The Art of Resetting: What Chris Fagan’s 20km Walk Teaches Us About Leadership
There’s something profoundly human about the image of Chris Fagan, the Brisbane Lions’ coach, walking 20 kilometers on a Sunday, phone glued to his ear, dialing player after player. It’s not just a story about a coach fixing a team’s slump—it’s a masterclass in leadership, vulnerability, and the art of resetting. Personally, I think this anecdote reveals far more about Fagan’s philosophy than any post-game press conference ever could.
What makes this particularly fascinating is how Fagan approaches failure. After a 76-point thrashing by Carlton, most coaches would’ve opted for a fiery team meeting or a brutal game review. Fagan, instead, took a walk. Not just any walk—a 20km marathon of introspection, punctuated by 20-odd phone calls. This wasn’t about tactics; it was about connection. What many people don’t realize is that leadership often thrives in quiet moments, not in loud confrontations.
From my perspective, Fagan’s method is a brilliant example of emotional intelligence in action. By talking to each player individually, he humanized the loss. He didn’t treat it as a systemic failure but as a collective moment of imperfection. If you take a step back and think about it, this approach flips the script on accountability. It’s not about pointing fingers but about understanding why the team fell short.
One thing that immediately stands out is Fagan’s humility. He admits he doesn’t always know when his team is off their game. “It’s hard to tell,” he says. This honesty is rare in a world where coaches are often portrayed as all-knowing strategists. What this really suggests is that even the best leaders are often flying blind, relying on intuition and trust as much as data.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how Fagan handled the Carlton loss. He barely reviewed the game. Instead, he focused on the players’ mindset. This raises a deeper question: In high-pressure environments, is it more important to dissect failure or to rebuild confidence? Fagan’s approach implies the latter. He didn’t need to relive the loss; he needed to reset the narrative.
In my opinion, this is where Fagan’s genius lies. He understands that teams don’t lose because they lack skill—they lose because they lose faith. By walking and talking, he reminded his players of their pride, their streak, and their potential. It’s a psychological reset, not a tactical one. And it worked: the Lions bounced back with a 67-point win over Hawthorn.
What this really highlights is the power of individual attention in a team setting. Fagan didn’t just address the group; he addressed each player’s unique perspective. This isn’t just coaching—it’s counseling. It’s recognizing that behind every jersey is a person with doubts, fears, and aspirations.
If you take a step back and think about it, Fagan’s method is a blueprint for any leader facing a crisis. Whether it’s a sports team, a startup, or a family, the principles are the same: listen, connect, and reset. What many people misunderstand about leadership is that it’s not about having all the answers—it’s about asking the right questions.
Looking ahead, Fagan’s three-peat dream remains alive, but the real takeaway here isn’t about premierships. It’s about the resilience he’s built into his team. By treating losses as human moments, not disasters, he’s created a culture that can absorb setbacks and bounce back stronger.
In the end, Fagan’s 20km walk isn’t just a story about a coach fixing a team. It’s a reminder that leadership is about walking alongside people, not just directing them. Personally, I think that’s a lesson we could all use, whether we’re on the field or off it.
