Los Angeles Sparks head coach Curt Miller has been a basketball scholar since his early days. He is obsessed and gritty, a film enthusiast for whom the gospel of the game is presented and studied with such zeal that he is one the game’s most fervent and ardent believer. But even for this disciple, helping coach Team USA to the Olympic gold in Paris was a journey beyond the rhythmic sounds of basketballs bouncing off wooden floors. Competing in Paris was a pilgrimage filled with sacrifice, inspiration, and moments that live in memories long after the medals are stowed away.
Because Miller has had the experience of being with the USA team in different qualifying events, training camps, and World Cups, he is adept at the rigors of the international stage. When the organizers crown you and your teammates as the best players in the world, you understand the gravity of the American flag and the pressure from millions waiting back home as the sport slowly gains traction in the country. But what struck him the most about the experience wasn’t just the spectacle or the glory––but the sacrifice.
“You know, with the exception of maybe Aja Wilson and Breanna Stewart, everyone is sacrificing and not truly being themselves on that team for the betterment of that team,” Miller reflected. His voice sounded contemplative as he recalled the practices, the locker rooms, and the private conversations. “It’s an uncomfortable basketball situation for the greatest players in the world because they can’t always be themselves. They’ve got to sacrifice. The sacrifices that goes into that team being successful is amazing.”
And that is the beauty of it. It wasn’t about the individual stars shining bright on their own. It was about how they dimmed their lights just enough to let the entire constellation glow. “They have to play not necessarily their games that they’re going to come back to their own individual teams and play, but in order to keep that dynasty that USA Women’s Basketball is really remarkable to be in it day in and day out.”
For him, the word sacrifice seems so holy when it come to how Miller views the women’s team. Maybe it was sacred the way the team was able to use their ability to set aside personal pride and self-gain for the benefit of something beyond themselves. He saw it intimately daily as if he were not a participant. He observed how they played. They each understood the limited shots they’d get. There would not be 20 shots in a game as they are accustomed to playing for their WNBA teams. Miller saw it in the selflessness, transforming great players from lesser deities into tremendous teammates. And he saw it in the cuts, the in-between time, like hotel mornings in a breakfast restaurant when Breanna ‘Stewie’ Stewart would wake up way earlier than most everyone else while being a superstar basketball player and a mother.
“Watching Stewie be a mom, like it was unbelievable,” Miller said, his tone a mixture of awe and affection. “The grind that goes into and the pressure that Stewie has to be one of the best for us, and to wake up the next morning and see her with her two children in the breakfast room up earlier than almost anyone and watching her being a mom and trying to win a gold medal it’s just, you know it was a special journey.”
There was a pause as if Miller was still processing the enormity of it all. “I totally think different of Stewie and Sabrina after coaching them and have such a special relationship with them,” Miller said. “To be in it day in and day out with them, they just think you’re the crazy opponent coach through the years, and we have perceptions of these great players, but when you get to know them individually was really cool for me.”
For Miller, the journey with this team wasn’t just about winning gold. It was about forging relationships beyond the court’s scope and pursuing a collective goal that all parties desired, respected, and understood. But those forged bonds lingered with him beyond all the X’s and O’s and the hours spent in film rooms studying the sets and tendencies of opponents. The depth of these relationships and the understanding and respect underpinning them were a testament to the team’s unity and strength.
That is why Miller understood that his function in that team was not only to deploy strategies or scout. What Miller did see, and what he saw in those stolen moments of humanity, sacrifice, and grace was much richer than the footage on the screen could convey.
When the final buzzer sounded in Paris, with Team USA on top of the world, standing on the podium with their gold medals dangling from their necks under the bright lights, it was not just for the team, it was for all of us. It was for America. That was the essence of everything that Miller has learned about the game and life. Occasionally, the best victories are not about success per se but how much one is prepared to sacrifice for such victories. The weight of their sacrifice and their commitment’s enormity was a victory.
For Miller, basketball is something special. It’s more than a sport. It is, in a sense, a means of communicating, or at least a means of acquiring an understanding of what it means to exist, to develop, to be a member of our world, and to see what is done in the promotion of our nation.
Follow Eric on X @elambsquared and Instagram @elamb5quared.