A team is a sacred thing. Ask anyone from any squad and they’ll tell you—it’s about the collective, not the individual.
The concept of team is one of the reasons why playing sports is so fundamental. I love the lessons team teaches so much that I built an entire podcast on the subject! (At this point I’m contractually obligated to ask you to subscribe, like and comment!!)
But when someone forgets the sacrosanct nature of a team, that person sticks out like a sore thumb. Unfortunately for UConn’s Dan Hurley, he’s fitting that description more and more often.
Don’t get me wrong, the 53-year-old college basketball coach is already a legend. Not only does he come from a famous basketball family—his father is a Hall of Fame high school coach and his brother was an iconic player at Duke—but as the coach of UConn, he won back to back NCAA titles in 2023 and 2024.
But more recently, watching UConn games has turned into the Dan Hurley Show and it’s not going great.
On Saturday, Hurley was tossed in a nailbiter for arguing with an official. A ref said Hurley bumped him during the heated exchange and that’s why he called the second technical foul. Hurley disputes the claim.
The technicalities don’t matter. The technicals do.
And Hurley got his with one second left in a tight contest, a contest his team might have been able to win until their coach unraveled. That can’t happen. In what was a two-point game with precious few ticks left, Hurley’s actions gave UConn’s opponent—Marquette—extra free-throws. UConn lost 68-62.
To no one’s surprise, Hurley blamed the refs even after the game, too. Sadly, it’s moments like Saturday that make those who care about him concerned. On top of that, he’s costing his team—that most sacred of things.
I appreciate Dan. Watching him steward the UConn program has been remarkable. As a writer, I’ve never had a bad interaction with him. I loved his book, written with my friend Ian O’Connor. But moments like those over the weekend—and other recent Hurley explosions—make you worry.
As a leader, there have been few better than Hurley. But that sheen is eroding. With the loss on Saturday, UConn was kept from sharing the Big East regular-season title with No. 18 St. John’s. The team also probably lost a shot at a number one seed in the NCAA Tournament.
Not good. Perhaps the $25k fine issued by the Big East Sunday or the upcoming postseason will change things for Hurley. Perhaps he’ll remember himself and what set him apart from his peers in recent years. But there are those who fear he might not turn it around.
Over the years, I’ve interviewed thousands of folks, from MVPs to champions to CEOs of Fortune 500 companies, and one thing I’ve learned is that no one—especially a leader—should put themselves ahead of the team.
The reason a team is sacred is simply because it’s more important than any single person. And if a team is to achieve its lofty goals, those who comprise it must work together, as if rowing a boat in the same direction.
One thing you learn covering the world of golf, which I’ve had the good fortune of doing throughout my years as a sportswriter, is that everyone has a bad stretch. The key for champions is they know how to shorten the length of that stretch.
Golf is perhaps the most unforgiving sport on the planet. In one moment, you can strike a ball so true it makes you believe in heaven on earth. Then the next can make you believe in, well, the opposite.
No one knows this better than Rory McIlroy.
The Irish-born golfer just won his second-consecutive Masters on Sunday, making him the first to win the coveted tournament in back-to-back years since Tiger Woods a quarter century ago.
But the victory didn’t come easy. Not by a long shot.
After the tournament’s first two rounds, McIlroy was up big. He had a historic six-stroke lead over the rest of the field. Then in the third round it evaporated.
By the end of that round, McIlroy looked like he might squander the biggest cushion in Masters history.
“I didn’t quite have it today,” McIlroy said meekly after Saturday’s round.
But what a difference a day makes.
On Sunday, McIlroy steadied himself. And won.
But how did he do it?
Those who’ve ever walked the links know that when you’re struggling, the hope is not to let it snowball. You don’t want two bad holes to become four. Or four to become… a legacy defining failure.
Golf is as much a game of what’s between the ears as it is about navigating fairways and putting greens.
For years, McIlroy had a reputation for badly timed meltdowns. While he was always one of the world’s best, he struggled finishing tournaments. The Masters, especially.
It took the golfer over a decade to win the tournament to complete his career Grand Slam.
And over the weekend, McIlroy risked becoming the face of loss again. Thankfully for him, he changed the narrative.
But McIlroy didn’t do it with one swing of the club.
Instead, he put together a stretch of good play one shot at a time, fending off American golfer Scottie Scheffler, hot on his heels.
In a single weekend, McIlroy proved an important lesson: In golf, and in life, you aren’t your last shot.
When he was on a hot streak during the tournament’s first two days, that didn’t shield him from a poor Saturday. And a poor Saturday didn’t ultimately mean he’d lose the whole thing.
Whether you just hit a good shot or bad one—in golf, it’s all about the next chance.
That shows up in other sports, too. I wrote about the subject with my friend Bernie Banks in the new book The New Science of Momentum: How the Best Coaches and Leaders Build a Fire from a Single Spark.
In 2017, New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady faced a 28-3 deficit against the Atlanta Falcons. Like McIlroy, Brady faced historic failure.
But also like McIlroy, Brady knew he couldn’t win the game in a single throw.
“I was sitting on the sideline saying to myself you are getting your butt embarrassed,” Brady recalled years later. “Go out and do something. Let’s just get one touchdown.”
Brady looked forward. He was concerned with the next play.
McIlroy didn’t wallow in what had happened either. Like Brady, he didn’t lament in failure.
He looked to the next opportunity.
“I’d like to think that I’ll play a little bit freer and I’ll play, you know, like I’ve already got a green jacket, which I do. Sometimes I just have to remind myself of that,” McIlroy said Saturday after losing his big lead. “I wish I was a few shots better off, but I’m comfortable. … I just know I need to be better tomorrow to have a chance.”
It’s a lesson for all of us.
Indeed, it’s important to take stock.
What perspective are we bringing to our day? How are we looking at what’s ahead? Are we focused on yesterday’s loss, or are we thinking about how our next shot can be our best?
It can be so easy to live in the result of your last attempt, whatever it might be.
But if we do that, we just might miss out on the next shot at making history.
