UConn Traditions

Volume 7, Number 1 - Spring 2006

'I'm never sure it's good enough'

As head coach of the women’s basketball team, Geno Auriemma has led UConn to five national championships. He will be inducted into the Women’s Basketball Hall of Fame at ceremonies April 28-29, 2006, in Knoxville, Tenn., and is a finalist this year for induction into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Mass. His book, Geno: In Pursuit of Perfection, was published earlier this year with a foreword by Diana Taurasi ’05 (CLAS), who was named to the NCAA Division I Women’s Basketball 25th Anniversary Team in January.

By GENO AURIEMMA

Geno: In Pursuit of Perfection All of my scars are hidden.

My physical scars are on my stomach, covered by my clothing. They are my reminders of the hot coals that seared my flesh. I grew up in a little village in the mountains east of Naples, Italy, called Montella. We used to sleep in front of the fireplace because we had no heat. We didn’t have any electricity. We heated up our water over an open flame.

The only way to keep the little ones warm was to place the hot coals on the floor and place the babies in a circle around that pile of heat. On this particular day, I guess I fell asleep. My mom was out working, and no one was paying attention, and I toppled over the coals. By the time they pulled me out, my stomach was burned pretty badly. I don’t remember the pain. My mother said one of the reasons it took so long for someone to notice me was that I hardly made a sound.

The emotional scars aren’t as easy to see. I’ve got plenty of them, but there isn’t one person that knows all of my scars. I’ve acquired them from a life of questioning myself, of constantly striving to prove myself.

The scars come from being seven years old, coming to America from Italy and not being able to speak English.

I arrive in Norristown, Pennsylvania, and I don’t know the language. I don’t know the customs. I don’t dress the right way. I feel out of place, so I’m constantly self-conscious and unsure of myself.

Scars are part of you, whether you like it or not. Once you’ve been scarred, the marks remain forever. The key is, what effect does it have on you going forward?

I’m always amused when I hear people who don’t know me describe me as arrogant, insensitive, and overconfident.

They have no idea how wrong they are.

They don’t understand that even after winning five national championships at Connecticut, I still doubt myself all the time. They don’t understand that the image of me on the sidelines, the person they see on television prowling back and forth, is not who I am. You need a certain level of confidence to be successful at anything. I certainly have confidence. People think I have too much of it, and say it comes across as cocky, but the truth is, no matter what I accomplish, I’m never sure it’s good enough.

It’s never as good as it could have been, because I’ve never coached the perfect game, and my players have never played the perfect game. And when that flawed game is over, I’m convinced that it’s my fault, even if we win big.

Even after our perfect 35-0 season in 1995, the year we won our first national championship, I found myself going back and saying, “Why didn’t we execute that backdoor cut better? Why did their pressure bother us? Why didn’t I do a better job?” Those questions dog me. They stay with me, those scars, even though no one else can see them.

Table of Contents

	UConn Traditions

		Volume 7, Number 1 - Spring 2006 'I'm never sure it's good enough' As head coach of the women’s basketball team, Geno Auriemma has led UConn to five national championships. He will be inducted into the Women’s Basketball Hall of Fame at ceremonies April 28-29, 2006, in Knoxville, Tenn., and is a finalist this year for induction into the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, Mass. His book, Geno: In Pursuit of Perfection, was published earlier this year with a foreword by Diana Taurasi ’05 (CLAS), who was named to the NCAA Division I Women’s Basketball 25th Anniversary Team in January. By GENO AURIEMMA All of my scars are hidden. My physical scars are on my stomach, covered by my clothing. They are my reminders of the hot coals that seared my flesh. I grew up in a little village in the mountains east of Naples, Italy, called Montella. We used to sleep in front of the fireplace because we had no heat. We didn’t have any electricity. We heated up our water over an open flame. The only way to keep the little ones warm was to place the hot coals on the floor and place the babies in a circle around that pile of heat. On this particular day, I guess I fell asleep. My mom was out working, and no one was paying attention, and I toppled over the coals. By the time they pulled me out, my stomach was burned pretty badly. I don’t remember the pain. My mother said one of the reasons it took so long for someone to notice me was that I hardly made a sound. The emotional scars aren’t as easy to see. I’ve got plenty of them, but there isn’t one person that knows all of my scars. I’ve acquired them from a life of questioning myself, of constantly striving to prove myself. The scars come from being seven years old, coming to America from Italy and not being able to speak English. I arrive in Norristown, Pennsylvania, and I don’t know the language. I don’t know the customs. I don’t dress the right way. I feel out of place, so I’m constantly self-conscious and unsure of myself. Scars are part of you, whether you like it or not. Once you’ve been scarred, the marks remain forever. The key is, what effect does it have on you going forward? I’m always amused when I hear people who don’t know me describe me as arrogant, insensitive, and overconfident. They have no idea how wrong they are. They don’t understand that even after winning five national championships at Connecticut, I still doubt myself all the time. They don’t understand that the image of me on the sidelines, the person they see on television prowling back and forth, is not who I am. You need a certain level of confidence to be successful at anything. I certainly have confidence. People think I have too much of it, and say it comes across as cocky, but the truth is, no matter what I accomplish, I’m never sure it’s good enough. It’s never as good as it could have been, because I’ve never coached the perfect game, and my players have never played the perfect game. And when that flawed game is over, I’m convinced that it’s my fault, even if we win big. Even after our perfect 35-0 season in 1995, the year we won our first national championship, I found myself going back and saying, “Why didn’t we execute that backdoor cut better? Why did their pressure bother us? Why didn’t I do a better job?” Those questions dog me. They stay with me, those scars, even though no one else can see them. From Geno: In Pursuit of Perfection, by Geno Auriemma with Jackie MacMullan. Copyright © 2006 by Geno Auriemma. Reprinted by permission of Warner Books, Inc. New York, N.Y. Table of Contents
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