On July 7, 2016, Lynx coach Cheryl Reeve woke up in her Uncasville, Conn., hotel room to the news.
Philando Castile had been shot during a traffic stop in Falcon Heights, Minn. The day before, a black man, Alton Sterling, had been shot by police outside a store in Baton Rouge, La.
"I couldn't imagine how they were feeling," Reeve said of her team. "I couldn't sit back and do nothing."
After the morning workout, Reeve asked her four captains, "What should we do?"
They gathered beside the court and talked. Seimone Augustus about how that store in Baton Rouge wasn't far from where she grew up. Rebekkah Brunson about growing up as a kid in Oxon Hill, Md., often seeing the police, guns drawn, running through the apartment complex.
"I remember we left shootaround," Reeve said. "I called the league. I said, 'Want to give you a heads up, this is something we're upset about. This is something we're going to do. ?"
The members of the Lynx are family.
Family.
Maybe the most overused word when it comes to sports. That, or chemistry. A cynic will tell you that closeness comes from winning. That championship rings, heavy and encrusted with jewels, are the real ties that bind.
Reeve and the Lynx might make you reconsider that notion.
Nearly three months ago, in Williams Arena, where the fans' shrill screams may still be ringing, the Lynx won their fourth WNBA championship _ matched only by the Houston Comets, who won the league's first four crowns.
Reeve came to Minnesota in 2010 having won a couple of rings as an assistant in Detroit. A year later the Lynx started a stretch in which they have won four titles and gone to six championship series in seven years. The Lynx have gone from also-rans to being in the conversation when it comes to the best team in the league's 21-year history.
It is for all these reasons that Reeve has been named the Star Tribune's 20th Sportsperson of the Year. Look at the results, the unselfish play, the unity. Reeve's leadership _ off and on the court _ and her ability to emotionally connect with her players have resulted in a stretch of greatness that should spill into its eighth year next summer.
There was luck. Winning the draft lottery and Maya Moore. Getting Brunson in a dispersal draft.
But, through it all: Reeve.
The Lynx traded for Lindsay Whalen and won their first three titles with three different centers. Competitive and capable, Reeve has used intensity and empathy to build a dynasty. She was the one who created an organization that MVP center Sylvia Fowles was willing to sit out a half-season to join.
Whalen will tell you Reeve changed her life. Augustus her career. Moore says Reeve has the unique ability to describe a goal while prescribing a way to get there.
Reeve likes to describe herself as the mother of an extended family. She has the players' backs but isn't afraid to kick their butts. Most of all, she appeals to the team by investing the time to understand what the players need. And when.
That day in Connecticut is just one example. Reeve always involves her captains in major decisions. Back in 2016 Reeve and the players talked. They decided upon a T-shirt to be worn during warmups before the next home game. In a news conference the four captains _ Moore, Brunson, Whalen, Augustus _ wore black shirts. "Change starts with us," the shirts said. "Justice and Accountability." On the back, Sterling's name, Castile's name, the emblem of the Dallas Police Department, whose members had been ambushed that week.
"Black Lives Matter."
There was pushback. Four off-duty police officers walked out of Target Center that night. But talk to Reeve, talk to the players, they'll say a dialogue was started. And, agree or not, the players saw a coach who cared.
"It came from our hearts being broken," Moore said. "And she let us focus on it. She let us be human."
Moore will tell you that approach makes everyone a better player. Whalen says that makes a team more than a team.
"All those battles? All those years," Whalen said. "We're family now."
