What High School Band Directors Can Learn from Championship Basketball Coaches

I've spent six years building a high school band program, and I'll be honest—some of my best ideas haven't come from music education conferences or pedagogy textbooks. They've come from watching basketball coaches work with their players.

There's something about the way great coaches develop young athletes that resonates with what we're trying to do in high-performing band programs. We're both working with teenagers, pushing them to excel, building culture, and ultimately trying to shape young people who will make a difference in the world. The venues are different, but the mission is the same.

I know I haven't been at this very long compared to some veterans in our field, but these lessons from championship coaches have shaped my approach more than anything else I've encountered in my teaching career. Over these six years, I've studied several coaching legends who've mastered this balance between demanding excellence and serving young people. Here's what I've learned from each of them and how it's transformed the way I run my program.

Joe Mazzulla: Making Kids Comfortable with Being Uncomfortable

When Joe Mazzulla took over the Celtics, I was struck by something he said in an interview: "Growth only happens outside your comfort zone." But what impressed me more was how he actually implemented this philosophy with his players.

Mazzulla doesn't just throw his guys into the deep end and hope they swim. He creates what he calls "productive struggle"—challenging situations that directly connect to what his players need to improve. During practice, he'll run plays with a shot clock, pump in crowd noise, or force them to execute complex strategies when they're already exhausted. It's uncomfortable, but it's purposeful.

I started applying this in my rehearsals. Instead of just drilling passages until they were perfect, I began creating pressure situations. Sight-reading competitions with time limits. Solo auditions in front of the section. Playing through pieces without stopping, no matter what happened. My kids hated it at first, but something amazing happened—they stopped being afraid of making mistakes in performance.

The key is that Mazzulla never loses sight of why he's pushing his players. Every challenge serves their development. When I make my students uncomfortable, I make sure they understand the connection between the struggle and their growth. That makes all the difference.

Tom Izzo: The Power of Non-Negotiables

I've watched Michigan State basketball for years, and one thing always struck me about Tom Izzo's teams—they might not always have the most talented players, but they never beat themselves. They're always prepared, always hustling, always playing smart basketball. That doesn't happen by accident.

Izzo succeeds because he establishes what he calls "non-negotiables"—standards that never change regardless of the score, the opponent, or the circumstances. Effort isn't negotiable. Preparation isn't negotiable. Being there for your teammates isn't negotiable.

This completely changed how I think about program culture. I used to focus on musical outcomes—intonation, balance, technique. But I realized I needed to establish the character foundations first. Now my non-negotiables are simple: we show up on time, we come prepared, we support each other, and we give our best effort every single day. Everything else builds from there.

What I love about Izzo is that he adapts his methods for each generation of players while never compromising his core principles. I've learned to communicate differently with my current students than I did when I started, but my expectations haven't changed. The standards remain constant even as my approach evolves.

And here's what really gets me about Izzo—watch any interview with his former players, and they don't talk about basketball. They talk about what he taught them about life, about character, about being a man. That's what we should be aiming for in our programs too.

Dan Hurley: Controlled Intensity

Dan Hurley's practices at UConn are legendary. The man brings an energy that's almost electric, and his players feed off it. But what impressed me most when I watched him work wasn't the intensity—it was how purposeful that intensity was.

Hurley demands excellence, but he's crystal clear about why. He explains his reasoning, connects current struggles to future success, and helps his players understand that his demands come from belief in their potential, not disappointment in their current abilities. His players buy into the difficulty because they trust the process.

I used to think that being demanding meant being harsh, but Hurley showed me the difference. Now when I push my students hard, I take the time to explain why. When we're drilling a passage for the twentieth time, I help them see how this connects to the moment when they'll nail it in performance and feel that rush of accomplishment.

The transparency is everything. My students know exactly what I expect and why I expect it. They understand that when I'm tough on them, it's because I see something in them that maybe they don't see in themselves yet.

Bob Hurley Sr.: Playing the Long Game

Bob Hurley Sr. coached at St. Anthony High School for decades, and his approach to player development taught me more about patience than any education course ever did. Hurley understood that real growth takes time, and that pushing too hard too fast often backfires.

He had this incredible ability to meet kids exactly where they were. Not where I wished they were, not where they should be, but where they actually were. From that starting point, he'd build them up step by step, celebrating small victories while keeping the bigger picture in mind.

This patience thing has been huge for me. I used to get frustrated when students didn't progress as quickly as I wanted. Now I've learned to appreciate the journey. That sophomore who struggles with rhythm this year might become my strongest section leader as a senior. That quiet kid who barely auditioned might discover a passion for music that shapes their entire life.

Hurley also understood that his job went way beyond teaching basketball. For many of his players, the program was a lifeline—a place where they could develop confidence, discipline, and character. That's exactly what our band programs should be for our students.

Building Something That Lasts

Here's what I've learned from studying these coaches: great programs aren't built on talent alone, and they're not built overnight. They're built on relationships, standards, and an unwavering commitment to developing young people who will make a difference in the world.

Every single one of these coaches understands that their influence extends far beyond their sport. They're shaping character, building confidence, and teaching life lessons that their players will carry forever. That's exactly what we should be doing in our band programs.

The music is important—don't get me wrong. But the real magic happens when we create environments where young people discover what they're capable of, learn to work together toward something bigger than themselves, and develop the character that will serve them long after they've forgotten how to play their instruments.

These coaches have taught me that you can demand excellence and still serve young people. You can maintain high standards and still meet kids where they are. You can push them to grow while never losing sight of why you're doing this in the first place.

That's the kind of program I want to build. That's the kind of director I want to be.