy I cut. I know you were trying really hard. Why don't I just put you on the team?” 

So, he started his career as a benchwarmer. It’s a status that would stick with him for four years. 

“He told me, 'You'll be my last guy,’ McNees said. "So, I sat there as the last guy on the bench in seventh grade, eighth grade, ninth grade, and 10th grade. And I would play in garbage time if we were way ahead or way behind. I might get two minutes. That would have been a long one. But that's all I ever played.” 

During his four years as a benchwarmer, McNees slowly added size. His determination finally paid off his junior year of high school. 

“The first game of my junior year in high school,” McNees said, "I started on the varsity. Oh, it felt fantastic." 

McNees figures he was the happiest guy on the team. 

"Oh, absolutely,” he said, “Because all I did in the summertime was go to work and play basketball till dark every day. It's all I did. I didn't have dates. I didn't do anything else. I played basketball. So by that time, I grew a little bit. And by the time I made my junior year, I finally was good enough to play. I got taller slowly. I finally got to be about 6’4”.  

McNees remembers running onto the court for the first time as a starter. His father the principal—and basketball coach—was in the stands watching. Father and son had differing memories of that moment. 

“It's funny how I felt that first game,” said McNees.“ My version was when they called out the starting lineup that I trotted out on the court and, you know, I was the coolest guy in the county. My dad's version was that I was absolutely stiff as a board. With my arms straight out and my eyes big and I looked scared to death. So, his version and my version were completely different. I have no doubt his was more accurate because he told me that story after the game. He said, ‘Were you really as nervous as you looked like? You looked like you were scared to death out there.' And I'm sure I was because it was the first time I'd ever started a game. He knew better. The gym was full. There would have been 5,000 there.” 

McNees said there was no denying he was his father’s son. 

"I could probably be his clone,” McNees said matter of factly.  

While enjoying a solid high school basketball career, McNees was also competing in track, a sport his father also coached. 

“You're going to detect a theme because my track and my running are similar to my basketball story,” McNees said. "I attribute it to something I call my 'too stupid to quit' philosophy. I just showed up every day. I did the same work as everybody else. Worked as hard as I could. I aimed for basketball. I just loved it. I mean, I loved playing. There was nothing I wanted to do more than go down to the playground, to the courts at night. And as soon as I could get there, I'd play till until it was time to go to bed. And that's all I wanted to do. So, I mean, it was inevitable that I had to get better. And then we had a kid at Brownsburg that ended up going to Mississippi on a basketball scholarship. A 6’9” kid that was a really good player. When I grew a little bit, it got to where I was the second tallest guy on the court. That meant every night, all night, that's the guy I played against." 

McNees developed a shot he could score with against his taller teammate. 

"There was a guy that played for the Indiana Pacers in those days named Mel Daniels,” McNees said. “He was famous for a turnaround jump shot. He'd go to the spin on the baseline and fade away. And he could get that shot off over anybody. Well, I learned that turnaround jump shot. It's the only thing I could get that this guy Steve Downing couldn't block. And so I got to where I could keep that shot away from him. And it actually became a good weapon for me for a long time. I learned that I had to fight because the guy outweighed me by 50 pounds and was five inches taller. But it was really fun. And so every night, I'd beat my brains in against this guy—and I'd do it again in a second.” 

McNees also competed in track at Brownsburg with similar results. 

"So with track,” McNees said, "it was the same deal. I went out as a seventh grader, and in those days, probably the same today, if you're not really fast enough to run the 100 or the 200, and you don't have enough endurance to run the mile, you're going to run the 440. Today, it’s the 400 meters. I couldn't compete in 100 or 200. I didn't want to run the mile. So I ran the 440. I ran track as a seventh grader, eighth grader, ninth grader, and 10th grader without ever placing in a meet. I was one of those other guys dragging across the finish line after the race was over. I'd run the 440. I'd run my lap and get crushed. But my friends were on the team, so I went to practice every day. And then as a junior, I discovered hurdles, or they discovered me. And I started to grow up a little bit. And all of a sudden, in the first meet of my junior year, I won both hurdle races." 

All of a sudden, McNees was making his mark. 

“It was like a whole new world,” he said. "It was just all of a sudden, I wasn't that kid anymore who was coming in last place. All of a sudden, I won two races." 

McNees was thrilled. 

"Oh, it was unbelievable how it felt,” he said. “It was the same year I  finally started on the basketball team. Finally, I won two races after being the last guy on the team. Oh, it was pretty fantastic.” 

McNees was even mentioned in a neighboring community’s newspaper. 

"I read this article in the paper,” McNees said, "and this was the thing: it wasn't in our paper. It was in the Danville paper, this article picking who the favorites were for the sectionals. I was like, ‘Wow, they're writing about me in the other towns." 

Then came another confidence check for McNees when he was injured during a race. 

"I limped to the finish line,” he said, "and all the kids are laughing as I'm struggling to just get to the finish line. I should have just walked off. But I didn’t. I was just crushed because now I was that other kid again. So, in my senior year, I managed to stay healthy, and I won three county championships in three different events." 

McNees was hoping to play college basketball but instead packed his bags for Indiana University. 

"I went there because nobody wanted me to come and play basketball for them,” McNees said. “It was kind of a different game. I grew up the tallest guy on the team, having to play center. If they played basketball then the way they play it now, I would have been a much more valuable commodity. I was a pretty good shooter. But 165-pound centers didn't have a big future. Which is what I was, 6’5", 165 at one point. That's not much. You're gonna get pushed around. 

“So, I ended up going to IU. I had my choice. Dad said you can go to any school you want as long as it's an Indiana state school and I get in-state tuition. I showed up down there as a freshman in August. I went in to talk to the track coaches, thinking that I could get a workout program and I could work out over the winter, through the fall and over the winter and then be ready to come and try to walk onto the track team in the spring. I went in there and filled out a form. The funniest thing I did was improve my high school times by a little bit. When I had to write what I did, I fudged them a little bit. But I was too ignorant to know that even the times I made up weren't nearly good enough for them to pay any attention. The assistant coach was there, Aubrey Dooley. He said, ‘We allow anyone to walk on. You come to practice every day and you can stay. You miss two practices and we pick up your gear. I'm like, ‘Okay, that's fair enough.’” 

As a coach’s son, McNees wouldn’t think of missing practice. 

"I never miss practice,” McNees said, "sick or whatever. That I got from my dad. Coach Dooley said, ‘Here, take this card down to the equipment room and Warren will give you some gear. Practice is today at 3:00." 

McNees was stunned. Not only was he on the track team at IU, but he was presented a full complement of equipment adorned with the IU logo. 

“It was one of those moments you never forget,” McNees said. "I walk out of that fieldhouse with an arm full of gear, including red Indiana track sweats that said Indiana Track. And, you know, you think about it. You understand the small town thing. This isn't Brownsburg. This is Indiana University. I'm like, ‘Whoa, what am I doing here?' I can't even say it in a few words. It was just almost beyond my belief that I was standing there holding this practice uniform. This is a Big Ten school. What am I doing here? 

"So I show up for my first day at track practice in my basketball shoes, 6’5", 165, soaking wet. And I met the fastest high school high hurdler in the country from the year before. And the guy that two years later would be the NCAA 400-meter champion. Those are the first two guys I met. And they treated me like I was just one of them. They didn't make fun of me. They didn't do anything. They took me in. I was one of the guys from the first minute. Oh, it was unbelievable. And I’ve profusely thanked both of them later in life.” 

As a freshman, McNees only got to participate in a couple of home meets with poor results. But that did not deter the determined small town boy. 

"Just being able to wear the uniform and compete in the meet was, you know, beyond any expectation I ever had,” he said. "That was amazing in itself.” 

McNees feels his years as a benchwarmer helped him to persevere. 

“Absolutely,” he said. "I had in the back of my mind a clear idea that before I was done my goal was to qualify for the national championships by the time I graduated. There was no realistic path for that. But based on where I'd been before with my basketball and with track, all the years of being the last guy on the team and then finally having some success, I understood how it worked. I never had a pathway forward or a plan for it, but I knew I was going to show up every day and make the traveling team. And then at some point, I wanted to qualify and run the nationals. As a sophomore, I finally made the traveling team. It was really aggravating because the coach didn't take me on spring break. He took another hurdler and I was mad. And my teammates were mad because they thought I deserved it more than this other guy. But that just lit me up more." 

Some guys, when you put them down, they're crushed. Other guys, you put them down and they're going to fight harder. McNees was a fighter. 

"That's me,” McNees said. "I ended up scoring some points here and there. I scored some points in the hurdles. I got to be on the travel team. We won the Big Ten indoor championship as a team. So, I was a part of that. That was a huge deal.” 

McNees got a surprise during the indoor season his senior year. 

"Somehow in the indoor season of my senior year, he threw me in there,” McNees said. "And it's like a big light bulb went off because I ended up being one of our four best 400 guys. I ended up on the relay team and scored some points indoors, which wasn't really my forte. And then once outdoors came, we were pretty good. I was among the highest scorers on the team.  

The IU track team had a great Big 10 meet that year.  

“We won the Big 10,” McNees said, "set a meet record. It was the last home meet of my senior year, and we really wanted to win that meet. In the last event of the last home meet, we won that 440 relay. So, I got the Big Ten championship and we qualified for the nationals. That team went and ran in the NCAA championships.” 

McNees reflects back on his struggles as a young athlete, being cut from his junior high basketball team and finishing last in race after race in track, and realizes it helped to make him the man he is today. 

“If you ask me what one thing most informs my philosophy of how I live,” McNees said, "it's that just show up every day, do what you're supposed to do in the right way, do it as well as you can. And eight years later, you're an overnight success. That's the whole deal for me. That's how I'm wired. And it's all informed by that." 

It still manifests itself, some 50 years later, as he leads the City of Marco Island. 

“Absolutely,” he said. "It's the same thing. Show up every single day. Do the right things. Do them the best way you can. Everything will take care of itself. It's what I talk to the department heads about. I have interviewed for jobs like this many times, and I always tell councils the same thing. 'If you want somebody who's going to bring revolutionary change, and have a new program every year, and have big flashy explosive changes, I am not your guy. If you want somebody who's going to show up every day and do the hard work that you've got to do to make evolutionary change, then I'm your guy. And it's all from those experiences I had in seventh grade." 

McNees’ father had a profound impact on his life, both as an athlete and a city manager. 

“He was a cross-country coach when he started out,” McNees said. "And then he was a basketball coach, and he became an administrator. Watching him as a small town high school principal, I learned a lot about being in the public eye and being criticized. The high school in a small town is a big deal. The superintendent and the principal are very visible. Open to criticism a lot. I learned a lot watching him about how public service was important. He was Lions Club president, Rotary Club president, you name it. Chamber of Commerce president. Eventually, he wasn't teaching anymore. He was always in some sort of leadership role. So, watching him get criticized and how he dealt with that was huge. Fundamentally, that's the thing I got from him and from his dad. You just show up every day, you don't complain. You show up every day, do what you're supposed to do, and everything will take care of itself." 

McNees accepts that he will receive criticism in his role as city manager. 

"Part of the deal,” he said flatly. "And I do this willingly. And a lot of times I'll say 'people aren't really mad at me. They're mad at the chair I sit in.' There's some things I have to do. People don't like it. They don't like it more because it's part of the job. I just try not to take it personally. Sometimes people make it hard, but I just try not to take it personally." 

And about almost becoming a track All-American at IU? McNees looks at that as one of life’s building blocks. 

‘That relay team won the Big 10 and set a school record,” McNees said. "Set a Big 10 meet record and qualified for the nationals. And then we made it all the way to the semifinals. And then I ran very poorly and we didn't make the finals.” 

He questions his training. 

“My training peaked for the Big 10 meet,” he said. “Probably too much rest and not enough training immediately after nationals or a couple of weeks later. For whatever reason, I was just out of gas. I just didn't have it. I mean, I didn't panic, I didn't freak out. I just didn't have it. I ran slow. We almost made the final anyway. But we didn't quite make it. If I'd run even close to my normal, we would have made the finals easy. I had my chance at the nationals, and I had a chance to compete to be an All- American, which was what was on the line. That's what I really, really, really, really wanted. I wanted to graduate as an All-American, and we didn't make it. And it was because of me and those three guys. The other three on the team had two more years together, and they never got any faster. That relay team never got any faster than what we ran that day. Definitely the biggest athletic failure I ever had. I had a lot of them, but that one was on the biggest stage. It was just deflating. It was my last chance. I was a senior. And so I felt like, gee, I was just getting started. I was just getting there. And I was glad that I'd been there because that was had been one of my sort of stretch goals to eventually qualify for the nationals. So I got to go and I got to be there, but it was pretty deflating to feel like I had a chance to go further. But it wasn't like it was close. For whatever reason, there was nothing in the tank. I just kind of accept it. Mostly, I wished I had another year to go through it again and make adjustments. But it's not how it goes. You're done." 

McNees felt he let his teammates down. 

"I did,” he said solemnly. "Oh, I definitely did. That was mitigated by the fact that they were all coming back. So I figured they're going to get somebody to replace me, and they're going to get a lot faster, even though they didn't. And they all did fine. Among them they won a bunch of Big Ten championships. One guy won an Olympic medal, so I didn't hold him back." 

McNees acknowledges that the goals he achieved in sports, through determination, helped him become a high achiever in his government career. 

"I guess when I think about playing basketball in the yard,” McNees said, "I don't know whether I ever got goal-oriented as much as I got competitive. Maybe it's the same thing. Playing basketball in the yard, you get competitive and you play harder. Now I got cut from the team. Now I want to make the team and that becomes a goal. And okay, well now I'm on the team, but I suck. Now I want to play. And so it's just kind of progressive. Whatever comes naturally in the flow from doing it, that's what you want to do next. So I guess that sort of evolves into being goal-oriented. I never thought about it that way. You’ve got to believe in the process. You can't focus too much on where you're trying to get because then you're not in the moment. You're not in today. You've got to live in today, and you've got to do the right thing today. And then the goal will take care of itself. Yeah. So it's more of that, I think.” 

McNees pulls a neatly typewritten page from a 50-year-old envelope. It’s an evaluation sheet from his IU track coach, Sam Bell. 

"Sam didn't pull any punches,” McNees said with a chuckle. "If you sucked, he told you. He would always write who scored points, who had a great effort. He would write, 'poor competitive effort’ or 'completely out to lunch.’ It was always entertaining to see what Sam was going to write. This is the comment sheet at the end of the very last meet that the full team participated in before the nationals. He would write comments on all the seniors. This is what Sam wrote. I never showed this to anybody before." 

The coach didn’t pull any punches in his assessment of McNees. 

Mike McNees: Your high school credentials were such that you should never have been out for track on our level. Someone forgot to tell you that. So you just kept working and came to a point where you ran 47.6 seconds in an open 400 millimeter after a 52.8 in high school. Scored in the intermediate hurdles in the Big Ten and ran on our school record 1600 meter relay team. You're an example of what people can do with talents if they will work to develop them. I know you'll have much success at whatever you try."  

“That means as much to me as anything anybody ever said about me,” McNees said. "That’s why I pulled this out. That means as much to me as anything that's ever happened. The fact that he said that. That makes every bit of effort like it's nothing. It's a big deal to me."