Life’s Work: An Interview with Mike Krzyzewski

Over four decades of coaching men’s basketball—including a stint at his alma mater, West Point; 36 full seasons at Duke University; and a simultaneous 11 years with the U.S. national team—Krzyzewski, age 70, has garnered more than 1,000 wins, five NCAA championships, and three Olympic gold medals. “Coach K” is a master recruiter, mentor, and manager of talent. HBR: How have you been able to do the same job so successfully for so many years? Krzyzewski: I love what I do. When I was 16, I dreamed of being a teacher and a basketball coach, and wow, I got all these opportunities, and I’m still following that passion. I’m at an amazing institution—Duke—in an environment with great people. I also had the past 11 years with USA Basketball and my first five years coaching at my alma mater, West Point—terrific organizations and people too. That leads to great results. So you’ve never felt any burnout? You took time off this year for surgery. Unfortunately, I couldn’t wait on that, but I left the team in capable hands, planning to return when I’d healed. The only time I’ve felt burnout was actually after my first back operation, in the mid-1990s. I returned to work after two days. Then, about a third of the way into the season, I lost my physical and emotional strength, and I had to step away for a few months. In the nine years before that, we had gone to seven Final Fours. My schedule was nuts. And I never took time to critique how I was handling things. I was just moving forward. But that setback prompted me to change a lot: delegating more responsibilities, not micromanaging, being a different type of leader. Since then, my energy and hunger have never wavered. Do you manage your Duke players and your coaching staff differently? You’re the same leader, trying to build trust, cooperation, loyalty, collective responsibility. But it’s the difference between dealing with men, who have already crossed bridges on their own and with you, and young men, who you’re trying to cross bridges with to produce relationships that last forever. How do you persuade top recruits to play for you? I have a great product: a track record of excellence. Guys coming in get better in every way. But that’s true for other programs, too. So it’s not about persuading or selling. It’s about telling the truth—who you are and how you’ll do it—and then trying to learn about the player and figure out if that’s what he really wants. You might find it’s a perfect situation for him. Or that others work too, which means you might not get him and maybe that’s better. We also look for three things: the talent to be on a championship team; a love of academics and a willingness to work, because they’ll need that at Duke; and character, which is maybe the most important. Are they good guys? Team players? How do they interact with their parents, teammates, teachers? Thank goodness we’ve found a number of kids who fit that profile. Duke players used to be known for graduating. Many now play one year and leave for the NBA. How have you adjusted to that new paradigm? The environment has changed. If Christian Laettner and Grant Hill were here today, there would be a lot of pressure on them to go pro after one year. You don’t get players of that caliber for four years anymore. But we’re still recruiting the way we did before, still looking for those three things. If we get an outstanding player, and he does well and has the opportunity to go early, that’s a business decision for him and his family. He has to do what’s best for him. But the question for any player should still be, “How can that school make me better?” And ours still does, even in less time. Of course, the result is that I don’t always know who my team will be next year, and we have to put more effort into recruiting because players like that take two or three years to get. When you lose them after one, you need to work harder to sustain the same level of success. Should college players be better compensated for all the work they do? I’m a huge believer in giving kids as much as possible under what I would call a scholarship umbrella. Can you provide injury insurance? Can you clothe or feed them better? Can you give them the current cost of attendance? I think in the past three years, what a college player gets has gone up immensely. People tend to either love or hate Duke. What do you tell your players about how to handle both very high expectations and sharp criticism? The first thing is, “Thank God you’re in a position that people notice you. But remember that you’re part of something bigger than you.” Everyone will have impressions, expectations, jealousies. Our players have to learn to live and get better in that type of environment. When your players make mistakes, or fail to live up to the standards you set, how do you discipline them? I do whatever the situation requires. I try to not have a template for handling these things. I don’t believe in doing what people tell me I’m supposed to do. When they say, “He did that, so you should do this,” my attitude is, “He shouldn’t have done that. We are taking responsibility, and I don’t need to tell you how.” As a teacher, I respect an individual’s right to be taught in private as much as possible. What’s the key to motivating a team—both when it’s doing really well and when it’s not? You have to show motivation yourself. They have to see it in you on a day-to-day basis. The older professionals understand that you have to show up every day, no matter what, no excuses. With 18- to 23-year-olds, consistency is harder. So you have to hold them accountable and ask questions: “Why didn’t you show up today? Do you have a strong enough desire to improve? Are you afraid of something? Is it your sleeping habits or your diet?” Eventually you get to a point where they’re motivating themselves. How did you adjust your style to coach professionals on the national team? With a college group, I’m teaching and they’re learning. I’m changing the limits of what they think they can achieve, speeding up the pace, letting them know they’re not the only good singer in the group, helping them play together, learn from one another, and trust that if they fail, someone will be there to help. With the U.S. team, some of their best practices are better or more appropriate than mine. So we adapt to one another, and all take ownership. Communication is a big thing. I talk to each of them about their habits and favorite plays. At one of my first Olympic practices, Jason Kidd, one of the great point guards, asked me what I wanted him to do. I said, “Just be you.” You don’t want to change them. You just want them to mesh their extraordinary talents with those of the other guys. It’s important to always ask yourself, “Who are you leading? What experience do you have with them? What is your mission?” It’s not like one leadership style works in every situation. How did your army training influence the way you coach? Immensely. I believe West Point is the best leadership school in the world. I learned there that in order to change limits, you will look bad at times. You will fail. But that’s not where you stay. You figure out how to get better and how to make sure it doesn’t happen again. Failure is not a destination. Weakness becomes strength. You need to be a lifelong learner and believe that you can improve. Also, it takes teamwork. You’re not going to do it alone. You also played for and served under Bobby Knight. What were some of the most important lessons he taught you? He was an outstanding coach technically, which helped me learn the game. And he was an intense preparer. If you couple preparedness with the passion to win, there’s a good chance that you’re going to be successful. I also admired the emotional investment he made in each of his teams, each of his games. How have rivalries, like the one you had with Dean Smith, helped you? I try not to coach against other coaches; I coach against teams. As a young coach, I never thought, “We beat Dean Smith’s team. Now I have arrived.” That’s not how you win championships. But you do learn a lot from playing against great teams and coaches—their strategies, how they find your weaknesses, what they do during games—and it makes you prepare more and work harder. Dean was one of the great coaches of all time, and a really good man, and he built something that will last forever. Competing against that makes you better. Your wife and daughters have always been involved in your work. Why did you choose to mix the personal with the professional? It just came naturally. My wife is smart, and from the start, the suggestions she made and the things she did were good and appropriate, and made me and the program better. The perspective of four women is different from this man’s world I live in, and that helped me grow. We call ourselves the starting five. One of your biggest career decisions was to turn down offers to coach in the NBA. What stopped you? I’ve been fortunate enough to be asked several times. The toughest ones to decline were the Celtics in 1990 and the Lakers in 2004. But at the end of the day, I love college basketball more. I really love Duke, and I’m really happy I’ve stayed. Those were not hard decisions. When and how do you expect to retire? I don’t want to plan it. If you do, and the time comes, and you’re not ready, that’s bad. So is waiting for the time you’ve planned when you should have already gotten out. I’m involved in teaching, speaking, and other things that I can go to if I stop coaching. But I’m not prepared to leave my post, to use a military term, right now. I’m still excited about this command.

Life’s Work: An Interview with Mike Krzyzewski

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