When Louisville basketball landed in South Bend, Indiana on February 15th, a short-handed Cardinals team was without one of its star players.
Head coach Pat Kelsey and his team trudged across a snow-swept runway to the team bus, took a short ride to Purcell Pavilion, and began walk-through preparations on the eve of Louisville’s matchup at Notre Dame.
Back in Louisville, Kentucky, 5th-year senior Terrence Edwards Jr. had slightly different plans.
That night, Edwards witnessed the birth of his son, Terrence Edwards III, or Tre.
The next morning, weather on the ground in Louisville and in South Bend delayed Edwards’ commercial flight to Northern Indiana. The coaching staff was prepared to send Edwards in a car in a pinch, providing whatever resources were needed to get Louisville’s newest father to his game in short order.
Edwards made it on time, though, and took the court for his 23rd start of the season. He played 34 minutes, racking up 14 points, 3 rebounds, and 2 assists. This came, of course, just a few hours after enduring a sleepless night alongside his girlfriend, and experiencing all of the firsts for a first-time dad.
In the days leading up to the birth of the newest Terrence Edwards, his teammates took it upon themselves to throw Edwards a baby shower. And upon his arrival just hours before the game, teammates met him with an outpouring of love and support.
That night, Edwards was with the team on a flight home, fresh off another start-to-finish thumping of an ACC opponent. That’s a result that has become commonplace for Pat Kelsey’s squad, who happened to notch its 20th win against the Irish.
In the grand scheme of things, this was just another night at the office for Kelsey’s team. Yet another obstacle met with unwavering focus and dedication to a meticulous blueprint.
Adversity from the jump
The odds indicated that the ACC title-contending Cardinals should not even be in the conversation as an NCAA Tournament team.
Not after a previous tenure that finished an astonishing 12-52 over two full seasons. Not after a complete restructuring of the coaching staff, roster, team managers, doctors, and more.
Most certainly not after the obstacles that have stood in the team’s way.
The unfortuitous attrition to the Louisville roster reminds one more of the Toon Squad’s halftime injury report against the Monstars than that of a program eyeing a deep run in March.
BYU transfer Aly Khalifa opted for a medical redshirt after a procedure to fix an ongoing knee issue. Former Charleston guard Kobe Rodgers joined Khalifa on the redshirt list after suffering a torn ACL in the first round of last year’s NCAA Tournament.
Next, following the second game of the season, 2024 Pac-12 6th-man of the year Koren Johnson injured his shoulder, electing to have season-ending surgery. If you’re keeping track, that’s three of Louisville’s 13 scholarship players sidelined for the season as it was merely 80 minutes deep.
A fourth season-ending injury came in Louisville’s 7th game of the season, star forward Kasean Pryor tore his ACL, requiring season-ending surgery and a lengthy recovery.
Then, forward Kader Traore, a heavily relied upon bench player, broke his left wrist in practice and missed 10 games in November and December.
Not soon after, big man Noah Waterman broke his thumb, requiring four pins to be surgically inserted. After playing through injury for weeks, Waterman shut it down for four games mid-season.
Star point guard Chucky Hepburn missed a game due to a pulled groin and has battled a number of bumps and bruises along the way.
Center James Scott fractured his jaw and shattered two teeth in a gruesome fall against Miami.
Still, this attrition hasn’t thwarted Louisville from its ultimate quest- A spot in the top echelon in the ACC.
Hit after hit, perceived bad break after bad break, Kelsey’s squad has not only found a way to win, but to do so convincingly.
At one point, Louisville won 10 consecutive games. The Cards have won 15 out of 16 dating back to December 21st. They sit inside the AP and Coaches Poll Top 25 and are second in the ACC Standings.
Louisville is on track, alongside Duke, to become the only teams in ACC history to notch 18+ conference wins… Ever.
A group of underrated, under-appreciated players- Most with little-to-no experience playing together- has become one of the best teams in college basketball.
Consider this: Louisville is dead last nationally in continuity. This iteration of the Cardinals consists of 13 scholarship players that were not on last year’s roster.
Yet, weeks away from Selection Sunday, teams with far more continuity and more perceived overall talent are losing sleep trying to game plan for Kelsey’s squad.
This is a Louisville basketball team that features nine players who were not even rated via the 247Sports player composite rankings coming out of high school.
The contributors who did find themselves in their respective class rankings- Chucky Hepburn (114th in 2021), Koren Johnson (132nd in 2023), and Khani Rooths (34th in 2024)- were lesser known commodities entering college.
Scott was unrated with his other best offer coming from Eastern Kentucky. Edwards was unranked and unrated when he committed to James Madison over Arkansas Little Rock.
Kader Traore was unrated player with no offers before committing to Long Beach State.
Pryor and J’Vonne hadley were unrated players who found themselves in junior college during their journey.
The same goes for Waterman, who spent four years at the mid-major level before emerging at BYU in 2024.
Reyne Smith was unrated. Kobe Rodgers? Unrated. Aly Khalifa? You guessed it- No ratings to be found via scouting services.
Frank Anselem (now Anselem-Ibe), a supporting cast member who plays sparingly, was the only other team member who received a recruiting ranking at 199th.
It’s a team that plays with hunger, grit, desire, and an unwavering dedication to one another and to the plan- Ratings and rankings be damned.
Never delay gratitude
It’s a single-digit January morning in La Grange, Kentucky. The sun hasn’t quite peeked over the snow covered tree line in my back yard. I’m standing next to my Keurig, listening to the machine’s morning groans, and eyeing a stack of dishes in a sink that I swear was clean and empty 7 hours ago.
Out of the darkness appears our 7-year-old, Ellie. She’s in a pair of thin, pink leggings, crocs, and a Buckner Bears t-shirt. I immediately go into stepdad mode wondering if it’s worth commenting on the lack of clothing and running the risk of a full on meltdown before my wife has had her coffee.
”That’s what you’re wearing?!” I hear from the top of the stairs. Our 10-year-old River has made his presence well known as he fumbles down the stairs, slides onto the couch, and stuffs his knees into the same Champion hoodie that he’s dawned since Christmas.
Ellie is now on all fours shoving her lunchbox into a backpack twice her size as my wife enters the scene, still half asleep. She grabs her coffee and my dad duties are momentarily complete.
”I love you!” I shout on my way back to the bedroom; Ted Lasso “Believe” coffee mug in hand. “I haaaate you,” Ellie shouts back as my wife nudges them out the door.
If you’d have told a freshly-divorced me four years ago that this is now my life, I wouldn’t have believed you. Uprooting one’s life to marry a then-friend, become a step dad, build a house a county over, and switch careers to spend more time with one’s family is absolutely as hectic as it would sound.
But here we are, and besides the unwillingness to accept the overall lack of personal space I’ve conceded for the next 10-15 years, I’m kind of crushing it.
My wife and I connected through a shared love for Louisville sports.
We spent much of the “dating phase” bonding on football-related road trips to Miami, Raleigh, Indianapolis, and more. We attended 27 (TWENTY SEVEN) Louisville basketball home games during the Kenny Payne era.
When we do get free time to ourselves, Louisville sports are the single most time-consuming parts of our lives.
Because of this, Patrick Kelsey has become a major, major deal in our household.
And since his hiring, the lessons we’ve learned along the way have influenced our life approach.
Kelsey looks at the world through a similar lens as me. Not a lens that is held in place by thick black frames; But a lens of compassion, resilience, and gratitude.
Kelsey is known to tout the guiding principles of his mentor, the late Skip Prosser. And among the maxims Kelsey frequently mentions, one stands out the most:
“Never delay gratitude”.
It’s a simple concept, in theory, but one that can significantly modify one’s mindset.
I’m a positive affirmations kind of guy. Without diving too deeply into the psychoanalysis of why that is, I firmly believe that positive feedback in real time is the most transparent way to communicate.
Something as simple as a “good job” can empower a struggling friend or co-worker. Simple, random acts of kindness can create a ripple effect. But, most importantly, putting the good energy back into the world immediately after receiving it is not only a rewarding endeavor, but an unspoken obligation we should all feel as humans sharing our humanness.
When Kelsey was hired at UofL, on his first day, he requested the numbers of some of Louisville’s most prominent figures- Boosters, donors, supporters of the program. Athletic Director Josh Heird gave him eight numbers.
Prior to Kelsey’s opening presser, he’d called on the eight Louisville supporters and requested 20 more.
It sounds simple. And, in essence, it is. However, true genuine appreciation for the opportunities one is afforded is an oft-forgotten core concept of our humanity.
During the previous Louisville basketball regime, blame shifting, finger pointing, and overall lack of accountability became commonplace.
Former head coach Kenny Payne’s post-game pressers became more of a must-watch than the forty minutes of basketball that preceded them.
Accountability starts from the top, and the more Louisville lost games, the more the blame was shifted onto anyone but leadership. The program was in purgatory. There was no discernible vision or direction on, or off, of the court.
It’s never productive to pick at old wounds, but it’s important to note that prior leadership expected their positions. Former players and other influential figures who advocated for Payne were frustrated that his hire didn’t come sooner. Gratitude was never extended. The disconnect was there from the jump.
When Payne left after two dead last finishes in ACC play and with a city and fanbase fractured, he pointed the finger back at the fans, players, and anyone but himself. To this day, he never took accountability or publicly showed gratitude and appreciation for the position bestowed upon him.
Enter Kelsey.
In a viral series of clips, Louisville’s new head man was in disbelief when he was handed the keys to the program.
In initial visits to the Louisville campus, he couldn’t make it 10 feet without greeting someone, showing excitement, and expressing gratitude. Hell, Kelsey thought his personal office was some sort of lobby or gathering area.
The excitement, for the first time in a long time, matched the magnitude of the moment.
When Heird called Kelsey about the job, Kelsey’s answer was simple: “I’d crawl there”.
In postgame pressers, Kelsey deflects responsibility for Louisville’s successes. If he ever responds in the first person, he quickly corrects himself and uses “we”. Kelsey constantly thanks his staff. Nearly every time he addresses the public, he calls out his strength and conditioning coach Eli Foy, his athletic trainer Katie Creznic, and Louisville’s sports information director, Dana Brown.
At the pinnacle of his profession, in one of the top 10 positions in the country, Kelsey took over the program at its lowest point and has things on track far ahead of schedule. He’s a leading candidate for National Coach of the Year. Yet, he deflects the credit and extends gratitude to those around him.
“25 strong”, he calls it. That is, 25 (or more) players, coaches, support staff, and others who play a role in the team’s success.
It’s never about him. It’s all about the bigger picture.
After sending my family off to school and work on some goofy ass Brady Bunch, Leave it To Beaver type vibes, I normally plop down with my dog, Jack, solve Wordle in like 3 guesses like a boss, check emails, and soak in the only 30 minutes of true silence I’ll get all day.
That’s where I was sitting when I started writing about my man PK. And, in this moment, all I normally feel is gratitude.
Gratitude, that is, for my position in life. For the opportunities I both am and am not provided. For a chance to give and receive happiness, love, and share this confusing but wholly rewarding human experience.
While most of us aren’t in positions of Kelsey’s influence daily, there’s much we can take from his doctrines.
Opportunities to extend gratitude present themselves in multitudes of ways. A shift in mindset is really all it takes.
When your partner takes care of something around the house, when someone lets you go in traffic, when a work team member lends a helping hand- You get the point, I hope. We constantly lean on others to make it in this life to varying degrees.
There’s opportunities to extend gratitude on a moment to moment basis. Sometimes, all you have to do is be open to looking.
“He Makes Coffee Nervous”
If you’ve listened to Pat Kelsey or followed his journey closely enough, you know that any notion of phoniness or anything falling short of what a true, genuine leader represents is patently false.
“Power of the unit”. “25 strong”. “Never delay gratitude”. His teachings are real and powerful – even to those from the outside looking in – because he embodies and exemplifies his message daily.
He exudes energy from his actions. His words are intentional. Most importantly, every single player, staffer, towel restocker, and Libman’s mop kid is bought all the way in. His team and staff is in lockstep with the vision. They live it, breathe it, sleep it, eat it as a midnight snack. His genuine energy, appreciation for life, and consistent wisdoms are blocking out the noise and soaking in the good stuff like an old man after a long schvitz.
Standing a generous 5’9”, often donning large, thick-framed glasses, and an always buzzing attitude, it’s easy to see why some don’t immediately buy into Kelsey.
No matter, says Kelsey. Give him five minutes and he’ll change your perspective.
Kelsey is a ball of energy. He strikes one as the type of guy who would hold the door for one person and turn down the opportunity to hand it off as half the damn town walks through. He has more energy than you do, and it’s not hard to notice.
Kelsey radiates positivity and his attitude and demeanor rarely change. Even the em-phAs-is that he puts on his syl-Ables is intentional.
As Prosser one said of Kelsey, “he makes coffee nervous”.
The next play is the most important
The easiest way to keep consistent energy and effort is to focus so intently on the day-to-day that you have no choice but for success to find you.
Kelsey seemed moderately peeved when he sat down for his postgame radio engagement after an eight-point win over FSU. He was upset that his team didn’t bring the right intensity throughout the contest.
“You have to make every possession the most important possession ever,” he said.
It’s yet another consistent focus for Kelsey and staff.
When asked about his team’s schedule in a preseason media engagement, Kelsey emphasized that his team’s exhibition against Division II opponent Young Harris was the only thing on his mind.
“It’s the most important game in the history of our program,” Kelsey explained. “Because it’s the next one.”
Kelsey even admits that he forgets what he’s doing tomorrow because of his laser focus on the today.
“Sometimes I don’t even know who we are playing next,” Kelsey said after his second win over FSU this season. “Today, I was just focused on Florida State.”
Now, I’m not advocating for you to go into work tomorrow and tell your boss that this is the most important day in the HR department’s history because it’s the next one. Or that you forgot about a deadline because you were so locked in on today’s shift.
But, hell, why not embody that attitude? What is the sense in working toward something if you treat the next day, or next step, as disposable?
If every day is the most important, then the increased care in which you treat each day becomes the new norm; It bleeds into every aspect of one’s life.
The most important thing, is the next thing.
Kelsey sometimes explains the math of his life philosophy as E+R=O, or Events plus Response equals Outcome.
“We have a formula in our program, and I live my life by it,” says Kelsey. “And our players told it to those guys earlier. E plus R equals O.
“’E’ are events and circumstances that you can’t do anything about.
“The ‘O’ is the outcome that you want to achieve. Can’t do anything really about that, but you can do something about the next thing.
“That’s your response (R). So you ask how we are going to go about it? The next thing we do, the next recruiting meeting, the next repetition in the weight room, the next individual workout, the next thing that we do is the most important thing in the history of our program. And we’re gonna be great at that. Now we’re gonna be great at the next thing, and then we’re gonna be great at the next thing.”
Tony Dungy explained this concept well in his book, Quiet Strength.
“Things will go wrong at times,” Dungy conceded. “You can’t always control your circumstances. However, you can control your attitude, approach, and response. Your options are to complain, or to look ahead and figure out how to make the situation better.”
Over the years, Louisville basketball fans have become accustomed to the volatility of player, media, and fan engagements from a coaching perspective.
For nearly two decades, now-St John’s coach Rick Pitino was a larger-than-life figure who ruled with an iron fist.
In this millennium, all Cards fans have known is authoritarian-style leadership. And when you’re winning, that’s seen as acceptable. Simultaneously, losing and also showing your ass doesn’t sit well with anyone. (Ask the folks in Storrs, Connecticut or Westwood, California).
In past generations, what one may have referred to as “tough love” was accepted, as long as the wins kept coming.
However, what Louisville basketball was in desperate need of was a leader who possessed the empathy and compassion to lead the way modern players desire to be led.
That doesn’t mean coddling or being overly gentle with student-athletes. But, rather, understanding the pushes and pulls for a modern young adult and then learning how to educate and motivate on their levels.
This is a task that led to a mass exodus of coaching legends.
Mike Kryzewski, Roy Williams, Jim Boeheim, Tony Bennett, and Leonard Hamilton have departed, or are departing, just in the ACC alone.
Amid ever-changing rules and evolving roles in the sport, there’s a new breed of coaches emerging.
Some of those iron-fisted rulers are hanging around, but have only found real success by adjusting to the times and accepting that change can be okay.
As Ted Lasso says, “Locker rooms are like my mother’s bathing suit. I only wanna see ’em in one piece.”
In a quasi-Lasso-like approach, Kelsey and his staff have taken that modernized slant to a new level.
There’s something so invaluable about transparency. And Kelsey has found a literal equation where his teams thrive in an open-minded, player-led environment. A place where every opinion matters, every voice is heard, and every piece is an invaluable cog in the machine.
Kelsey has an offensive and defensive coordinator. His staff scouts opponents far in advance and Louisville’s scout team works to learn the opposition’s plays and individual tendencies.
Coaches and players alike are extremely active on the Louisville bench. Always teaching. Always sharing information. Never allowing each other to get down on themselves.
Players often lead discussions in team timeouts. They are trusted to take the onus upon themselves and make adjustments accordingly.
When opposing teams are calling out plays, Louisville coaches and players shout out assignments from the bench, similar to great quarterbacks audible-ing at the line of scrimmage. Always one step ahead.
The communication never stops and the transparency and trust is readily apparent.
Louisville basketball is back in a major way, and positioned for both immediate and long-term success. This is due, in most part, to the program being the direct reflection of its relentless leader.
Billy Shakespeare had a famous line, “To thine ownself be true.”
Pat Kelsey is shaping the present and future of a program by being the most authentic version of himself possible.
Through gratitude, authenticity, and relentless desire, the impact of his presence is changing lives on campus and around the city of Louisville.
In the spirit of never delaying gratitude, here’s a heartfelt thank you to the legend, PK.
