I still remember walking into my first team meeting as a head coach 23 years ago. I was ready to lead with intensity, armed with drills, tactics, and an overflowing playbook. I thought coaching was about control, discipline, and making sure every athlete knew I was the authority in the room.
But what I didn’t realize—what took me a few years to understand—was that every single athlete sitting in that room wore an invisible sign. A sign I couldn’t see then, but I see now, every day.
It read: “Make me feel loved.”
Back then, I believed leadership meant toughness. That success came from strict expectations and demanding discipline. I had grown up in a coaching culture that equated control with respect. And for a while, I led that way—stern, structured, always needing to be in control.
But something was missing.
I felt it in the disconnect between me and my players. I felt it in the tension during practices and the silence in team meetings. What I didn’t yet know was that while I was trying to lead their minds, I wasn’t reaching their hearts.
It wasn’t until much later that I discovered the truth: love—not toughness—is the heart of leadership.
And I know what you’re thinking: love? In sports? In leadership?
Yes. Because love isn’t soft. Love is strength. Love is the courage to care, to connect, to see your athletes not just as performers, but as people.
In The Leadership Challenge, James Kouzes and Barry Posner describe love as the soul of leadership. They write that love is what carries people through the hardest climbs—professional or personal. It’s love that gives courage in the face of adversity. Not authority. Not fear. Love.
And I saw that truth come alive in the words of Phil Jackson, the legendary NBA coach. He said, “It takes a number of critical factors to win... talent, creativity, intelligence, toughness, and luck. But if a team doesn’t have the most essential ingredient—love—none of those factors matter.”
That hit me.
Because as I grew, as I started shifting my focus from control to connection, everything began to change. I listened more. I asked more questions. I celebrated small wins. I opened up. And I watched my teams transform—because now, they felt seen. They felt valued. They felt heard. They felt loved.
That shift took vulnerability—and that’s no easy task in sports. We don’t often equate strength with softness. But as researcher Brené Brown reminds us, “Our ability to be daring leaders will never be greater than our capacity for vulnerability.” Vulnerability is not weakness. It’s showing up with your whole heart.
My mentor, Dr. Jerry Lynch, once told me, “We can’t connect head-to-head. We must connect heart-to-heart.” That’s the kind of connection that lasts. That’s the kind of leadership that matters.
Reframing leadership around love doesn’t mean we ignore performance. It means we redefine success. It’s not just the final score, or championships, or stats. Real success is found in the strength of your relationships, in the growth of your athletes as people, and in the impact you leave long after the game is over.
When love is present, teams thrive. Not just on the field, but in life.
So now, every time I enter a room, I see that invisible sign hanging above every athlete:
“Make me feel loved.”
And now, I answer that call. Not with just tactics and training, but with trust, care, connection, and most importantly, love.
That’s how we change the game.
That’s how we change lives.
That's how we change our world.
Thank you to all the parents and student-athletes for trusting me to be your coach. We will continue our journey and story together next year!
Love,
Coach Booth