A Graduation Message from Derek Jeter at The Big House: Silence Made Me Better

It's graduation season. queue up "Pomp and Circumstance." We teachers dust off our black robes and hoods. Students are measured for their own. I was in the academic dean's office at school when three girls stopped by to confirm how to correctly pronounce their surnames. I know this assistant principal takes great pride in doing that right. She should!

At this time of year, one question I enjoy asking my colleagues at lunch is: Who gave the commencement address at your graduation? Many don’t remember. Some can give a general idea or share a few details. But I have a feeling the University of Michigan’s Class of 2025 won’t forget theirs. He is the 2020 MLB Hall of Fame inductee, five-time World Series champion, and legendary shortstop for the New York Yankees: Derek Sanderson Jeter.

Born in New Jersey, Jeter grew up in Kalamazoo, MI . Given that "The Captain" was a Wolverine for one year before turning pro, I wasn’t surprised by the University’s choice. I’m not a Yankee fan. I like Michigan even less, but he hit it out of the park (sorry! I couldn’t resist). I laughed. I cried. I watched it twice.

As a baseball player, I suspected he would address the importance of failure—as a mechanism for personal growth, humility and more. He did. 

If I can promise you one thing for certain: You will fail.I failed publicly. I failed miserably. There were days I literally cried because I was so bad. My first season as a professional, I made 56 errors. For the non-baseball fans, that’s hard to do intentionally.

The important thing, is to see disappointment as an opportunity to learn, not as a reason to quit.

It’s your job to make sure that a speed bump doesn’t become a roadblock.

Surrounding yourself with the right people will also help buoy you after a failure — and make your chance of success greater.

Easy for a baseball player to say, right? But to me Jeter's message had added nuance and depth. I couldn't help but think of his time with the Miami Marlins. Three years after retiring from his work on the field in baseball, Jeter became CEO and part of the ownership group. In 2022, he left his position of overseeing business and baseball operations; the Marlins had a mixed record under his leadership. To say he failed might be unfair. He faced a series of speed bumps. The road took him elsewhere.

Jeter has always spoken about the importance of his parents—the expectations they held, the way they challenged and supported him. As written in The University Record:

While you may fail on your own, Jeter said, it’s nearly impossible to succeed alone.

For Jeter, the right people included his parents. 

“I’d walk onto the field to warm up before a game, and I’d look up into the stands. People thought I was looking around and not focusing. I was really looking for mom and dad,” he said.

“It gave me comfort that I wasn’t alone, even when they physically weren’t present, I knew they believed in me, were rooting for me, were supporting me.” 

Jeter’s words remind me that true greatness comes from both within and beyond. Simone Biles — who, fittingly, spoke at St. Louis University’s commencement — has expressed the same truth. Before every competition, she would look to the stands for her parents. But during the 2021 Tokyo Olympics, COVID restrictions kept families away. Biles cites this absence as a key factor in her mental health struggles.

The importance of family support and the lessons we learn from failure are important but standard remarks for graduates. What I found particularly poignant was his recommendation for silence. He said, 

I spent my entire career playing in the biggest media market in the world. The glare was constant. The attention was relentless. Many called me mysterious, amongst other things — but we'll use 'mysterious' — because I kept things private. In reality I was just listening to the voice in my head. It was my dad's voice. He kept telling me, 'Be patient.' Listen more than I spoke. So I looked. I listened. I learned. Silence made me smarter. Silence made me better.

Catholic writer Matthew Kelly would agree. He says we must all spend time in the classroom of silence. This is where Jeter found his way. You won't find a singular faith tradition or world religion that underestimates the importance and the power of silence. It's restorative. It's generative. It's where the Lord comes to us.

Though I have heard the band play "The Victors" many times, I never knew the actual words to the Michigan fight song (*I am familiar with an alternate version). Awarded an honorary Doctor of Law degree, his message has addition meaning. "After all, that Michigan degree that you are receiving today gives you an edge. And so do the words of our fight song: Hail to the victors, the conquering heroes, the leaders and best."

Thank you, Captain for these lessons—even about the fight song. Congratulations to all the graduates in Ann Arbor and throughout the country. Enjoy your moment and live the message.
Go Irish ;-) 

Photo Credits
Commencement
Biles
Silence

Sports and Spirituality Welcomes Pope Leo XIV

No doubt, the celebration of Mother's Day bumped mass attendance, but I had to wonder: Were more people in the pews because we have a new Pope—an American one! My pastor's opening remarks focused on our extraordinary week for our Church as we named the 267th successor of Saint Peter. Welcome Pope Leo XIV!

Given that we live in a great information age—with facts and findings literally at our fingertips, it wasn't just Catholics eager to learn more about the new religious leader in the Vatican. Folks from Chicago, Villanova alumni,  those in attendance at Augustinian institutions, lapsed Catholics, C&E Catholics, White Sox fans and more want to know more about Robert Francis Pervost. So much has been written and more is to be determined but it's high time that Sports and Spirituality weighed in. I wanted to share but a few thoughts.

It's never who or what you expect.
When people asked me—or the other theology teachers I work with—who we thought would be named the next pope, most of us gave the same answer: “It’s never who you expect.” Though I shared my own preferences and suspicions, the truth is, I ultimately leaned on that same belief: It’s never who you expect." Why is so hard to live by our very own words?

The night of the first official voting at the Conclave—black smoke—I received a group text from three Catholic friends. It said "Okay guys, are we getting an American Pope? Black smoke tomorrow or will one be chosen?" My response? "Zero chance of an American pope. Not sure how long it will take this group. Always interesting." Less than 24 hours later, a colleague came by my classroom to share there was white smoke at the Vatican. I heard rumblings from another teacher that they chose an American Pope. I actually said out loud, "Dan doesn't know what he is talking about." 

Turns out Dan DID know what he was talking about—a man born and raised in the United States was elected to the Holy See. Turns out I too knew what I was talking about—it's never someone you expect (this is certainly true with Francis and John Paul I and John Paul I. Benedict was a known entity). I said those words and yet I struggled to believe what I had professed as true. Very human. 

Habemus papam
At the beginning of the next class period, the Assistant Principal for Mission came on the P.A. with an announcement. A Latin scholar—a junior named Alex— had his moment in the sun as he read the official announcement out of the Vatican that was read by to the waiting crowds by Cardinal Protodeacon Dominique Mamberti. Alex repeated what he said.

Annuntio vobis gaudium magnum;
habemus papam:


Eminentissimum ac reverendissimum Dominum Robertum Franciscum

Sanctae Romane Ecclesiae Cardinalem Prevost qui sibi nomen imposuit Leo XIV  

Or in English,  

I announce to you a great joy;
we have a pope: The Most Eminent and Most Reverend Lord Robert Francis Cardinal of the Holy Roman Church Prevost who has taken the name Leo XIV

My students heard the news delivered with joy and enthusiasm and they clapped. It was awesome. I work at a Jesuit high school and when Jorge Mario Bergolio, S.J. was named Pope, the faculty we all were excited, but not like this. This moment in world history—naming an American to the papacy was not lost on young people. It is something I will not forget.

Don't Stop Believin'
Within minutes, friends and family were sharing fun facts, memes and anecdotes about the new Pope. Out of the gate, a news article declared Pope Leo XIV to be a Cubs fan. Having heard he was from the South side, I was skeptical of this news. I thought to myself "Where's the evidence?" I also thought given the class issues that often characterize the fans from the North side (Cubs territory) to those in the South (Sox nation), if this allegiance were true—there must be a good reason. People are free to follow who they want, but in a city like Chicago, there's some explaining to do. 

Pope Leo's brother weighed in and settled the score and I can't help but smile. Not because it's utterly remarkable that we have TV footage of him at the 2005 World Series, but because of the theme song that characterized that White Sox team: Don't Stop Believin'. 

As written in my post The Balm of Sports, "In 2005, this team did the impossible. They remained in first place from Opening Day until they defeated the Houston Astros to win the World Series title. It had been 88 years since the franchise last clinched a championship (their third). The 2010 San Francisco Giants hold Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" as the unofficial theme song of our city's first World Series championship, but the credit should go to that 2005 crew."

Believe. Have Faith. What a perfect message for a team and for a moral leader, like the Pope to say. I think my friend Courtney's brother, Josh would like Pope Leo XIV—and not just because of his allegiance to the ChiSox (his story is captured in the aforementioned blog post).

Civilization of Love / Culture of Encounter
As word of Leo's sports fandom spread, it became a cultural phenomenon, birthing a million memes and his own signature Topps card. Kendall Baker of Yahoo Sports writes, "His election even moved betting markets: In the 24 hours after Prevost was elected, Villanova had the most bets to win the 2026 men's basketball title and received more action than all other teams combined.

The pope is also a hoophead: One longtime friend said they used to watch Bulls games together and discuss Villanova basketball, and old tweets showed Prevost cheering on the Wildcats."

But he isn't just a sports fan, "while living in Rome, he played tennis here weekly,” Father Joseph Farrell, the American prior general of the Order of St. Augustine, said. “He realizes just how important staying in good physical shape is. He certainly plays tennis for the joy of the game, to keep up with the game, but also for stress relief!”

While I certainly celebrate his love for sports, it is VERY short-sighted to recognize this Pope as the only one with a sports connection. John Paul II was an avid sportsman—a skier and a hiker. He loved the outdoors and in his writings, he saw sport as one of the crucial signs of the times, a "cultural mediator," uniquely "capable of interpreting contemporary man's hopes and needs." He said "Sports in fact can make an effective contribution to peaceful understanding between peoples and to establishing the new civilization of love." (On the Eighth Day).

Pope Francis only furthered this teaching with his own vision of the culture of encounter. He declared "to speak of a culture of encounter means we, as a people, should be passionate about meeting others, seeking points of contact, building bridges, planning a project that includes everyone." Pope Francis believed that soccer could do this. Given it's popularity, it's quite possible that Pope Francis' message might have even been more accessible to people world wide. 

Building from prior papal teachings and his own love of sport, I have to wonder, what's next? What might Pope Leo XIV teach us all about sports and spirituality in the years to come. I can't wait.

One addendum. In this week's department meeting a colleague said "I'm so glad that Pope Leo is from Villanova and not Notre Dame." Without blinking an eye, I said "I totally agree. We are already a lot. To have the Holy Father as an alum would just be too much... I'm so happy for Nova. They are tearing it up in the NBA and now the Vatican."

Truly, we've been given hope and a sign that the Holy Spirit continues to work in our world. In the first words of Pope Leo XIV, "Peace be with you." 

Photo Credits
Topps Card
Comiskey

A Team Where No One is Left Behind: The Work of Steph Curry

This time of year is special in the NBA—not just for the intensity of playoff basketball, but also because it’s when the league celebrates some of its most meaningful honors. While I love the performance awards like Defensive Player or Rookie of the Year, it’s the extraordinary awards that truly stand out. These aren't about points or rebounds; they celebrate legacy, character, leadership, and the kind of impact that can’t be measured. These awards honor players who elevate not just their teams, but their communities—and the game itself. You don’t have to be a Golden State Warriors fan to recognize that Steph Curry embodies all of that. No wonder he is the 2025 Twyman–Stokes Teammate of the Year honoree.

Twelve players—six from each conference—are finalists for the Twyman–Stokes Teammate of the Year Award. While the league already honors sportsmanship with the Joe Dumars Trophy, the "Teammate of the Year" award recognizes selfless play, leadership on and off the court, as well as unwavering team commitment. These qualities, though sportsmanlike, reflect the  legacy of the awards namesakes Jack Twyman and Maurice Stokes, for whom the award is named.

The award was announced by the league on April 28 and given by Coach Kerr to Steph Curry —after practice, standing mid court with the team and other coaches. Without a doubt, his work on the court is magnanimous. We are all witnesses to the greatest shooter of the day. And although I don't personally know Steph, from all that I have read, seen and encountered myself—I believe he's magnanimous off the court too. 

He is great because he pays attention on a micro and macro level. He takes notice, he listens and he prays. That's magnanimity. I show the AppleTV movie about his life, "Underrated" to my students because I want them to see that for themselves. One of my favorite scenes early on features Steph riding solo on the subway.  With his head leaning against the window he says, "I'm constantly trying to find the space just to be able to to survey my life, survey what's going onto let my mind think about, How did I get here?" Hard work. Determination. Faith, Kindness. Sacrifice. I think those might be a few ways to answer that question.

If being a good teammate means that you continue to improve, work harder and smarter then look no further than Steph. However, the story behind the award sets the stage for the criteria. According to SFGate, in 1958 Maurice Stokes "suffered a brain injury in the final game of the 1957-58 regular season, fell into a coma days later and became permanently paralyzed." He was just 24. In an extraordinary act of loyalty and compassion, Jack Twyman became Stokes' legal guardian and advocate, and supported him for the remaining 12 years of Stokes' life. Their relationship went beyond sports—it was about brotherhood, sacrifice, and selflessness.

I see those qualities in Steph Curry and this post by Mukurima X Muriuki, confirmed my hunch. It also catapulted Steph into first place: my favorite athlete of all time. Yes, I am biased. And yes, this is a true story. Enjoy.

It’s 2:30 a.m. at San Francisco International. Everyone is tired. The Golden State Warriors have just landed from a brutal road trip. Staff, coaches, and players scatter. Everyone eager to get home and crash.

Everyone except one guy.

Quinten Post.

He is a rookie, new to the league and still waiting for his big moment. 

He doesn’t have a big contract, so he can only afford so much.

And it is in such ungodly hour when shit hits the fan. And it did

His Uber app would not load. And as a result he did not have a ride

Post is 7 feet tall. And that was the height of uncertainty, standing alone on the curb, invisible to most.

Except one.

Stephen (Múrage) Curry.

Two-time MVP. 

Four-time champ. 

Face of the franchise.

“You trying to get home?” Steph asked Post.

Post mumbles something, embarrassed. “It’s cool, I’ll figure it out.”

But Curry isn’t wired that way.

“I got you,” he replied

And just like that, the most recognizable athlete in the Bay Area becomes the most dependable teammate in the league. 

Steph drives the rookie home—no cameras, no PR, just kindness at 2:30 in the morning.

“Out of the 50 people at that airport,” Post would later say, “Steph was the last person who had to care. But he did. That’s who he is.”

Isitoshe,

Now here is  where the story bends.

Fast forward to Game 4 of the NBA playoffs  this past weekend. Warriors vs. Rockets.

In a first quarter where Steph could not  buy a bucket, ir is Quinten Post—yes, the same rookie once stranded at the airport—who catches fire.

He nails back-to-back threes, swats a shot into the fifth row, and screams into the crowd like he has been here before.

He hasn’t. But in that moment, he belongs.

Steph cheered on, like a proud big brother. Because he knew. He saw the worth in Post long before the world did.

Stephen Curry did not help him for clout. He helped him because that’s the culture he helped build—a team where no one is left behind.

May the day break! 

A team where no one is left behind. That's what Twyman and Stokes did for one another. That's what Curry and Post have shared. It sounds a lot like the Kingdom we are called to build here and now.

And for what it's worth, Curry won "Sportsman of the Year in 2011." Congratulations Steph. We got you.

Photo Credits
Honors
Curry and Post