As you get older, you get less people to hold you accountable

Diana Taurasi once said: “As you get older, you get less people to hold you accountable, especially in pro sports. The players have all the power. Unless you play for the Spurs. Then you’re a college kid for life.” Though lighthearted in tone, her words carry the weight of wisdom, for she is not only speaking of basketball, but of human growth, responsibility, and the rare power of a disciplined culture. She points to the paradox of maturity: with age often comes freedom, but also the danger of losing the guiding hands that once shaped us.

To be accountable is to be held to a standard beyond one’s own desires. In youth, coaches, mentors, and teachers press upon us, demanding discipline, correcting our flaws, refusing to allow complacency. But as one ascends into the realm of professional sports, wealth and status often invert the balance. The players become powerful, and few dare to challenge them. In such freedom lies both temptation and peril, for without accountability, greatness can be lost in self-indulgence. Taurasi’s words are a reminder that unchecked power, even in the arena of play, can weaken the spirit.

Yet she lifts up the example of the Spurs, a team revered not only for championships but for culture. Under the stern yet wise guidance of Gregg Popovich, players, no matter their age or stature, are treated like college kids—required to listen, to learn, to be humble, to remain part of something larger than themselves. In this, she praises a system that refuses to let maturity breed arrogance, that keeps even the mighty tethered to discipline. The Spurs, in her vision, embody the rare balance: freedom tempered by guidance, excellence strengthened by humility.

History, too, offers parallels. Consider Alexander the Great, who conquered much of the known world before he was thirty. As his power grew unchecked, few dared to restrain him, and his empire fractured after his death. Contrast him with Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher-emperor, who surrounded himself with teachers and wrote reminders in his Meditations to hold himself to account, even when no one else could. One fell to the intoxication of freedom; the other clung to the discipline of accountability. Taurasi’s comparison to the Spurs recalls this truth: even the greatest need chains of humility.

The wisdom in her words is not confined to athletes. In every walk of life, as one rises in rank—whether in business, art, or leadership—voices of correction grow fainter. Few dare to speak truth to power. Thus, the burden falls upon the individual to seek accountability, to remain teachable, to remember that greatness fades when one forgets to be a student. The college kid spirit, the willingness to learn and submit to guidance, becomes the safeguard against decline.

Her words also shine as warning: power without accountability breeds decay. Teams fall apart, leaders lose their way, and individuals destroy what they once built when no one dares to correct them. The Spurs stand as a symbol of what is possible when a culture demands humility at every stage, where even legends must sit in the classroom of discipline. This is why their success is admired not just in victories, but in the character of those who wore their jersey.

Therefore, let this lesson be taken to heart: seek accountability, no matter your age or station. Surround yourself with those who will correct you, who will demand more from you than you demand of yourself. Resist the illusion that maturity frees you from discipline. Instead, be as the college kid for life, humble enough to be taught, strong enough to be corrected, and wise enough to know that true greatness is not in power alone, but in the humility that preserves it. For as Taurasi reminds us, freedom without accountability is the path to ruin, but discipline with power is the path to enduring greatness.