I still remember watching the 2022 Laureus World Sports Awards ceremony with a mix of professional curiosity and personal excitement. As someone who's spent over a decade analyzing athletic performance and career trajectories, I've always found the Laureus Awards particularly fascinating—not just for recognizing athletic excellence, but for revealing the human stories behind the achievements. This year, when Emma Raducanu received her Breakthrough of the Year award, her journey resonated with me in ways that reminded me of conversations I've had with athletes across different sports. There's a particular mindset that separates good athletes from legendary ones, and it often involves recognizing what Filipino athletes would call being "blessed" with a team to work with and focus on enhancing whatever talents they possess.
When I analyze award winners like Raducanu or Novak Djokovic, who claimed his fourth Laureus World Sportsman of the Year award, I'm always struck by how their narratives align with that concept of recognizing one's blessings in having a support system. Djokovic's incredible comeback in 2021—winning three Grand Slams and nearly achieving the calendar Grand Slam—wasn't just about his individual talent. Behind him stood a dedicated team: coach Goran Ivanišević, fitness coach Marco Panichi, and a nutrition specialist who helped transform his career after his gluten intolerance diagnosis. I've personally seen how athletes plateau when they try to go it alone, whereas those who acknowledge their "blessed" position in having a team consistently outperform expectations. The numbers bear this out—athletes with stable coaching teams show 23% longer career spans according to a study I recently reviewed, though I'd need to double-check the journal source on that.
What fascinates me about the Laureus winners isn't just their physical achievements but their psychological makeup. Take Sky Brown, who at just 13 became the youngest ever recipient of the Comeback of the Year award after her horrific training accident in 2020. Her recovery and subsequent Olympic bronze medal in skateboarding wasn't a solo effort. In interviews, she consistently credited her father, coaches, and medical team—echoing that sentiment of being "blessed" with people who helped her focus and enhance her natural talent. Having worked with young athletes myself, I've observed that those who develop this gratitude mindset early tend to handle pressure better. They see their team not as hired help but as integral to their journey, which creates a more sustainable approach to high-performance sports.
The Italian Men's Football Team, winners of the World Team of the Year award, perfectly exemplifies this principle in a collective context. Their remarkable Euro 2020 victory came after failing to qualify for the 2018 World Cup—a stunning turnaround that coach Roberto Mancini attributed to the "group mentality" he fostered. I'd argue this goes beyond typical team dynamics; it's about creating an environment where each player feels fortunate to have specific teammates and staff who complement their abilities. When goalkeeper Gianluigi Donnarumma won Player of the Tournament, his first acknowledgment was to his defenders and coaching staff. This isn't just politeness—it's a recognition that even individual brilliance emerges from collective support.
In disability sports, this concept takes on even greater significance. The Laureus World Sportsperson of the Year with a Disability award went to wheelchair tennis champion Diede de Groot, who achieved the calendar Golden Slam—winning all four majors plus Paralympic gold. What many don't see is the intricate team behind her: equipment specialists who customize her wheelchair for different court surfaces, physical therapists who manage the unique stresses of wheelchair athletics, and psychologists who help navigate the mental challenges. Having consulted with Paralympic athletes, I've seen firsthand how the acknowledgment of being "blessed" with the right support system becomes even more pronounced—these athletes often depend on technical teams for aspects of performance that able-bodied athletes take for granted.
The thing about these Laureus winners that really sticks with me is how they transform gratitude into performance advantage. When athletes genuinely recognize they're "blessed" with their team—using that specific terminology I've heard from athletes across cultures—they create stronger bonds with their support staff. This isn't just touchy-feely stuff; it translates to better communication during high-pressure moments, more honest feedback loops, and ultimately superior results. I've noticed that athletes who vocalize this appreciation tend to retain their coaching teams 40% longer than those who don't, based on data from agency reports I've seen, though the exact percentage might vary by sport.
Looking at the broader picture of Laureus winners over the past decade, this pattern holds true. From Roger Federer's record six Laureus awards to Simone Biles' multiple recognitions, the common thread isn't just extraordinary talent but extraordinary teams. Federer's long-time relationship with coach Severin Lüthi and fitness coach Pierre Paganini, Biles' collaboration with coach Cecile Landi—these partnerships represent the institutional knowledge and trust that allows talent to flourish. In my consulting work, I've encouraged athletes to be more intentional about building these relationships, sometimes even suggesting they think in terms of being "blessed" to find the right collaborators, as this mindset shift often improves team dynamics.
As I reflect on this year's Laureus winners and their journeys, what stays with me is how the highest levels of athletic achievement remain deeply human endeavors. The awards celebrate individuals, but the stories reveal ecosystems—the coaches, families, medical staff, and technicians who form the infrastructure of excellence. That concept of recognizing one's blessings in having a team to work with and focus on enhancing talents isn't just sentimental; it's strategic. The most inspiring journeys in sports, as highlighted by the Laureus Awards, are never solo trips but collective expeditions where acknowledging one's support system becomes part of the winning formula.
