In an office, natural sunlight is beaming through two eastern-facing windows at the end of the room. No artificial light is needed on this abnormally sunny April day in Seattle. A shelving unit is packed with videos of practices, games and competitors. Underneath one window is a ledge covered in picture frames of various sizes holding images of the treasures that Coach Jim McLaughlin keeps close to his heart: his family and his players. One frame holds a photograph of his daughters, three dark-haired swimming beauties with goofy-colored swimming goggles taking a break from rambunctious water games to flash a smile at the photographer.

On the only wall that is not dedicated to displaying the career highlights of his team, a whiteboard is covered with writing in multi-colored dry erase pens. The contents of the board are numbers, abbreviated words and a five-month handwritten calendar amongst drawings and scribbles illustrated by Coach McLaughlin’s young daughter. “Come home early Daddy” is written in the delicate and innocent handwriting of a child, with drawings of flowers surrounding the message. In case the receiver needed clarification, the time of five o’clock has been included as a reminder of when his family expects him to arrive home.

In the center of the room is a circular table topped with papers and an open laptop computer. A tall-framed, fair-skinned man sits at the computer concentrating on the screen. He is casually wearing purple track pants, a grey t-shirt with purple letters spelling WASHINGTON across his chest and Nike running shoes on his feet. The graying, strawberry-blond man scratches his mustache and starts the video of practice footage on his computer as he waits for two of his players to arrive for an afternoon meeting.

Jim Mclaughlin has been coaching volleyball for 17 years. In this time, he has mastered the skill of strong leadership and coaching. He started at the University of Washington as head coach for women’s volleyball, but with a losing team. In the year prior to his arrival, the troubled team placed last in the region. When the athletic director at the UW first offered McLaughlin the position of head coach, he said no. At the time, seven years ago, he was the head coach at Kansas State University and had helped them advance to the Sweet 16 in 2000. Moving from a winning team to one in last place was not appealing at first glance, but with further thought and discussion with his coaching mentor, volleyball guru Dr. Carl McGown, making the transition sounded like the right thing to do for his career and family. McGown convinced him that his talent at coaching would flourish if he accepted the opportunity. Mclaughlin took the job knowing that it was going to be hard work, but the only place to move was up.

Upon the arrival of two of his players, junior middle blocker Jessica Swarbrick and sophomore defensive specialist Tamari Miyashiro, nicknames and jokes fly, lightening the mood. As the girls settle in to watch the previous day’s practice tape, Miyashiro offers to help dim the room by pulling down the blinds. After a few tries, she awkwardly lowers the blinds halfway and giggles as Swarbrick announces sarcastically: “Perfect.”

Miyashiro grabs the strings again and sets back to work, finally lowering the blinds completely. “Tama aren’t there blinds in Hawaii?” McLaughlin jokes.

Miyashiro adjusts her chair, and the expression on McLaughlin’s face becomes all business as the video starts to play. The coach and his two players watch attentively as their figures move across the screen. Dig here. Spike there. “You tell me what you see here,” McLaughlin says to the girls, urging them to share their opinions.

He wants them to see what he sees. He strives to teach them, and they desire to learn. “You will be the best in the country,” he says assuredly, and the two players blush and smile proudly.

After years of studying how to coach with the desire to find the best way, McLaughlin’s style is unique. “There are 100 ways to skin a cat but there’s a right way, a better way to skin a cat,” he says. “It took my entire career, and I’m still learning, but I finally feel like I’ve found the pot of gold, and I have become a much better coach.”

This “pot of gold” he refers to is Motor Learning Principles, a style of coaching that focuses on muscle memory and repetition with a mindful purpose. When McLaughlin teaches the principle, the correct movement becomes an automatic response; therefore, his players cannot help but pass the perfect ball, spike the perfect down-the-line shot or block every ball that attempts to zoom past. “They are students of the game,” he says of his players. “When you start to get a return on it, the gratification for all the hard work is just awesome… I can’t put that feeling into words.”

Watching the coach interact with his players, one thing is clear: the use of the word “we.” As McLaughlin excitedly fast-forwards, rewinds and slow motions the footage on the screen to point out certain movements, correct and incorrect, the word is comfortably tossed about. “We gotta figure out how we’re gonna do that,” and “We’re all in sync here, all three of us,” he states as he points to the screen.

McLaughlin makes these statements to show his players he wants to help them learn. “We are a family,” he says. “We’re all in it together.”

The relationships that a coach has with his players are crucial in building the team. According to McLaughlin, “The single most important element in my program is the quality of the relationships within the program.”

With this element, team members develop closer ties and come to know each other so well that every one in the program knows exactly how to help everyone else.

McLaughlin has had a career of coaching both men and women and says it is important to coach them the same way, but when it comes to how his coaching is reciprocated, the importance of practicing the life skills taught in the program is more important for women to see in a mentor than men. “The biggest thing is if you’re coaching them and you know the game, you can be kind of a goof in your life and men will still respect you. Women aren’t like that,” he says. “Women want someone that they can respect in every aspect of their life.”

“You were the defensive player of the year, and I think that’s awesome, but I want you to be better next year,” McLaughlin says to Miyashiro, his star defensive specialist. “If you want to jump serve and win the National Championship, we’re gonna need to do more than one morning a week. Don’t miss class, but I will come in at seven in the morning if you want me to,” he offers.

McLaughlin’s expression becomes straight and serious to prove to Miyashiro that he means business and to remind her that he wants to help her learn and improve for the upcoming season in order to achieve their goals.

The light flips on, and the screen rises as the coach and his players make arrangements for extra practice between their classes. The whiteboard, which has been covered by the projector screen, once again reveals the five-month calendar. McLaughlin explains what it all means, and how important it is for him to achieve his goals. “I go one day at a time, and I want to do the best I can on this one day, and then I circle the day,” he says as he demonstrates his method by circling the current date, April 24th.

As for the future, 10 years from now, “I will be 57 years old!” he exclaims.

Taking a deep breath, Coach McLaughlin searches inside to find a serious answer. With the dream of more National Championships, he excitedly states, “I see myself still coaching at Washington.”