Jason Harper, Director, Rancho Cordova Athletic Association

This weekend, our new Cordova High Boys Basketball program stepped into a tournament well above its current level.

The record? 2 Wins. 2 Losses.

But the scoreboard wasn't the story. After the tournament, Head Coach Eric Nakagawa sent this message to his players:

"Man… I could not have asked for a better first day. Y'all make me so happy. You play hard, you carry yourselves with high character, and you really want this. We looked like we wanted change and were willing to change ourselves to attain it. Most of all, we looked like we believed in what we are doing.

You represented yourselves, your families, your school, and me extremely well. Best decision of my life, coming here. This is the kind of feeling you chase as a coach, feeling like what you're doing means something. Everyone says respect is earned, not given. No one tells you how you earn it.

You earn it by respecting yourself enough to look like it... and by being respectful.
Win or lose, they will respect us."

Watching this group compete, something stood out beyond the box score.

These young men are hungry for leadership. They played hard. They encouraged one another after making mistakes instead of pointing fingers. They celebrated each other's success. Every player who came off the floor was met by teammates lifting him up instead of tearing him down.

There was also a rare confidence about them—not arrogance, but belief. The kind of confidence that doesn't come from rankings, scholarship offers, or even a winning streak. It comes from knowing the person beside you has your back.

It comes from loyalty. It comes from trust. And ultimately, it comes from love.

Every culture has its early adopters.

On this team, two young men have stood out, not because they are seeking attention, but because they are quietly setting the standard.

Jordan DeVera and Deion Franklin have embraced this culture almost immediately because character is already a fluent language for them. They arrive first. They leave last. They welcome accountability rather than avoiding it. Their work ethic is disciplined. Their attitude is contagious. And perhaps most importantly, they are quick to encourage teammates who are still learning what we simply call The Rancho Way.  Or for our high school athletes, The Lancer Way.

Leadership doesn't always wear the captain's armband. Sometimes it carries the water, picks up the basketballs, encourages the last player in line, and demonstrates what commitment looks like when no one is watching.

Jordan and Deion are helping build something every great program eventually develops: A player-led culture.

When players begin teaching the standard to other players, the culture no longer belongs only to the coach. It belongs to the team.

That's when I found myself thinking about former NFL defensive lineman Joe Ehrmann. Early in life, Ehrmann chased football, fame, and the next party. Then cancer took his younger brother. Holding his brother in his final moments, Joe was confronted with a question that would change the trajectory of his life: “How can I redeem this?”

That question transformed not only his life, but his coaching. He became one of America's leading voices on transformational coaching. Parade Magazine called Ehrmann the most important coach in America.

Later, while coaching the nationally renowned Gilman School in Baltimore, a football powerhouse capable of competing with many college programs, Joe built something even more impressive than championships.

After every practice and every game, regardless of the outcome, he would ask his players two questions.

"What is my job as your coach?"

In unison, they answered: "To love us."

Then he asked, "And what is your job as players?"

Again, in one voice: "To love each other."

That is transformational coaching. Not transactional coaching, where an athlete's value rises and falls with points scored, tackles made, or games won. Transformational coaching develops the person first.

Ironically, that's usually what produces the better athlete.

I'll admit something. In my early years of coaching, I failed at this. Like many coaches, I coached the way I had been coached. Some of the greatest encouragement I have ever received came from coaches. Some of my deepest hurts came from different ones.

That experience eventually led us at the Rancho Cordova Athletic Association to a single question that we hope every coach wrestles honestly: What does it feel like to be coached by you?

That question scares some coaches. It inspires others. Coach Nakagawa already seems to know the answer.

He didn't spend his first message talking about points, rebounds, or defensive rotations. He talked about character. He talked about belief. He talked about respect. Most of all, he communicated something every young athlete deserves to hear: “You matter.”

That's the foundation. Love your players. Teach them to love one another. Build young men and women before building champions.

Winning builds confidence. Love builds courage. And courageous teams eventually become winning teams.

From where I'm sitting, Cordova Basketball is in very good hands. Because the greatest coaches don't simply teach athletes how to win games. They teach young people how to become someone worth becoming.

Coach Nakagawa proved that before the season even began.