The Season that Broke Me and What I Found on the Other Side
My sixteenth season as a varsity boys basketball coach had just ended. And I wasn't sure there was going to be a seventeenth season.
It should have been a season to celebrate. We won our league. We'd made it to provincials. Lost a close semi-final to the eventual champs. The next day we lost the bronze medal game to a team we could have beaten. For a rural school, that's no small achievement. The kids were talented, tough, resilient, gritty, and confident. Everything you'd want in a group of athletes. Genuinely hard to play against and sometimes a real challenge to coach.
It wasn't that we lost; it was how we lost that crushed me. Every one of our negative characteristics was exposed that day. Teammates argued with each other on the court, we complained to referees, were chippy with opponents, took multiple technicals and showed no ability to fight back. I remember standing by the bench, looking at my team time wound down. There was no celebration of the end of the seniors careers. No hugs or congratulations on a great seaason Just frustration and anger. It was not the way I wanted to end our season.
By the traditional measure of wins and losses, it was a successful season. Maybe my best ever by those measurements.
But I felt empty and exhausted.
Not tired. Exhausted in a way that took weeks to climb out of. I kept my distance from people. I was short with my family. I slept more than I had in years and still woke up empty. For weeks after the season ended, I didn't want to see my athletes, didn't want to talk about basketball, didn't want to think about next year.
I kept asking myself the same question: "Why do I feel like this?"
It took some honest reflection to find the answer. And when I found it, it wasn't what I expected.
My players hadn't lacked skill or knowledge. They had everything they needed to win games. Where things were falling apart, where I had let them down, was on the human side. Managing emotions. Handling adversity. Playing through conflict. Bouncing back from failure.
I'd paid lip service to these areas but I hadn't truly invested in them. We talked about these areas but they weren't built into our program. Not really. My energy had gone into improving what happened on the floor, not into helping my athletes understand who they were or how to function together when it got hard.
The result was a gap between what I said I believed and how our program actually operated. Between the coach I wanted to be and the one who showed up when the pressure mounted.
That gap has a name: misalignment.
And misalignment is exhausting in a way that no amount of sleep can fix.
Here's what I've come to understand since that season: burnout rarely comes from long hours alone. Most coaches I know work long hours and carry it just fine when the work feels authentic to who you are. Burnout comes from the cost of being someone you're not. From enforcing standards you don't fully believe in. From preaching connection while policing behaviour. From saying growth matters while only measuring results.
When there's nothing deeper than outcomes to hold onto, every setback compounds. Every loss feels personal. Every criticism lands harder than it should.
Nick Saban understood this better than almost any coach in history, though it took a difficult stretch with the Michigan State Spartans to get him there. His players clashed with him, his results stalled, and rather than doubling down on what he'd always done, he looked inward. He realized his emotional reactions were undermining the very performance he was trying to create. When he became visibly frustrated, his players tightened. Mistakes multiplied. Effort fractured.
So he changed. Not his standards, those stayed high. He changed how he showed up. He became more intentional, more regulated, more aligned between what he valued and how he behaved. The Process wasn't just a player development philosophy. It was a self-regulation system Saban built for himself first.
His record before that shift: 32-22-1.
After it: 260-49. Seven national championships.
Same coach. Different alignment.
The hard truth is that most coaches never do this work.
When things go wrong, the instinct is to look outward at the players, the schedule, the administration, the culture of the game. It's easier to diagnose what's broken around you than to examine what's happening inside you. Self-reflection feels unproductive in a profession that rewards action. It's hard to quantify. It doesn't show up on film.
But here's what I've learned: the coaches who last are the ones who build programs that mean something, who get more from athletes than anyone expects, still love the work after twenty-plus years, they're the ones who've done the inner work. Not once, but as an ongoing practice.
They know who they are. They coach from that place. And when pressure hits, their behaviour stays consistent with their values, not because they're perfect, but because they've done the work to understand what they actually stand for.
That's not a soft idea. It's a competitive advantage.
Here's the question I'd leave you with this week:
If you stripped away your record, your system, and your reputation, who are you as a coach?
And does the way you actually coach reflect who you are?
Sit with that. It's not a comfortable question. But it might be the most important one you ask yourself this offseason.
Coming this Wednesday
Something I've been working on is almost ready. It's the most direct application of everything I write about in this newsletter and next week I'm opening it to a small group of coaches who want to go deeper. More in your Inbox this week.
🎧 The Ultimate List of Coaching Podcasts
It's back!
For years I kept a list of my favourite coaching podcasts. Somewhere along the line I stopped updating it. But I took some time and added to it. Over 160 hours of top notch professional development for free.
One of the simplest ways to sharpen your thinking, expand your perspective, and stay connected to the best ideas in leadership and performance is through podcasts. They give you access to world-class coaches, sport scientists, and leadership minds, often during time you were already going to spend driving, walking, or working out.
Over the years, podcasts have become part of my own development rhythm. Some challenge my assumptions. Some give practical tools I can use the next day. And some simply remind me that the best coaches are lifelong learners.
That’s why I’ve put together The Ultimate List of Coaching Podcasts it's a curated collection designed to help you:
✅ Build stronger culture
✅ Improve how you teach and communicate
✅ Deepen your mental performance toolbox
✅ Stay current with modern player development
✅ Grow your leadership from the inside out
Whether you’re a veteran coach or just getting started, there is something in here that will stretch your thinking.
👉 Dive into the list and pick one new voice to learn from this week.
Because the best coaches don't stay static…
They keep evolving.
Are you or your athletes struggling to be their best?
Let's find a solution together.
I help coaches thrive.
As a Certified Mental Performance Consultant and a basketball coach with 25 years of experience, I understand the barriers to peak performance for both you and your athletes.
I would love to help you or your team build a competitive advantage. Here are a few ways I can help:
- Consult with your team or coaching staff
- Teach mental skills to your team via Zoom
- Work 1 on 1 with coaches
- Work 1 on 1 with athletes
Book a Free Discovery Call
If you’re feeling the weight of expectations, pressure, or burnout, you don’t have to figure this out alone.
A discovery call is simply a chance to talk through your season, your goals, and your process, with another coach who’s been there. No pitch. No obligation. Just a meaningful conversation.
Schedule a discovery call here.
Shoot me an email at jasonpayne@evolutionmpc.com. I love to talk coaching and see how I can help you.
Coaching is hard, let's make it easier.
Check out my website at http://jasonpayne.ca
Thanks for reading and have a great week.