What Are Captains For? Christian Yelich and Roy Kent Weigh In...

Although the honor of captain is not uncommon in most sports, it is a rare distinction in baseball. So when the Brewers named Christian Yelich the first official captain in franchise history, it made me pause and revisit a question that some athletic directors and coaches love to ask: Why have a team captain and what should they do? 

When I worked in athletics, I came to learn that a number of athletic directors and coaches wanted to do away with sports captains entirely. They felt the importance of the position was entirely overblown. Others believed leadership should simply emerge from within a team and that a person didn't need a “C” on their uniform to confer that role.

Rather than abandon an opportunity for a young person to exercise leadership, we considered their arguments and grievances and folded those concerns into making the selection process clearer. We returned again and again to the question: Why should a team have a captain? And, to me, that leads to an even better question: What are captains for?

Yelich is one of only three active Major League players with the title of captain, joining the Yankees’ Aaron Judge and the Royals’ Salvador Perez. What is particularly interesting to me is that the idea to name Yelich captain came from within the Brewers' clubhouse.

According to manager Pat Murphy, an unnamed player brought the idea to him. Murphy ran it by the owner and president of baseball operations before presenting it to Yelich.

The Brew Crew's skipper said Yelich consented—but under one condition.

Adam McCalvy writes, “He had one request that we ask Robin Yount before we do such a thing, and Robin agreed wholeheartedly,” Murphy said. “Because in Yeli’s mind, Robin is the first captain.”

That says a ton about Yelich's leadership style to me.

A captain is recognized by teammates—by peers—for much more than talent. They are respected for what they do in the clubhouse, how they treat others, and the way they carry themselves when no one is watching. And, as we see with Yelich, they do all of it with a respect for those who have paved the way and with a certain humility in mind. I love it. 

But the truth of the matter is, I found a great answer to my captain question—*What is a captain for? What should they do?*—from one of my favorite shows: Ted Lasso. Thank you, Roy Kent!

In Episode 7, “Yes & Baby,” Roy Kent is talking with a short-term love interest, Dr. Erin Beaumont. Although he was open to dating, his heart was still with Keeley. Dr. Beaumont knows the end is near. Before she bows out and bids farewell, she summons some gumption and asks:

“Look. There is one question. Why? Why did this happen?”

Roy responds, “What? Us?”

He admits that Keeley wanted him to date other women so that he could learn to fully see someone and let them fully see him.

Dr. Beaumont asks, “So I was just part of some experiment then?”

“No,” Roy tells her. “You were not part of my plan.”

Then, after she asks whether she simply wasn't enough, Roy gives her one of my favorite answers in the entire series:

“Are you kidding me? You’re a f***ing captain.”

She looks confused. “Is that an insult?”

“No! Alright, look. On a football team, captain has three jobs:

1. Make sure everyone’s heading toward the same goal.

2. Stand up for what’s right.

3. Put the well-being of others before yourself.

And you have to be able to hold the center. The way you are with your patients, the way you are with your friends, the way you’ve been with me… You’re a captain. I see you.”

She looks at him and says, “I see you too.”

And there it is. I think that is what captains are for: not simply to wear a “C.” Not simply to speak for the team, take the coin toss, or rally everyone before a game. And certainly not because they are necessarily the best player.

Captains are there to help a team remember where it is going, to stand up for what is right, and to care about the people alongside them. They hold the center when things get messy. They notice people. They make sure no one gets left behind.

And maybe the most important thing a captain can do is to see their teammates—and to help their teammates see themselves.

That, to me, is leadership worth putting a “C” on a jersey for. Go Brewers!

Photo Credits
Dr. B and Roy
Cheesehead

More than Praying Over Putts—The Purpose of a Team Chaplain

I am very happy to report and share that I have a new role in St. Ignatius athletics. For the 2026–2027 school year, I am the varsity girls’ golf chaplain.

Last year, I returned to coaching as the JV girls’ golf coach, a job I shared with another coach. But when my fellow assistant welcomed a third child and my responsibilities in the Office of Adult Spirituality grew, it became clear that coaching wasn’t going to be possible. Fortunately, the desire and need for sports chaplains at SI has emerged, and serving in this role is something I have been wanting to try. It's been a joy and a privilege—a win-win. 

A good friend and former coach recently asked me what serving as the golf team chaplain actually means.

“Do you teach them to pray over putts?”

Considering his short game, maybe he should.

His question gave me the opportunity to talk a little bit about the team, the program, and what we have done so far. They are young, and they are very talented. We are all excited to see where this team will go. But I’ve worked with good teams before. As as much as talent and skill are valuable to any program, I am more concerned with who they become. And I mean this on the golf course, too. 

Last week the team went on a Thursday Morning Comfort Run—
Handing out sandwiches in the TL

Scottie Scheffler is a good example of what I mean. He is, by almost any measure, a remarkably successful golfer. But when I think about what I want for our girls, I’m not thinking first about how many tournaments they win, how low they shoot, or where they end up on a leaderboard.

I’m thinking about who they are when they are playing well—and who they are when they aren’t. As as far as I'm concerned, what he did at the President's Cup this past weekend is so much more than an indicator of his character and integrity. He served as a role model for sportsmanship and how the game ought to be played.

Hugh Kellenberger of The New York Times captures the event well. He writes, 

Scottie Scheffler conceded a 32-foot par putt to his opponent on Sunday in the Presidents Cup, an act of sportsmanship after an unruly fan got involved in the match.

A fan yelled, “Go Scottie,” at an extremely loud volume as Nico Echavarria was in his backswing on the 14th hole, causing the International Team member to slice his drive far right. Echavarria dropped his driver in disgust and glared in the fan’s direction.

Scheffler immediately stepped up for Echavarria, looking at the fan and yelling, “There’s no place for that.”

Echavarria’s drive only went 226 yards to the right rough, and he ended up still 32 feet away from the hole after his third shot. Scheffler had 15 inches left for his par and was 3 up at the time, but gave Echavarria his par putt.

It’s also worth noting that this concession was all for naught. Splitting the hole extended the match.

But what I wanted the team to consider is much more than exercising sportsmanship when something is on the line. What spoke to me was that Scottie thought to do it in the first place. He let it be known that what happened on the tee box was not okay. And he took it upon himself, within his realm of control, to show that it wasn’t.

I cannot guarantee that my role as a coach (in the past) or now, as a chaplain will see to it that my golfers would do the same. But I hope, to be planting seeds and pointing the way so that it might. 

After recalling this example, I gave each girl a prayers card from the Australian Catholic Social Justice Council. On the back is A Prayer for Good Sports. I said "this isn't not something you need to say together. Maybe it's one that you keep in your bag and say on your own. It's a great reminder."

That, to me, is where a team chaplain comes in.

I’m not there to teach them how to pray over putts.

I'm there to invite them to consider: Who are they when they are frustrated? How do they respond to a bad break? How do they treat a teammate who is struggling? What happens when no one is watching? Can they find joy in the game without making their identity dependent on the score?

I’m there to help them pay attention to what golf—and the people they play it with—might be teaching them.

Photo Credits