If This Were Film, We’d Fix It

A lot of people might look at this mashup and say I’m “ambulance chasing” or cherry-picking headlines to prove a point. While I understand that assumption, I push back—hard.

The headlines above are all from just the last three weeks in U.S. sports news. I didn’t have to dig. I just searched “male athletes + violence + perpetration and/or victimization.” That was enough to surface five major incidents. You—or your players—probably saw them on an ESPN feed or while scrolling X. Maybe you clicked if the player or team meant something to you. But here’s the point: we’re numb to it.

We almost expect this.

If I stripped the names and just posted in bold:
RAPE.
HIT & RUN.
MURDER.
MURDERED.
ASSASSINATED.
Would that make anyone pause longer? I doubt it.

I do now. Because once you know, you can’t unknow. And what I now KNOW is this:

Men and violence are too often linked.
Male athletes are too often involved in, or victims of, violence off the court or field.
And we tend to label them “bad apples,” shake our heads, and move on.

That would never fly in practice. If you were breaking down film and saw two of your 13 defensive backs with bad footwork, would you say, “Well, most of them got it right. Good enough”?

Of course not.

You’d tag it, show it, teach it, and build a fix into the next session.

So why don’t we coach conduct with the same urgency?

I won’t launch into a full-on soliloquy here—blogs are short—but here’s the bottom line:
If you’ve embedded TeamsOfMen curriculum and sessions into your season, at the very least you can credibly say: “We tried to address this. We attempted to build people.”

Because sweating through a scrimmage doesn’t equal character development.
If you’re reading this and thinking, “What could TeamsOfMen possibly do to prevent this stuff?”
That’s the first question in a series we walk coaches through—
And it ends with you wearing our gear, reading our books, and running 10–12 minute sessions with your guys that change everything.

Keep going.

If You Don’t Know the Language, You Can’t Know the Harm

I watched this TikTok today (link here)—a dad listing slang he knows, and his teenage daughter correcting him with the new version. It’s lighthearted, funny, and honestly… revealing.

Because if I don’t know that “huzz” means “girls”
or “chopped” means “ugly” how in the world would I recognize it when my players are saying harmful things about women in front of me?

This isn’t just a video for parents. It’s for coaches, too.
Teachers. Mentors. Anyone trying to lead.

We can’t teach or unlearn with our players if we can’t speak their language.
We can’t call them up to a better standard if we’re stuck translating every sentence or pretending it doesn’t matter.

And to be clear—this isn’t about playing “Gotcha!”
It’s not about collecting slang so we can bust them for what they say. It’s about building a culture of shared understanding—where curiosity, connection, and clarity matter more than just barking rules or clinging to “what worked for us.”

Because when we understand what words mean to our guys—why they use them, what they signal—we can actually ask better questions.

• Why that word?

• What do you think it communicates?

• How do you think it lands?

• Where did you hear it first?

• Would you say it in front of your mom? Your girlfriend? Your coach?

You can even flip the script. Share some your old language and let your guys roast it. Lean into the awkward. Laugh with them. Then pivot to the real talk.

Because relationship ≠ authority. And without relationship, authority is empty anyway.

Coach Prompt:
When was the last time you asked your players to teach you something about how they talk?

Player Prompt:
What’s a word you use that you know could be misunderstood—or be hurtful to someone else? Where’d it come from?

“Men WILL Speak Up” — But Only If We Equip Them To

I’m posting this today for two reasons.

First, out of deep respect for Professor Michael Flood—someone I’ve learned from for years. His work on violence prevention, reimagining masculinity, and what it means for men to hold each other accountable is unmatched. He’s prolific (papers, toolkits, social posts), and if you’re a coach who cares about building men, you should be following him.
📌 @MichaelGLFlood on X
📌 XYOnline Author Page

Second, because this one post of his—listing five reasons why men should speak up when their friend is being abusive or sleazy—is the game.

Flood’s Five Reasons to Speak Up

1. Because the behavior is wrong and does harm.

2. Because you were there. You witnessed it.

3. “The standard you walk past is the standard you accept.”

4. You’re their friend—and have a chance to help them grow.

5. They’ll listen to you more than anyone else.

Let’s sit with #3 and #4 for a minute.

Most coaches I know have used a version of #3 to yell about locker room messes or lazy reps: “If you don’t correct it, you condone it!”

But how many of us apply that to the language our players use? The jokes in the locker room? The “she’s for everyone” comments on the bus?

And #4? That’s what friendship is supposed to mean.
Not silence. Not “I got your back, so I’ll just stand here while you say something reckless.” But support—real support—means pushing each other toward better.

Now, I’ll be honest: I don’t love every suggestion from the “Men Speak Up” handout (attached below).
The “what if it was your sister?” trope can reinforce the same possessive nonsense we’re trying to undo.
But I do love that it gives guys actual phrases to use.

Because this is where we lose the moment:

“I know I’m supposed to speak up... but I don’t know what to say.”

Let’s change that.
Find 2–3 phrases you believe in.Teach them to your players.
Role-play it. Let them try it. Let them fumble it.
And most importantly—let them see that standing up doesn’t mean standing alone.

Coach Prompt:
How do you prepare your guys to interrupt harm in the moment? What phrases have you given them to say?

Player Prompt:
What’s something you’ve heard or seen a teammate say that didn’t sit right—and how could you respond next time?

When Was the Last Time You Were First?

This one hits hard:

“When was the last time you were the first to stand up and say:
‘No. What you said—or did—was wrong.’”

Being first is uncomfortable.
Being only can feel unbearable.

After you speak out, you might not see anyone standing next to you. You might post something and hear crickets. That tension? That unease? That’s the point. It’s the cost of conviction—or the mirror you need to rethink your stance.

Too often, we claim “leadership” but only walk well-trodden paths. We ask others to be bold while we move safely with the pack.

We speak up about easy topics—and go silent when our values are really tested.

This reflection isn’t about perfection. It’s not a promise that every flag you plant is righteous.

It’s a chance to actually meet yourself. In the moment. In the discomfort. In the risk.

Coach Prompt:
When’s the last time you stood up FIRST in a team setting—and not just on a safe issue, but on something that made people uncomfortable?

Player Prompt (Optional):

Have you ever watched something wrong happen—and looked around to see if someone else would say something first?

Shared Language = Shared Boundaries

I didn’t pick this graphic just because we covered consent yesterday. I picked it because we, as coaches, already live by the rule that words matter.

We build entire systems around shared language.
• Football: route trees, blitz pickups
• Basketball: closeouts, screens, shell
• Baseball: hit-and-run, sacrifice, shift
It’s not just helpful — it’s essential. We don’t expect players to guess what we mean or hope they "figure it out." We teach it. Drill it. Quiz it. Because we know: words shape action. Verbiage fuels behavior.

So why not apply that same principle to this?

This graphic is an EASY, VITAL tool to help your players understand that these are not mixed signals, not “tests” to push past, and not phrases that a guy with “rizz” can charm his way through.

They are STOP SIGNS.
They are END POINTS.

If you’ve ever circled your team and delivered a “word of the day,” do it again. But this time, use one from this list. One a week. One minute. One word.

Teach consent the same way we teach cover-2.

Coach Prompt:
What’s one word or phrase from this list that you’ve never defined for your team — but you should have?

Player Prompt (Optional):
Have you ever been in a situation where someone said one of these — and you didn’t know what it meant, or didn’t know how to respond?

“Any Questions?” Isn’t a Strategy—It’s a Setup.

I saw this classroom graphic and immediately thought: this isn’t just about teachers—it’s about coaches. I think this is relevant to the work we do in #TeamsOfMen because as coaches we tend to use the phrase "make sense" or "any questions" (I know I always say "questions problems concerns") but then NEVER give real permission for any of those to take place with our guys.

The truth is, we often say these types of lines in timeouts or team practice right after we’ve steamrolled through 90 seconds of tactics. We don’t really want questions. We want compliance.
And if we’re doing that during something as simple as play design, imagine the message that sends when something deeper is on the line.

If our players don’t feel like they can ask about a rotation or speak up about a drill, how can we expect them to speak up about real-life stuff?

This list of re-phrased prompts isn’t just a teacher thing—it’s a list of invitations. Invitations to think, to explore, to question. Maybe they won't take that invitation at first. But if you never extend it? That’s on you.

Coach Prompt: “What’s your default phrase when you “open it up” to your players—and what would it sound like if you actually meant it?”

Optional Player Prompt: “What’s a time when you wanted to ask something in practice or film... but didn’t feel like it was really okay?”

#ThinkingEnvironment #CoachPrompt #Communication #TeamsOfMen #PracticeCulture

When Coaches Look Away (And Why Their Players Might Be Too)

There’s this quote I saved that I’ve never stopped thinking about:

“To locate the problem is to become the location of the problem.” – Sara Ahmed (via Nicole Bedera)

And in my experience as a coach for 23 years, I am FINE (maybe even eager) to use film and reflection to locate issues in our PLAY on the court. I want the film to show me who didn’t rotate correctly, who missed an assignment or why we turned the ball over.

But when it comes to character issues, we as a group tend to “choose the matrix” so to speak. Because to locate misogyny, to find racism, or to see harm being caused by our guys (or ourselves) to is to have to deal with it. And that is why this quote made our blog this AM.

What we let go—what we pretend not to hear—what we hope someone else addresses? That’s not culture. That’s avoidance.
If we want our players to grow, we’ve got to be willing to be the location. Not just for blame, but for change.

Coach Prompt: “What’s one “joke,” phrase, or behavior your team has normalized that you’ve never actually addressed?”

Optional Player Prompt: “When have you looked the other way—because calling something out felt too risky?”

#CoachPrompt #Accountability #SilenceCulture #PowerDynamics #EmotionalFluency

“Every Man Understands Consent.” Read That Again.

You ever see something online that hits you so hard you have to scroll back up and read it twice?

That was me with this:

“Touch his car. His phone. His wallet. His daughter. His ego. His reputation. His masculinity. Every man understands consent.” — Tim Gathima

Pair that with the photo of men wearing “Consent Is Simple” buttons at a rally, and you get something undeniable. Consent isn’t confusing. It’s just selectively respected.

That hits home for coaches, too. Because what we’re modeling in our programs isn’t just about dating or sexual boundaries—it’s about how we handle power, control, and respect in any context. Are we building environments where players feel safe saying “no”? To a drill? A bus conversation? A joke in the locker room?

Consent isn’t a lesson for them. It’s a mirror for us.

Coach Prompt: When’s the last time your players felt like they could say “No” to something you asked—without punishment, sarcasm, or backlash?

Optional Player Prompt: What’s one thing you’ve gone along with—on a team, in a group—because it felt like you couldn’t say no?

#Consent #CoachPrompt #PowerDynamics #EmotionalFluency #LockerRoomLeadership

“You’re Not Soft If You Say I Love You” — Lou Roe on What Calipari Gave Him

I was recently down a rabbit hole of old ESPN 30 for 30s, and got caught watching about 20 minutes of the “One and Not Done” documentary revolving around John Calipari. I watched the portion dedicated to his rise at UMASS and his time with players like Marcus Camby and Lou Roe in the mid 90s. What really hit me was the interview with Roe, where he credited his coach with teaching emotional connection and vulnerability, and he literally said “He taught us love for another man. Cal gave me this…you’re not soft if you say I love you.” While you may very well have an opinion on Coach Cal the marketer, the influencer, etc, this reflection from a former player was refreshing for me to see. It is EXACTLY what we want our TeamsOfMen partner coaches to be leaving, in terms of legacy, with their guys.

Coach Prompt:
What’s something you’ve wanted to say to your players… but haven’t, because you were afraid it might “soften” your image?

Optional Player Prompt:
What’s a time when a coach said something to you that stuck—not because it was loud, but because it was real?

#CoachPrompt #EmotionalFluency #30for30 #HealthyManhood #Calipari