In the case of that team, nothing had gone “wrong” on the surface. Training sessions were running, initial roles had been informally assigned, and results in competitions were solid. But underneath, there was tension. The kind you feel before anyone names it. Subtle hesitations. Unspoken frustrations. Confusion about who leads when things get tough — and who follows.

That’s the thing about transitions: they’re rarely dramatic. They unfold quietly. In small behaviors. In who speaks up in team meetings. In who arrives early and who consistently doesn’t. In how conflict is handled — or avoided. In how equipment is treated.

It’s easy to overlook these moments. But they’re precisely where team culture is being negotiated. Not in the big speeches, but in the daily rhythms. And if no one is paying attention, those rhythms can start pulling the group in directions no one intended.

This phase of the season is so crucial. It’s not just a period of adjustment — it’s a window for intention. A chance to ask: What kind of team are we becoming? And is that actually the kind of team we want to be?

One book I really enjoyed that explores these questions is ​Legacy​ by James Kerr. In it, he writes about how the All Blacks approach transitions — not just as changes in personnel, but as opportunities to reinforce who they are. Today, their culture is famously intentional — but it wasn’t always that way. From sweeping the locker room to mentoring younger players, their values show up in the smallest acts. It’s not just about performance — it’s about character, identity, and what it means to wear the jersey.

That idea — that how you do anything is how you do everything — applies far beyond elite rugby. Because team culture isn’t something you declare once at the start of the season. It’s something you embody. Repeatedly. Especially when no one’s watching.

Are you collecting the empty cups left on the pitch after training or competition?

Are you entering the locker room with dirty shoes?

Are you picking up the item a teammate unknowingly dropped from their backpack?

In moments of transition, these small acts take on even more weight. They signal what matters now — what’s expected, what’s accepted. Whether consciously or not, teams are always answering the question: What do we stand for?

These behaviors might seem insignificant on their own — but together, they tell a story. About what we value. About what we tolerate. About who we are as a team.

That’s why this phase of the season is so important. It’s a time to ask not just what we want to achieve, but how we want to operate.

What kind of team do we want to be — day in, day out, regardless of results?

What do we want to represent when we walk onto the field, into the locker room, or through the door of the meeting room?

These questions don’t have to be tackled all at once. In fact, it might work even better to approach them gradually. For example, you could start with small-group conversations — two to four athletes at a time — to explore what matters to them, what they’ve observed, and how they imagine a strong team culture. Then, in a follow-up session with the full team, those different perspectives can be brought together.

When done this way, what emerges may not be just agreement — but a sense of shared ownership.

Different puzzle pieces, when placed next to each other, can reveal common ground and give form to something the team builds together.

Depending on your context, this process could unfold over two to three short sessions — ideally spaced across a week or two. The aim isn’t to create a flawless set of team rules, but to give space for reflection, alignment, and the beginnings of something intentional.

Because if we don’t shape culture, culture will shape itself — and not always in the way we hoped.

Right now, I’m having some of these conversations with a few of the teams I support. We’re taking time to explore who they want to be — not just in terms of performance, but in how they show up, how they treat one another, and how they represent the team beyond the scoreboard. It’s still a work in progress, but already, there’s a shift for some: more clarity, more connection, and a growing sense that everyone has a part to play in shaping the team’s direction.

So maybe this is a good moment to ask yourself — or the teams you work with: What kind of team are we becoming? And is it the kind of team we truly want to be?

Let’s keep building spaces where that question can be asked — and answered — together.