‘I couldn’t see my way out’: Geno Auriemma’s year of reckoning

STORRS, Conn. — From a fluorescent-lit hospital room, Geno Auriemma tracked his team from his phone.

The Hall of Fame coach – with 11 national titles, eight coach of the year awards and more games won than almost anyone who has ever set foot on a sideline – was waiting for a box score to update minute by minute.

Shorthanded as ever in that 2022-23 season, UConn defeated Florida State that Sunday afternoon. This was the machine he built over his four-decade career. Even without him, his players were OK.

But he was not.

Just a week and a half earlier, his mother, Marsiella, the “one constant” in his life, died at age 91. Her funeral was five days later.

And now, as the white coat sat down across from him, Auriemma knew he had been right to leave the team’s shootaround that morning. He has coached long enough to know the look on someone’s face when they have upsetting news, and he has lived long enough to understand that a hospital doesn’t bring a specialist into the room to tell you that everything is fine.

Auriemma needed surgery to unblock one of his carotid arteries. The procedure wasn’t urgent, but it was necessary.

The next day, as his team went into prep mode for Seton Hall, Auriemma had the surgery.

Outside of his family, he told five people the truth — his assistant coaches and his athletic director. Everyone else was told he had flu-like symptoms. “I didn’t want to scare them,” he says.

The hospital suggested a four-week recovery. Athletic director David Benedict said he should take as much time as he needed.

Seven days later, he was back at practice.

“You can’t get to where we’ve been without being the person who’s constantly chasing, constantly reaching, constantly wants more,” Auriemma says. “Whatever you have — it’s not good enough.”

Auriemma built the UConn dynasty by obsessively looking for what could go wrong. Admittedly, that was easy for him. He could always spot potential problems. The perfectionist in him thrived in this setting. But this time, too much was broken.

He was now the oldest living person in his family, and that reality hit him hard. His body reminded him that he was pushing 70. Meanwhile, he had five high school All-Americans sitting on his bench with a slew of injuries. The perfection he spent his life and career building was falling apart by the day, it felt.