Time for Dan Hurley to Stop Acting Like a Jackass
I’ve seen this movie before.
Coach wins a national championship, coach starts believing he’s untouchable, and then the antics kick in: berating officials, throwing tantrums, acting like the rules don’t apply to him. When I was a student at Indiana, I watched the next act of this tired script play out in person. Bob Knight, the General himself, couldn’t help himself. His temper and ego eventually overshadowed his brilliance, tarnishing a legacy that should have been untouchable. The program? It’s never been the same since.
Fast forward to today, and Dan Hurley seems to be angling for a starring role in the sequel.
Hurley’s fiery coaching style has always been part of his persona, but lately, it’s crossed the line from passionate to problematic. Case in point: the Maui Invitational. UConn, fresh off a 2nd national championship, squared off against Memphis in an overtime thriller. Instead of focusing on the game, Hurley decided to make it about himself. His sideline antics boiled over into a technical foul at a critical moment in overtime, one that contributed to UConn’s 99–97 loss.
Do you know hard it is to get a technical called on you in overtime?
And then, because this script isn’t complete without a post game meltdown, Hurley delivered. In his press conference, he slammed the officials for what he called “sh-tty calls,” claiming they were the reason his team lost. Never mind the fact that Memphis hit big shots when it mattered, or that UConn missed key opportunities to close the game. No, in Hurley’s world, the refs were the villains, and he was the misunderstood genius undone by injustice.
Sound familiar? It should. It’s the same hubris that led Bob Knight to throw chairs and launch into tirades that ultimately cost him his job. Hurley may not be chucking furniture (yet), but his behavior is starting to draw the same kind of attention — and not in a good way.
Here’s the problem: Hurley is too good a coach to act like this. He doesn’t need to scream at referees to prove his point or throw tantrums to rally his team. UConn is loaded with talent. They have a legitimate shot to three-peat as champions. But every time Hurley lets his temper take center stage, he detracts from his team and shifts the narrative to his behavior.
Referees aren’t perfect, and bad calls happen. I would know. I’ve been a high school varsity basketball official in Illinois and Arizona for the last 15 years. I know I’ve missed calls. I’ve even told coaches that in order to pull some empathy into the equation and diffuse the tension. Every coach knows you’ll run into an official that doesn’t see it the way you do. But it’s part of the job to rise above it, to show your players that adversity doesn’t mean throwing a fit or pointing fingers. Instead, Hurley doubled down on his sideline theatrics, turning what should have been a showcase game into a sideshow.
Fans noticed, too. Social media lit up with criticism, calling out Hurley’s “volcanic” behavior and questioning whether his antics are becoming more of a distraction than an asset. Even worse, his meltdown overshadowed what should have been the real story: Memphis’s gutsy win and UConn’s insane late stage rally to force overtime in the first place.
This is where the Bob Knight comparison becomes a cautionary tale. Knight was one of the greatest coaches in college basketball history, but his temper and ego ultimately defined him. As an IU guy, I hate that. The lesson? No one is bigger than the game, no matter how many banners hang in the rafters and no matter how many student-athletes you graduate.
Dan Hurley has a choice to make. He can continue down this path, letting his sideline antics overshadow his coaching brilliance, or he can take a step back and recognize that the game isn’t about him. It’s about his players, his program, and the legacy he’s building at UConn.
Because here’s the truth: no one remembers how many technical fouls a coach gets, but they do remember when a coach lets his ego get in the way of greatness.
Dan, for your sake — and for the sake of the Huskies — it’s time to stop acting like a jackass. Learn from the cautionary tales that came before you. The game doesn’t need another fallen star. It needs a leader who can rise above.
