Alumni: Don’t Let a Bad Ending Take Away a Lifetime of Belonging

One of the unfortunate realities of college athletics is that not every former student-athlete leaves with a perfect relationship with their coach, their program, or even their institution.

Sometimes relationships change. Coaches disappoint us. Administrators make decisions we don’t understand or agree with. Programs evolve in directions we wouldn’t have chosen.

And occasionally, people walk away feeling like the place they gave so much to no longer feels like their place at all.

I understand that.  Remember: I was a college player, college coach and the parent of a college player.  I have seen this from every angle.

The way I saw it as a college soccer coach was this: simple math.

We typically carried 26 players on our roster, 11 players started each match, and unless there was an injury, we usually only substituted our attacking players (4) and occasionally a central midfield player (1).  So that means that in a typical game, a maximum of 16 players played (and, thus were happy) and 10 players (and their families) couldn’t stand me.

That’s the math, and I get it.  And some former players hold on to that, which is understandable. 

The truth is, I probably could have done a better job in every year that I coached.  I did my best for the team, but I still could have made more and better substitutions, I could have given more people a chance, and I could have not said some of the things I said and did some of the things that I did.

At the end of their final game of their senior season, I would always invite our players out for a beer.  Two beers, actually.  With the first one, I toasted the senior class and asked them to feel free to unload on me and all of the things that I had done wrong as their coach. 

With the second beer, I asked them to begin to ‘turn the page’ in our relationship and begin an actual friendship that we did not have for the previous four years as their coach.  This practice worked pretty well for us all and eased their transition into being an alum.

After the second beer, I thanked them and got out of dodge.

But as the years go by, knowing that most coaches do not clear the air and reshape their relationships with the players that have an axe to grind, I’ve come to believe something pretty strongly:

Don’t let someone else take your alumni experience away from you.

Your experience was always bigger than one coach.

It was bigger than one athletic director, one administration, one disappointing decision, or one difficult ending.

And guess what? Those people who may have been a source of pain and frustration have zero power over you anymore. Zero.

Think about what you actually remember: the fun stuff.

The bus rides.

The locker room.

The practices nobody else saw.

The road trips.

The wins you still talk about.

The losses that still sting a little.

The ridiculous stories that somehow get better every time they’re told.

The teammates who became lifelong friends.

The alumni who came before you and the players who wore the uniform after you.

Those relationships belong to you.

And so do those memories.

You Don’t Lose Anything by Coming Back

I think sometimes alumni believe that returning means endorsing everything currently happening within a program or institution.

It doesn’t.

Attending an alumni weekend doesn’t mean you approve of every decision.

Going to a game doesn’t mean you've suddenly forgotten the way you were treated.

Reconnecting with teammates doesn’t require you to repair a relationship with a former coach.

Supporting current student-athletes doesn’t mean supporting every person in leadership.

You can separate those things.

In fact, maybe we should do a better job of separating them.

Your relationship with your teammates and fellow alumni can exist independently of your relationship with the institution.

That realization can be incredibly freeing.

The Current Players Deserve That Connection, Too

There is another piece of this that I think we sometimes overlook.

Today's players had nothing to do with whatever happened 5, 10, 20, or 30 years ago.

But they can benefit enormously from knowing the people who came before them.

They should hear your stories.

They should know the history of the uniform they're wearing.

They should have access to alumni who can provide mentorship, career advice, friendship,

perspective, and connections.

And someday, they will be sitting where you are.

They'll be the alumni.

The strength of a program over generations isn't created solely by the people currently employed there. It's created by the people who have worn the uniform and decide that those relationships are worth maintaining.

Come Back on Your Own Terms

Maybe your alumni experience happens at Homecoming.

Maybe it's an alumni game.

Maybe it's sitting in the stands with five former teammates.

Or maybe it has absolutely nothing to do with an official university event.

It could be dinner.

A golf outing.

A Zoom call.

A group text that finally turns into everyone getting together after saying, "We should do this sometime" for the past eight years.

There doesn't need to be one definition of alumni engagement.

There simply needs to be a way and a place for people who shared an important chapter of their lives to reconnect—if they want to.

Some won't.

That's okay.

But for those who do, I don't think we should allow frustration with leadership, disappointment with an institution, or a relationship that didn't end the way we hoped to permanently close that door.

It’s Still Your Program, Too

Coaches come and go.

Athletic directors come and go.

Presidents come and go.

Administrations change.

But alumni remain.

And your years there don't disappear because the people occupying the offices changed.

You earned your memories.

You built those friendships.

You wore the uniform.

You took the trips.

You experienced the victories and defeats.

You helped write part of the history.

Nobody gets to take that away from you unless you let them.

So if you've stayed away because you're angry with a former coach, frustrated with the athletic department, disappointed with the institution, or simply feel disconnected from what the program has become, consider coming back.

Not necessarily for them.

Come back for your teammates.

Come back for the alumni.

Come back for the current players.

Come back for the stories.

Come back because there are probably people you haven't seen in far too long.

And most importantly, come back because that experience is still yours.

You don't have to forget the past.

You don't have to pretend everything was perfect.

You don't even have to agree with the people currently running the program.

You just have to decide whether those relationships are more important than the things that drove you away.

For me, increasingly, the answer is yes.