Early during this year’s March Madness, I said, “My annual worry with the Bruins: they don’t have enough ‘dawg’ for the SEC teams and Coach Cori overcoaching in big games.” Well, I was proven wrong on both counts. The 2026 National Champions got there by defeating the two best teams in the SEC, and by the end, Cori Close had ascended to join the ranks of the most quotable and noteworthy coaches in basketball. It wasn’t the Xs and Os that garnered so much attention for UCLA’s leader, though I think that’s an underappreciated aspect of her attributes; it was how she talks about the culture she’s cultivating, the lessons and habits she’s building in her locker room, and her commitment to never losing sight of her role as an educator and dream merchant. The best coaches in women’s basketball all seem to have these qualities, but what clicked for Close this year is that she’s figured out how to do it her way: earnest, selfless, demanding, hokey, and, perhaps most important of all, joyful.
“I love these girls,” is what Most Outstanding Player, Lauren Betts, has been saying during their whirlwind media tour since winning the championship. There’s something going on in Westwood. Unabashed happiness. Relentless care. Both in pursuit of excellence. We’ve seen it at gymnastics meets and volleyball matches, and most recently at Easton Stadium with the ninth-ranked softball program.
Last year, I couldn’t put my finger on what was behind my allegiance beyond proximity, but on a beautiful day watching the Bruin bats dismantle the Cal Bears in a doubleheader, I realized that it’s about more than being able to get to campus in twenty minutes or less. The softball squad exhibited characteristics similar to those of the championship basketball team. During every pitch, infielders constantly encouraged whoever was on the mound. When someone was at the plate, the coach was, to use the parlance of athletes, pouring into them. Before blasting her 31st homerun of the season, senior Megan Grant was encouraged by Coach Kelly Inouye-Perez to “send a missile.” And over the back wall, she did. On the rare occasion a pitch made it past one of her players and was called a strike, Inouye-Perez turned into their advocate, informing the umpire that “it wasn’t a good pitch,” calling out the particulars that made it as such. Regardless of the outcome of each at-bat, hitters were told they had made good choices. “Pro choices.” “Team choices.” Each person seemed encouraged to bring their unique flair to their position, while all were incredibly invested in their collective performance rather than individual success. During the afternoon, Grant and fellow senior Jordan Woolery became the first teammates in NCAA Division I history to collect 30 home runs in a single season. The Bruins would break three other school and conference records during the two wins.
After the games, three graduating seniors were informed that they had been given golden tickets to be drafted by the fledgling Pro Softball league, AUSL. “She wants her girls with her,” Elle Duncan would say after Meg received her ticket. She’d get her wish granted. Twice.
Like Betts and the basketball squad, it’s team over everything.
In this era of “I alone can fix it” ruthless individualism, I’m most inspired by evidence of earnest, joyful, hardscrabble people working together.
I shouldn’t have been searching for the dawgs on the bench; the interlocked hands and confident smiles were more than enough.
Can I get an eight-clap?
