It’s interesting how a simple weekend chore like spring cleaning can offer a window into the parts of ourselves we often ignore. Throughout the year, we get busy—especially in the sports world. We’re always running from one game to the next, breaking down the latest training camp updates, analyzing statistics, and gearing up to cover major events like the NCAA tournament. So, the rare moments of calm when we finally have time to dust off the old shelves and reorganize our living spaces can feel oddly reflective.
For me, this year’s early version of ‘spring cleaning’ has paralleled what we’re seeing from Dan Lanning’s glimpses into his personal life. We can get so caught up in each story about recruiting battles, each final score, and every highlight reel. But then a short video emerges—Lanning laughing with his sons, attempting a tricky mini-golf putt, or high-fiving them after a strike on the bowling lanes—and we’re suddenly reminded that there is so much more to these coaches than their titles. These people are, at their core, parents, mentors, friends, and family members.
When you think about it, the activities Lanning shares—bowling and mini golf—are downright ordinary. In fact, they’re so routine that they often get dismissed as “family weekend” stuff, the kind of pastime many of us might do without a second thought. That’s precisely why it’s so refreshing to see Lanning enjoying these quintessential moments. If you’re someone who primarily knows Lanning as the bold, tough leader of a program, it’s easy to overlook the simple truth that he’s also a dad who loves to hang out with his kids.
In many ways, this dovetails with our own experiences—balancing careers and families, trying to find time for both work and play. We often think our identities revolve around what we do to earn a living, especially if that work is in the public eye or comes with a certain level of recognition. But the reality is more nuanced. Being a coach, a writer, or a spring-cleaning warrior doesn’t fully capture who we are. We are defined by the sum of our relationships, our passions, and our day-to-day experiences that never make it to the headlines.
And that’s what spring cleaning, ironically, can teach us: we strip away the clutter, both literally and figuratively, and remember the simpler pleasures that form the backbone of who we are. For those of us who love sports—fans, coaches, writers, and players alike—these rare, quiet moments are reminders that life isn’t all about the spotlight or the scoreboard. Instead, it’s about connecting with family, building memories, and making sure that amid the rush of responsibilities, we don’t lose sight of what really matters.
From the outside looking in, Dan Lanning can seem larger than life—he leads a prominent football program, commands a massive audience, and stands on some of the biggest stages in college sports. Yet, off the field, there’s a dad cheering on his son’s attempts at mini golf, a father teaching his kids how to keep score at the bowling alley, and a person who appreciates the kind of day off that keeps the important things front and center. It’s important we see him—and ourselves—in that light. We might be immersed in our jobs, but they don’t define us completely.
So, as we march toward spring ball, try to remember that balance matters. Enjoy the big-time matchups and the endless excitement that baseball and March Madness bring, but I hope we don’t forget that behind every highlight reel or breaking news segment, there are real people, with real families, living real lives.
Yes, Dan Lanning is a coach. Yes, he has a pivotal job in shaping a football program and, in turn, the experiences of many athletes. But he’s also a father, and those small slices of his everyday life—just like the dusting and vacuuming many of us are doing in our homes—reflect the whole person. When you see him on the sidelines or the press conferences, I want to keep that in mind. And let it remind me that we, too, are multi-faceted individuals. We’re not solely defined by what we do to pay the bills or make headlines; we’re shaped by the relationships that matter most, the activities that ground us, and the moments that, in the end, make us feel whole.
