From Misfit Toys to National Champions

I arrived at Indiana University in Bloomington as an 18-year-old kid from Toledo, Ohio — equal parts hopeful, hungry, and overwhelmed.

I came looking for knowledge.
Friendships.
Adventure.
A bigger world.

What I found was something even better:

Belonging.

Indiana gave me lifelong friendships.
It gave me Copenhagen, Denmark.
It gave me stories I still carry.
It gave me my chosen family.

And last night, at Hard Rock Stadium in Miami Gardens, Florida, I experienced something I’ll never forget:

The Indiana Hoosiers won the National Championship.

A perfect 16–0 season.
A story that sounds like fiction until you’re standing there watching it unfold.

I laughed.
I cried.
I screamed so much I’m hoarse today.

No regrets. Not one.

Because this wasn’t just a football win.

This was a culture win.
A leadership win.
A belonging win.

Yes, the athleticism was incredible.
Yes, the performance was elite.
Yes, the pressure was real.

But what moved me most wasn’t just what happened on the field.

It was how it happened.

I watched a team respond to adversity without turning on each other.
I watched young men reset after mistakes instead of spiraling.
I watched composure, grit, and trust show up in moments where fear could have taken over.

This was Emotional Intelligence at full speed:

That doesn’t just magically happen.

That gets built.

Choice by choice.
Practice by practice.
Conversation by conversation.
Moment by moment.

After decades leading teams, building brands, and coaching leaders across industries, I can tell you this with full confidence:

The best teams rarely look perfect at first glance.

They look like a patchwork quilt.

Different backgrounds. Different stories. Different styles.
Some overlooked. Some doubted. Some underestimated.
A few who don’t fit the “traditional mold.”

They look — in the most loving way possible — like a land of misfit toys.

And yes, my Disney years are showing here, because I learned something important long ago:

The misfit toys aren’t broken.

They’re just waiting for a place where they don’t have to pretend.

They’re waiting for a place where they can belong.

That’s what this Indiana team became.

Not a collection of individual talent…

…but a shared identity.

This championship was built by a full ecosystem — players, coaches, staff, families — all choosing the same mission.

Coach Curt Cignetti.
QB Fernando Mendoza.
DB D’Angelo Ponds.
Aiden Fisher.
Charlie Becker.
Elijah Sarratt.
Jamari Sharpe.
Amare Ferrell.
Nico Radicic.

…and so many more who showed up, locked arms, and made history.

And here’s what I want to say clearly:

This wasn’t one star carrying the team.

This was a team becoming the star.

That’s rare.

That’s leadership.

I’m going to translate what Indiana just did into leadership lessons you can use anywhere: the boardroom, the classroom, the studio, the nonprofit, the kitchen table.

Because what I witnessed last night wasn’t just execution.

It was culture.

A lot of leaders still treat belonging like a perk.
An extra.
A soft concept for HR posters and “awareness months.”

Indiana proved the opposite.

Belonging is operational.

When people feel safe and seen:

Belonging isn’t fluff.

Belonging is fuel.

Fear can drive short-term results.

But it can’t build something sustainable.

The best teams hold high standards and treat people like human beings while chasing them.

That combination creates:

This Indiana team didn’t just play hard.

They played connected.

Every championship story has moments where it could have unraveled.

A missed tackle.
A penalty at the wrong time.
A drive that stalls.

Great leaders don’t ignore those moments.

They name reality — and then they steady the energy.

They reset.

They stay present.

They bring people back to center.

That’s what maturity looks like.
That’s what leadership looks like.
That’s what winning teams do when it matters most.

The truth about great teams is that the glory is visible…
but the commitment is mostly invisible.

The backup who prepares like a starter.
The teammate who blocks so someone else shines.
The staff member who keeps the whole machine running.
The parents and families holding the emotional weight behind the scenes.

This title wasn’t built on a moment.

It was built on thousands of small decisions to show up and serve the whole.

That’s how you make history.

People underestimate joy.

Joy isn’t soft.

Joy is stamina.

Joy is what lets you work hard without becoming hardened.
Joy is what makes effort sustainable.
Joy is what keeps teams hungry without turning toxic.

Last night wasn’t just triumphant.

It was joyful.

And that joy was earned.

At some point in this Indiana journey, Coach Curt Cignetti said something that stuck with me — not as a football quote, but as a life statement:

He talked about taking the job at 63, embracing the challenge, and refusing to slow down.

And then he said, in essence:

“I was 63 years old when I took the job. I was too young to stop growing. I wanted the challenge.”

That line landed for me because it captures a truth so many leaders forget:

We don’t age out of growth.
We don’t retire from curiosity.
We don’t hit a point where learning stops being necessary.

If anything, the older we get… the more important it becomes.

Because staying curious is what keeps us grounded.
Staying curious is what keeps us relevant.
Staying curious is what keeps us human.

That quote felt personal to me — because it’s how I’ve tried to live:

Keep learning.
Keep evolving.
Keep asking better questions.
Keep widening the lens.

We are never done.

Not as leaders.
Not as learners.
Not as humans.

And last night Indiana reminded me of that in the loudest, most emotional way possible.

Because Indiana isn’t just where I went to school.

Indiana is where I became myself.

It’s where I learned what it feels like to be part of something bigger than your hometown story.
Bigger than your fear.
Bigger than your doubt.

And watching this team create that same kind of belonging for a new generation?

That cracked me open.

Because in a world that can feel increasingly cynical, divided, and performative…

this team reminded us what’s still possible:

People with different backgrounds can become family.
Work can be demanding without becoming dehumanizing.
High performance can coexist with kindness.
Culture is still the ultimate competitive advantage.

This wasn’t just a championship.

It was proof of life.

Here’s what Indiana just taught every leader in every industry:

Ask yourself:

And then the big one:

Are we building a team that can win… and stay human doing it?

Because Indiana just showed us:

That’s not only possible.

It’s powerful.

And if you listen closely — beneath the confetti, the roar, the fight song, the disbelief — you can hear what this season was really saying:

This wasn’t just about football.
This was about identity.
Belonging.
Becoming.

A group of young men decided to trust each other fully… before the world trusted them at all.
A coaching staff decided culture mattered more than hype.
Families decided sacrifice was worth it.
A community decided to believe again.

And Coach Cignetti reminded us of the real secret:

You grow by choosing the challenge.

You don’t age out of becoming.
You don’t retire from curiosity.
You don’t stop learning if you want to keep leading.

This season wasn’t just a championship.

It was a masterclass.

And for every person watching who needed proof that the “impossible” is still available…

Consider this your reminder:

It is.

Go Hoosiers. Forever. ❤️🤍