It’s easy to get lost in the numbers.
One thousand two hundred seventeen wins. Eleven national championships. Twenty-three Final Fours. Six undefeated seasons. One hundred eleven wins in a row.
Individually, these milestones are unlikely to be matched. Collectively, they are impossible to duplicate.
UConn’s Geno Auriemma broke the NCAA Division I record for coaching victories in men’s and women’s basketball on Wednesday, a 85-41 win over Fairleigh Dickinson marking his 1,217th and moving him past former Stanford coach Tara VanDerveer.
But the number to focus on is 160. That is how many Huskies have played for coach Geno Auriemma. One hundred sixty women stepped onto UConn’s campus as 18-year-old kids and had their lives changed forever.
There is a bond among the 160, among players of different generations, even those who have never met. Because we have the shared life experience of playing for the best coach in the history of the game. We have been yelled at. Forced to tears. We have been pushed to the limits of what we thought was possible. We have been told that we are too selfish. Or sometimes, not selfish enough. That we can’t get anything right. That we are “the worst post player in America” (me, and others) or “the dumbest smart person in America” (ditto).
Our practices were often difficult rehearsals, and every game was opening night. “That’s why you come here, right?” Coach Auriemma told me recently. “You don’t go to Broadway and they put you on the show and go, ‘Listen, just try to get your lines right now.’ You can do that at Manchester Little Theater. Sorry, this is Broadway. No screwups. Be perfect.”
When I watch UConn practice now, I both chuckle about and feel sorry for players caught in Coach’s wrath. As he complains to associate head coach Chris Dailey, or “CD,” about someone’s stupid mistake, just loud enough for everyone on the court to hear, I think about all of the players who have been in that same position over the years.
Through all of that, we learned how to win. But not just win. Win the right way. We learned to communicate, to push through mental and physical barriers and to always put the team first.
We were taught to say “thank you” after pregame meals, to learn the bus driver’s name and to look fans in the eye when signing an autograph.
We went to UConn because of the incredible connection we formed during the recruiting process with coaches Auriemma and Dailey. After my Mom told him, on a home visit, that UConn was a safety school, I followed him into our driveway and told him not to worry about her, that I knew where I was going to school. When I turned 16, CD sent me a birthday card and mistakenly wished me a happy 17th birthday. Every year since then, in early October, I receive a card from her wishing me a happy birthday for one year older than my actual age.
Most of us stayed because we believed they could make us who we wanted to be, even before any proof of that existed.
We are national champions and players of the year. Olympians and All-Stars. Walk-ons and role players.
We are also wives and mothers and sisters and friends. During our time in Storrs, we learned how to be the best versions of ourselves.
Does Coach Auriemma recruit strong women? Yes, but he also helps forge them.
UConn women’s basketball alums Sue Bird and Renee Montgomery are prominent voices in the fight for social justice. Maya Moore gave up basketball in the prime of her career to focus on criminal justice reform. Swin Cash is an advocate against gun violence.
In so many ways, Coach Auriemma and UConn have changed the way basketball is played. Set a standard for what women’s programs can accomplish. Forced every other school to raise their level so they could compete with the team located in the Basketball Capital of the World.
And while they changed the way basketball is played, they also changed the lives of the 160. In many ways, we are what they made us.
When I asked Coach what the all-time wins record meant to him, he talked about his players instead: “For me, it should be celebrated by those [160] players. They should all feel like they were an actor in one of the greatest plays in the history of theater.”
The playwright doesn’t do it for the accolades, doesn’t need the marquee lights. He agrees with Hamlet: “The play’s the thing.” But this week we — the members of an ever-growing ensemble cast — are standing in the wings, applauding. Coach has earned the curtain call.
