Mindset
Coaching is Wrapped Up in Humility and Confidence
“We stand on the shoulders of those who came before us. No on succeeds alone.“
– Unknown
I spent this past week down in Phoenix, Arizona, as part of the ALTIS Master’s Program Residency—a space that, every time I visit, reminds me what great education feels like.
ALTIS, for those who don’t know, didn’t begin as the coaching-education juggernaut it is today. It started the other way around—as a high-performance training environment that later attracted an entire generation of curious, hungry coaches who saw something different in how ALTIS approached learning. Over the years, that pull became the catalyst for a shift. The more coaches who came through their doors, the more obvious it became that their real superpower wasn’t just training athletes—it was teaching people how to think.
Led by CEO Coach Stuart McMillan, alongside partner Coach Kevin Tyler, Coach Andreas Behm, and patriarch Coach Dan Pfaff, ALTIS has spent the better part of a decade building something world-class. Then, a few years ago, an Englishman with a basketball past and a deep love for change-of-direction research—Rich Clarke—approached Stu with an unconventional idea:
What if we built a Master’s program that matched the reality of a coach’s life?
Not an academic slog. Not a one-size-fits-all curriculum.
But a living, breathing program—paced for real people with real careers, grounded in science, rich in applied experience, and woven with mentorship.
That idea became the ALTIS Master’s Program. Now in its second cohort, it’s becoming a model for what high-quality coach education can be. And sure, the information is top-tier. The content is outstanding. But the real magic is that everything is delivered in context—messy, real-world, athlete-in-front-of-you context.
Still, what strikes me most every time I’m down there isn’t the curriculum.
It’s the people.
The educators and mentors ALTIS has assembled are exceptional—not because they posture expertise, but because they embody humility. They’re confident in what they know and skillful in what they do, but they also carry a deep understanding that certainty is an illusion. They know that the work is fluid.
They know that everything depends.
They know that absolutes are a comforting myth for people who need things to be simple.
Real coaching isn’t simple.
And strangely, acknowledging that isn’t destabilizing—it’s liberating.
It frees you to move forward with conviction, while staying open.
It grounds you in what you understand, while reminding you that the journey of knowing is never finished.
One of my mentors once told me something I’ve never forgotten:
“When you feel right about something, ask yourself three questions:
What do I know?
Why do I know it?
And… what if I’m wrong?”
That last one is the kicker.
It keeps you honest.
It keeps you humble.
It keeps you growing.
Being surrounded by mentors who live that truth—who model curiosity, vulnerability, and the courage to rethink—is a gift.
We all stand on the shoulders of the people who came before us.
None of us succeeds alone.
None of us figures this out in isolation.
Remember that.
