• by Kaila Colbin , Featured Contributor, May 31, 2024

I’ve never been much of a sports follower. I’ve done all kinds of physical activities myself, but never got much into fandom.

That changed a few years ago. I found myself involved with our local rugby team, the Crusaders -- although “local rugby team” doesn’t really do them justice. They are arguably one of the most successful rugby franchises in the world, if not one of the most successful franchises of any sport.

The league they play in, Super Rugby, has been going since 1996. In 27 years, the Crusaders have been to the finals 18 times and won 14 championships, including the past seven in a row. They’re having a challenging season this year, but their overall legacy is unmatched.

My company, Boma, formed a partnership with them to create a leadership program with five of their greatest legends: people who had captained and coached the team to epic heights. People who had gone on to captain or coach New Zealand’s world-renowned national teams, the All Blacks and the Black Ferns. People who had gone on to captain or coach international teams as well.

Straight out the gate I realized I had to adjust my priors. Rugby is brutal. It’s like football except with no pads or helmets. At the end of a game there will inevitably be blood; injuries are common. Veteran players are often recognizable by their cauliflower ear: a deformity caused by blunt force trauma where the ear permanently swells up like a cauliflower.

Seeing all this physical aggression, I had failed to appreciate how thoughtful the players and coaches would be -- and how much I had to learn from them.

Take Sam Whitelock. Sam is a “lock,” one of the most powerful positions on the team. At 6’8” and 265 lbs, his job is to literally push against the opposition in the “scrum.”

He is insightful. He notices everything.

He notices, for example, the position of the sun when he’s talking to his team -- and he takes care to always face into it. If the sun is in his eyes, it’s not in his teammates’ eyes, distracting them and making it hard for them to listen to what he’s saying.

He notices the fact that he’s a big lad and can be physically intimidating. So, if he wants to dispute a call from the ref, he makes sure to approach side-on, and spread his legs a little to lower his height.

Or take Robbie Deans. “Deansy,” as he’s affectionately known, is renowned for taking new players out on his jet boat and letting them drive. When they get to a fork in the river and ask him which way to go, he stays silent until the last possible moment, finally responding, “Make a decision.” His message is that a bad idea committed to is better than a good idea not committed to.

Deansy also talks about the value of learning to be quiet: to create space for your team to grow into their own leadership potential.

The biggest thing I’ve learned from these guys can be summed up in two words: pressure and care. The entire Crusaders organization, from early days, made an intentional decision to build their efforts around culture. They support each other, they look after each other, they uplift each other when things are going badly and celebrate each other when things go well.

And this, to me, is the exciting bit. There’s a common myth that we must be vicious to succeed, that high performance equals ruthlessness. But my rugby legends have shown me the opposite: It is possible to be the absolute best in the world and still hold onto your heart.

And once you know that, why would you want to do it any other way?