How does a group of individuals become a team?

Vision. Culture. Discipline.

This past weekend, I was lucky enough to compete alongside 12 other men for the Carolina Chaos Lacrosse Club in the Premier Lacrosse League at the Championship Series. Guys from different states, of different heights and weights, with different personalities and traits came together for a common goal: winning it all. Months ago, I barely knew many of them. Weeks ago, I started to build relationships with each player, coach, and staff member. Days ago, we raised the Championship Series trophy as one, extremely connected team.

The best teams are “coaches led, players fed.”

This means the coaches choose the lineup, set the systems, and explain the expectations while the players show up ready to compete, meet standards, and strive wholeheartedly.

Coaching staffs create a playground and players play.

——

First and foremost, set the vision: Our new head coach called us forth from the opening meeting well before any practices, scrimmages, and games began. He told us why we were chosen. He expanded on who we could become if we all buy in. He vividly described what it would feel like to finish on top at the culmination of the tournament.

With bulging eyes, each player shared his main Hero, Highlight, and Hardship (grown men opening up is rare, powerful, and necessary). By doing so, we got to see how other guys view the world, what they value, and who is most important to them. Our head coach finished the dialogue by sharing the losses in his life and the lessons learned from those losses.

From the very beginning, each member of the Chaos Lacrosse Club knew where we were, where we planned to go, and why.

Next, create a connected culture: By the time we all met in-person, it was like we had known each other for years. We were able to deepen relationships instantly by carrying on with jokes, laughter, and shared meals. We met for breakfast. We trained together. We recovered and ate dinner together.

Within several days, it was commonplace for a few to several guys to meet at a diner, a coffee shop, or a restaurant once they spoke with their families who were back home. Before alarm clocks buzzed, our team group chat was already buzzing. Inside jokes became overused and quips seemed endless. All out of love, guys increasing looked one another in the eye and had tough conversations, too.

When we lost our first two games, nobody pointed fingers. We watched more film, poured into one another even more, and emphasized our agreed-upon standards. Players showed up on time, communicated constantly, and never got bored of each other’s company. Coaches raised their voices (again, all out of love) to challenge who we could be if we all gave more of ourselves. Discussions carried over from practices to dinners. Conversations continued until the lights went out each night. Losses brought us closer rather than broke us apart.

Reciprocity was everywhere.

Guys offered to buy each other meals, to get each other coffees, and to give each other rides. It didn’t matter when, who, or why. When teammates needed something — before they asked the question, the answer was “Yes.” That’s how I knew we were on the right track, that our culture was strengthening and strengthening: men put their needs second to the needs of their teammates.

Premier Lacrosse League members, those who did not wear nor represented the Chaos logo, were treated with respect. Each player embodied love because he could tell each person in our locker room competed for something far bigger than whatever immediate task he was engaged in. Chaos players and coaches created a connected culture by carrying out each chore with character, composure, and professionalism.

As a captain, I consistently aimed to know the pulse of the team. Alongside my fellow captain, we routinely inquired, “Who needs more from us? How do we become more connected? What should we do next to get better, closer, and more prepared?” With every repetition and form of communication, we wove the fabric of an integrous culture.

Through and through, be disciplined: During halftime of the third round robin game, our head coach demanded we keep it simple, play more for one another, and stay disciplined. The intensity of his words and the veracity of his body language energized us. If emotional deposits had not been made prior to that speech, his withdrawal may have fallen on deaf ears. In a must-win game, we responded well. Players were still able to play freely and to take risks; however, each of us were held accountable by one another.

Discipline was emphasized over the several film sessions we watched, as well. With a red laser pointer, leaders targeted changes that must be made and where on the field we must be better. Like a symphony, our head coach’s phrases were echoed by us captains, and our ideas were built upon by players who felt more compelled and worthy enough to crystallize meaningful points. Laughter had its times and places; enthusiastic seriousness blended in with tactical game-plans and prioritized approaches per matchup.

By the latter days of the tournament, discipline became the absolute norm on our team.

Coaches managed less. Players set schedules with trainers, massage therapists, and doctors. Everyone knew where to be, when to joke versus dial it in, how to act, who to build relationships with, and why we were there: to compete together, to strive valiantly, to win.

Players who were required to sit out during games embraced their roles with humility. Regardless of how sore someone was, outsiders would have never been able to tell because focus was omni-present at every mandatory meeting and practice. During games, we reduced the amount of penalties we received and we increased the amount of shared responsibilities, all over the field.

Inside one of our huddles amidst a playoff game, our head coach exclaimed, “It’s not about you. It’s not about you. It’s not about you, you, nor you. It’s about us. It’s never been about the individual. It’s always been about the TEAM. Go back out there and play with and for one another.” To echo this sentiment, I broke down each huddle, prior to every game, with the following statement: “We’re the more connected group.” When the pressure hit, that proved to be true.

We competed selflessly.

We competed tenaciously.

We competed with discipline.

——

“Trust is choosing to make something important to you vulnerable to the actions of someone else… When people shift from ‘me’ to ‘us,’ performance improves… Trust is not built through words; it’s built through consistent behavior… The best teams don’t just share goals. They share responsibility… People don’t follow titles. They follow trust… Leadership is not about controlling others; it’s about creating the conditions where people want to give their best… A leader’s job is to move the group from individual ambition to collective purpose… If people don’t feel safe, they won’t be honest. If they’re not honest, the team can’t improve… High trust teams hold each other accountable because they care about the mission and each other… Accountability without trust feels like punishment. Accountability with trust feels like commitment… The difference between good teams and great teams is how they handle tension… Great teams don’t avoid hard conversations—they trust each other enough to have them… The strongest relationships are built when people consistently show up for one another.” — Getting to Us by Seth Davis

Over the course of several weeks, I was one of several men who bought into a vision set by our head coach. Through consistent communication and constant accountability, we created a connected culture built on trust, laughter, and collective purpose. When events were tense and conditions were challenging, we trusted our training, teammates, and discipline.

——

Psychological safety breeds honesty.

Honesty manufactures accountability, sustains discipline, and creates trust.

Trust, carried out consistently, transforms a group of individuals into a team.

- MG