I was particularly honored to interview Shane McLeod, the head coach of the Red Lions, Belgium’s men’s hockey team. Not just because I’m a hockey player myself, but mostly because I’m genuinely impressed by the journey the team has made under his leadership, on and off the pitch. The Red Lions didn’t just win all possible prizes in hockey with their play; they also won the hearts of sports lovers and non-sports lovers alike, thanks to their sportsmanship, authenticity, and impact, both in Belgium and abroad.

Shane describes himself as a selfless leader. And that sentiment runs through everything he shares. He reflects constantly, on his strengths and weaknesses, on what drives him and what holds him back. But his answers almost always start from the other: from his coaching staff, his players, and the broader environment. “I have a naturally high sensibility,” he says. “I observe things very well and I call them out.”

That is Shane’s essence. His role, he believes, is to help people see what they might overlook. “My role is probably mostly to make people aware of what they miss, to state the obvious, always with the objective to help the team grow.”

For Shane, essential to any player is a playing style that fits the team and the willingness and ability to match the team identity. And he has two teams: his coaching staff and his players. Both carry the responsibility to the outside world, modeling their values and beliefs and acting as ambassadors for Belgium.

I ask how that identity was built at the Red Lions. “It kind of grew organically, I think,” Shane replies modestly. “We have built a narrative around it which works from an organizational and a motivational perspective, and we look to express it in the small things, in simple acts of kindness.”

But the concept of a team is never fixed. Players come and go. How do you make sure that evolution doesn’t harm the team identity, or better yet, keeps strengthening it?

Shane compares identity to the sun. “A sun that sheds its light on different items all the time. Now it is shining on this group of people; tomorrow it might be a different group, but still the same team.”

They have some clear principles within the Red Lions. When the sun shines on you, it comes with responsibility. Respect the past and those who built what you now stand on. Make the most of the present. And leave something better behind. “The challenge for these players is they don’t always know when the sun will shine for them. It is team first, team identity before individual identity. And it has been proven that players who respect the most the team identity are the most respected players,” Shane explains.

Still, he admits they didn’t manage that transition perfectly when the team finally obtained the number-one position in the world rankings. “We were great hunting that number-one position, but were not used to being hunted. We thought we could stay there, but probably neglected too long that we needed a new goal.”

That led to stagnation. But it also led to valuable lessons. “We learnt from that period. That’s why you see us now experimenting with new players, new game plans. We can’t grow if we don’t fail. And I am sure we will be better equipped to stay at that number-one position when we get there again.”

Ironically, his greatest strength -his sensitivity- also played against him. Holding on too long to certain players delayed the entry of younger talents. His coaching staff, as well as his wife, gave him this feedback.

Feedback. Another big word. Shane is a modest leader, but without blinking, he states: “We become excellent in feedback.”

I expected theories and frameworks. But Shane talks about “mini-conversations.” Every time he steps into his car, he calls someone -a coach or a player- and shares an observation.

“Always with the intention to help the individual grow and help the team grow. Small things, often with the invitation to do more of that or to repeat it if useful, or to work on it if I think it is holding them or the team back.”

Doing this consistently, but with balance, he creates genuine connection. “Athletes are constantly being watched, and they need appreciation. Yes, they have an ego, and of course they want to be better than their teammates, but this helps them remain true to their individual identity whilst supporting the team identity.”

So both for team identity and playing style -the two essential components to be a Red Lion-Shane consciously calls out the good and the bad, amplifying their impact in a contagious way.

We’ve spoken so much about identity that I want to know how he, as a Kiwi, sees this national pride the Red Lions are now generating. He smiles. “Wearing the national shirt inherits our values,” he says. The same goes for the All Blacks in his home country by the way. “Belgium is a small country, with little competition. And given its surreal history, people traditionally have little pride in being Belgian. But people need role models, and they love an underdog story.”

He continues, “To be honest, it just happened. The team felt the country got behind them and wanted to give something back. It became a virtuous circle, and the team loved it. A nice illustration: the Brabançonne they sung a capella in Tokyo. My only role in that was to share the observation and call it out. All the rest came from the team.”

I want to understand how Shane became the coach he is. It turns out: more serendipity than strategy. He began as an assistant coach in New Zealand, working with someone he greatly admired. After six months, that coach left, and Shane became the interim replacement.

“I didn’t feel ready for the responsibility, so I involved the players as much as possible, in everything. It led to a pretty simple game plan, but an incredible connection and engagement. We beat the Netherlands and qualified for the Olympics. I had to accept the role.”

Still, he didn’t feel like a head coach. “I wanted to better understand the game. So I started to study. A lot. I spent more time behind my computer than with the team. And we started losing games we shouldn’t lose. Worse, I started losing the group.”

That was his awakening. “I decided to evolve from telling to talking again.”

Yet that experience had a silver lining. He now needs little time to craft and understand a game plan, freeing up more time to focus on people. He strongly believes that the best leaders are forged in their deepest moments. And he’s open about it.

“Vulnerability is fundamental to create trust. It shows we are all human, which allows my players to also be human. They are all the best version of themselves, but they will only be better versions next week if they dare to make mistakes. They know someone will take care of them when they fail.”

Shane loves the current period of transformation. The Red Lions just finished the Pro League, and the European Championship is next. They won some games. They lost some others. But winning wasn’t and isn’t the goal at this stage, developing is.

“I enjoy more growing those youngsters and developing the team than winning prizes. It is far more rewarding as a coach to make the team better. And to be clear: this remains true when you are number one. It might be harder, but there are always marginal gains. You just have to keep it inspiring.”

They’re currently looking at top basketball teams for example, studying how they increase pressure.

“We have to make very clear what the goal of each game is. The longer we keep players in their development zone in the ramp-up toward our main objective, the better they will peak when necessary.”

And that main objective? The Olympics is always an obvious one. A clearly defined moment to peak. When we shift the conversation to the business world, Shane offers a powerful analogy:

“Businesses should create their own Olympics. Create utter clarity about what is expected, when, and what good looks like.”

Just like athletes feel the pressure from the crowd when losing, business leaders face pressure from stock markets and short-term expectations when their objective isn’t clear.

“Always keep an eye on the prize,” Shane says. “But be very explicit about what the prize is.”

Before we close, I ask: what happens when the game doesn’t go as planned? How much freedom do players get?

“Our game plan is mathematically as efficient and clear as possible, taking into account the economies of movement with and without the ball. The frame is clear, but the players are free to paint within that frame.”

That means players sometimes don’t play in their best position or favorite role, but always to benefit the collective. Team dynamics over individual preference.

I press further: can the plan change mid-game? Yes, but they aim for simplicity. Why? “It is all about synchronicity. And too much variety will kill that. We need to make sure 16 players can execute our game plan, and therefore we need to be in sync. It is almost something spiritual. When I see people in the team start to mirror each other, I know there is true connection. I know they are in sync. I know we will be at our best.”

His one piece of advice to the next generation?

“Jump. Jump when you are scared. Only then will you grow. There will always be someone to catch you, if you are brave enough to jump.”

I would love to continue our conversation, but players begin arriving for training. I see Shane’s attention shift -his head and heart- to what matters most to him: his team. Fully ready to observe, to call out, and to lead them toward to that number one position again.