Even the Greats Are Forgotten
The uncomfortable truth about time, legacy, and what actually lasts.
In 100 years, everyone alive today will be gone.
Every coach pacing the sideline, every player chasing a dream, every fan yelling from the stands - gone. Every headline, every highlight, every argument about rankings and reputations - gone too.
The world will keep spinning. New teams will form. New players will rise. New “can’t-miss” prospects will be hyped, and new dynasties will fall. And the rest of us - the ones who gave everything to the game - will be names in a record book, if we’re lucky.
It sounds dark, but it’s actually freeing.
Because if everything fades, maybe it’s time to stop chasing what doesn’t last.
The Illusion of Permanence
Coaching - and life - trick us into believing we’re building something permanent. We pour ourselves into programs, systems, weight rooms, locker rooms, cultures. We chase legacy like it’s concrete, when it’s really smoke.
Here’s the truth that humbles everyone: Most people don’t even know their great-great-grandparents’ names. Think about that - people whose DNA you carry, whose decisions shaped your very existence, and yet they’ve vanished from memory.
If our own bloodline forgets after four generations, how long do we really think the world will remember the games we won?
Even the “greats” - the legends of their era - are remembered less for their records than for their impact. John Wooden’s championships mattered, but his character mattered more. Tony Bennett’s teams win games, but what endures is how he treats people. Bill Walsh changed football, but what people quote are his principles on leadership.
The scoreboard fades. The standard stays.
That’s the paradox of purpose: When you stop trying to be remembered, you usually end up leaving something worth remembering.
Perspective Is the Reset Button
A century from now, the stadiums we worship will be replaced or renamed. The trophies will gather dust. The jerseys will hang in new colors. The schools we defend like family might not even exist.
But somewhere, a kid will be learning to play the same game — because you taught someone who taught someone who taught them. That’s how legacy really works. Not through fame, but through fingerprints.
It’s not about how many people know your name, it’s about how many lives carry your influence.
That’s the real scoreboard.
What Will Outlive You
When the noise dies down, a few things remain:
- The standard you set when no one was watching.
- The example you gave when things went wrong.
- The way you treated people when you didn’t have to.
- The discipline, the faith, the patience, the care.
Those are the things that ripple. That’s the legacy that lives past the whistle.
So yes - in 100 years, we’ll all be gone. But the question isn’t how long you’ll be remembered - it’s how deeply you’ll be remembered by the ones who were close enough to see who you really were.
Coach Like It Matters
Fifty years from now, maybe someone will stumble across an old quote of yours. A drill you designed. A team picture. A sentence in a yearbook.
Maybe it’ll inspire them the way someone once inspired you.
And that’s enough.
So coach with purpose. Love your people. Give your best to the moments that will outlast you.
You won’t beat time. But you can make your time count.
Get started on CoachLync today!