I just finished watching Coach Carter for the third time, and man, this movie still hits different every single time. If you haven’t seen it, do yourself a favor and watch it. If you have seen it, watch it again. There’s something about Samuel L. Jackson playing Coach Ken Carter that just cuts through all the noise and gets right to what matters.
At 43 years old, having grown up in Harlem and lived through enough ups and downs to write a whole library of books, I’m finally understanding what this movie was really trying to tell us. And I mean really understanding it, not just hearing the words but feeling them in my chest, you know?
The Message I Missed Back Then
Here’s the thing that got me on this third viewing: the movie isn’t just about basketball. It never was. Coach Carter locked that gym and made those young brothers sit in a library because he understood something that most of us don’t figure out until we’re decades removed from our playing days. He understood the hierarchy of what actually matters in life.
Now, I’m gonna say something that might ruffle some feathers, but it’s the truth as I see it: life skills are more important than academics and athletics combined. That’s right, I said it. But in that same breath, academics is way more important than athletics. And before all my former teammates start blowing up my phone, let me be clear—I’m not saying athletics isn’t important. It absolutely is. It just isn’t as important as we thought it was.
Back when I was playing ball, doing my thing on whatever court or field I could find? You could not tell me this. Not a chance. I had dreams, just like those Richmond Oilers. I had that same fire, that same belief that my athletic ability was my ticket. And I’m not alone in that thinking—according to the NCAA’s own research, less than 2% of college athletes go pro. But when you’re 16, 17, 18 years old with a nasty crossover or a jump shot that doesn’t miss? Those statistics don’t mean nothing to you.
What Growing Up in Harlem Taught Me
Growing up in Harlem, I saw it all. I saw cats who could ball like they were born with a basketball in their hands. And I saw most of them end up right back in the same neighborhood, wondering what happened to those dreams, working regular jobs—if they were lucky—because they put all their eggs in one basket.
The movie shows this reality in Richmond, California, but it could’ve been filmed on 145th Street. The challenges facing urban youth are universal, even if the zip codes are different. Coach Carter understood that his players needed more than a championship. They needed a foundation. They needed critical thinking skills. They needed to know how to show up on time, how to honor commitments, how to communicate effectively. They needed life skills.
The Real Hierarchy
So let me break down this hierarchy the way I see it now, with over four decades of living under my belt:
Life skills sit at the top. We’re talking about knowing how to manage money, how to communicate, how to handle adversity, how to show up consistently, how to build relationships, how to problem-solve. These are the skills that determine whether you eat or starve, whether you build something lasting or watch it crumble. Coach Carter teaching those young men about respect, accountability, and discipline? That was life skills education disguised as basketball practice.
Academics come second. Education opens doors. It teaches you how to think, not just what to think. It gives you options. When that jump shot stops falling—and it will stop falling for all but the tiniest fraction of us—you need something else. You need the ability to analyze, to learn, to adapt. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics shows that education level directly correlates with earning potential and employment opportunities. Those aren’t just numbers on a page; that’s real life.
Athletics come third. Now hold up before you think I’m dismissing sports entirely. Athletics teach discipline, teamwork, resilience, goal-setting, and how to handle pressure. These are valuable lessons. But here’s the reality: your athletic career has an expiration date, whether that’s in high school, college, or even if you’re blessed enough to go pro. Life skills and education? Those stick with you until your last breath.
What I Know Now
What gets me emotional about Coach Carter is watching him fight against the very people who should’ve been supporting his vision. The parents, the school board, even some of the players themselves—they couldn’t see what he was trying to give them. They thought he was taking something away by locking that gym. But he was offering them the world.
I think about the contracts he made those players sign. How many of us would’ve benefited from someone making us commit to our education with the same intensity we committed to our sport? How many of us would’ve had different outcomes if someone had taught us that the classroom was just as important as the court?
At 43, I understand that Coach Carter wasn’t the villain in that story. He was the only adult in the room who loved those kids enough to tell them the hard truth: basketball would end, but life would continue. And if they didn’t prepare for life after basketball, they’d end up like too many talented athletes before them—full of “what ifs” and “could have beens.”
The Truth We Need to Hear
This movie resonates because it’s telling us something we don’t want to hear but desperately need to understand. Your talent, whatever it is, isn’t enough by itself. You need the life skills to navigate the world. You need the education to create opportunities. And yes, you need the discipline and lessons that athletics can teach you. But get the order right.
I’m writing this for that kid who’s me twenty-five years ago, thinking his athletic ability is all he needs. I’m writing this for the parents who are pushing their children toward athletic scholarships without equally pushing them toward genuine education. I’m writing this for anyone who’s conflating athletic success with life success.
Watch Coach Carter again. Watch it with fresh eyes. Watch it understanding that Ken Carter wasn’t trying to destroy dreams—he was trying to build foundations strong enough to support whatever dreams those young men wanted to chase. He was teaching them that their deepest fear wasn’t that they were inadequate; their deepest fear was that they were powerful beyond measure.
And that’s real talk.
Life skills first. Academics second. Athletics third. All three matter, but the order? That’s everything.
Your moves.
—Van
