The Journey — Yours, Not Theirs

We like to imagine careers as straight lines: you study, you graduate, you land the job, and you keep climbing. Some people do find their path quickly — they know their passion early, seize the right opportunities, and rise fast. But for many, the road is winding. It’s full of detours, setbacks, doubts, and re-starts.

You know the story: that friend who lands the high-paying consulting job senior year — seemingly “set for life.” Or the rival who brags about the Wall Street analyst offer, already talking about which Manhattan neighborhood they’ll move to. Is it the money? The perks? Maybe. But deeper down, it may simply be that they found something — while you’re still searching.

That’s why we love Dan Hurley’s story. Not because of UConn’s championships — though those are impressive — but because of his journey before the trophies.

Growing up, he was always “Danny, the other Hurley.” His father, Bob Sr., is a Hall of Fame high school coach. His brother, Bobby, was a McDonald’s All-American, a two-time national champion, and a first-round NBA draft pick. Danny? He struggled. At Seton Hall, he fought anxiety, battled the “yips,” and even stepped away from basketball. He admits he felt like a failure. For years, the comparisons weighed on him: why wasn’t he Bobby? Why didn’t the game come easy?

But that’s exactly the point. Danny Hurley isn’t Bobby Hurley. He’s Dan. Dan Hurley. His success didn’t come from becoming “the next Bobby Hurley” — it came from finally becoming Dan Hurley. And his career — coaching high school teams, grinding through the mid-majors, pushing through doubts — is a story of resilience, identity, and persistence. It’s proof that success doesn’t mean “being the best” by someone else’s standard. Success is becoming who you’re meant to be.

This is not about Dan vs. Bobby. They’re family, and they love and support each other. Bobby’s path was dazzling from the start: high school stardom, Duke glory, the NBA. Dan’s took longer. Years, even. With setbacks. But eventually, Dan carved his way forward — becoming one of the most respected college coaches in the country. Neither story is “better.” They are simply different. Each successful on its own terms.

We all wrestle with this. Why does it seem easier for my brother, my sister, my friend, my rival? Why am I not there yet? Dan’s journey reminds us: the path doesn’t have to be perfect. It doesn’t have to be straight. It has to be yours.

Sometimes in life, you put the wrong feathers on your arrow. You shoot, and you miss. Or maybe it flies straight for a year or five years — only to realize it’s not the direction you want for the rest of your life. That’s not failure. That’s learning.

Some people do hit a bullseye with their very first arrow. And we celebrate that — the prodigies, the ones who seem born for a single path. But the truth is, those stories are rare. Most of us are fletching, refletching, and learning to aim again.

Dan Hurley’s story is exactly that. He shot arrows that wobbled. Some missed. But he kept fletching, kept aiming, until he found the arrow that was truly his.

That’s the truth about life after college: the journey is yours. Others will walk alongside you — friends, mentors, family. But the choices? They’re yours. Law school — is that for you, or for your parents? An MBA — do you want the office life, or just the size of the W-2? Opening a restaurant — is it passion for cooking, or running a business?

Some will give great advice, some won’t. Some will cheer, others will compare. Take it all in. But never forget: the journey is yours.

At Fletcher Circle, we celebrate that moment of ownership — when “Danny” becomes “Dan.”