In the realm of college athletics, the spotlight often shines on visible elements—the head coach strategizing from the sidelines, the prominent athlete dazzling under stadium lights, and the scores that flood social media feeds. However, the crucial work that lays the foundation for success frequently transpires behind the scenes. It involves private conversations, mentorship devoid of metrics, and leadership that emerges only after years of silent diligence. This essential yet unseen labor ultimately shapes whether a sports program merely achieves victories or establishes lasting significance.

Robby Emery exemplifies the dedication required for this kind of impact. As a pastor, public speaker, and Michigan Football’s Director of Character Development, Emery perceives success through a lens that transcends mere championships. He emphasizes that influence doesn’t necessitate visibility, posing a thought-provoking counterpoint to today’s attention-driven culture. “As soon as you choose to be a fan, you can’t be a friend,” he states. “But if you choose to be a friend, you actually have the influence you’re supposed to have.”

In an era characterized by challenges like NIL money, social media pressures, and constant scrutiny, Emery’s work becomes critical. He focuses not on managing perceptions but on cultivating character. As Michigan Football encounters both highs and lows, Emery’s unwavering presence serves as a poignant reminder that true character is developed over time and often tested when no one is watching.

A Calling Rooted in People

Surprisingly, Emery’s journey into high-performance settings was not driven by a desire for prestige. Instead, he’s clear about his motivation: “I wasn’t drawn by high performance. I was drawn by people.” This passion for relationships traces back to his adolescence. Around the age of 15, long before the dominance of social media, Emery made a heartfelt prayer to become a person of influence among those already in positions of power. For him, influence meant facilitating positive change through others rather than seeking fame.

“If I can influence the one who influences a million,” he explains, “then I don’t have to be that one.”

Over the years, Emery observed that individuals in influential roles typically possess a multitude of fans yet often lack genuine friendships. He has come to understand that admiration can build walls while authentic relationships break them down. “As soon as you take a selfie with someone, you can’t operate as a friend anymore,” he remarks, underlining that true friendship requires privacy, trust, and a selfless presence.

From Church Plant to the Heart of the Program

Emery’s voyage to Michigan Football began not with a formal job application but with the act of community building through a church plant. In 2016, he and his family returned to Michigan from Houston with the intention of starting a church. The endeavor necessitated evangelism, attentive listening, and fostering relationships with individuals seeking support. Among those he encountered was a young football player who had recently relocated from Houston to join the Michigan team.

This connection was not rooted in athletic fame—this player was only third on the depth chart—but rather in the need for guidance and community. Emery extended his hospitality by inviting the young athlete into his home for meals and Bible study. “Student-athletes can’t go to church on Sunday,” Emery says. “So we just brought church to them.”

Through this connection, Emery’s influence gradually broadened to include several athletes. Eventually, this organic progression led him to a formal role within the program. What stands out in this narrative is the absence of ambition; Emery was not intent on maneuvering through institutional hierarchies. His commitment was driven by a genuine desire to support those in need, and the larger impact followed naturally.

Culture Under Pressure: Trust, Accountability, and Leadership in Adversity

In the world of college football, there is little room for struggle to remain private. The mounting scrutiny amplifies every decision and intensifies the internal and external noise. Michigan has faced significant pressures in recent seasons, prompting the organization to confront its core values during the harshest critiques. For Emery, these challenging moments are not diversions from the mission; they are integral to it.

“The foundation of everything is trust,” he asserts. “It’s not a communication problem—it’s a trust problem.” During times of scrutiny, Emery insists that leaders must reflect on how they arrived at such a point. What gaps in expectations were overlooked? What conversations were left unexplored? He points out that accountability is often celebrated in theory but can be uncomfortable to practice, especially when it requires self-reflection.

His approach to fostering a healthy culture is straightforward yet profound: trust, healthy conflict, commitment, accountability, and results. Deviating from this order risks the entire structure’s integrity.

“Conflict isn’t bad; unresolved conflict is bad,” Emery explains. Healthy debates foster commitment, which leads to accountability and ultimately produces results. He adopts a realistic perspective on human nature, asserting that culture will lack boundaries if individuals do. Everyone has flaws, and maturity often comes through life’s responsibilities, be it through marriage, family, or leadership.

“You don’t know how selfish you are until life puts weight on you,” he observes.

Emery’s focus is on bridging the divide between espoused values and lived experiences. He aims to achieve clarity rather than cast judgment.

Identity Beyond the Jersey

Today’s college athletes face continuous identity challenges, exacerbated not only by performance demands but also the unrelenting feedback loops from social media and public opinion. Emery recognizes that one of his paramount duties is to aid young athletes in distinguishing their self-worth from their athletic accomplishments.

Often, he uses a ladder as a metaphor. “I want them to climb,” he states. “I want them to succeed, to fully utilize their talents.” Yet he stresses the importance of descending just as quickly. Praise can become intoxicating and perilous if internalized too deeply. “If you stay at the top, you’re going to fall,” he warns. “And falling from that height hurts.”

To emphasize this lesson, he employs another metaphor: juggling glass and rubber balls. Certain elements—family, faith, integrity—are glass; if dropped, they shatter. Others—jobs, roles, seasons—are rubber; they can bounce back. “You want to drop the rubber one,” he advises.

Emery reinforces that growth does not transpire on the mountain tops but in the valleys, in humility, and in the everyday journey of self-discovery.

Being Ready When You’re Chosen

The themes of readiness, preparation, and humility play a crucial role in Emery’s work. This philosophy is captured in his book, *Pick Me*. He recounts a moment during a concert when a young man from the audience unexpectedly joined the band to play guitar, performing flawlessly for a large crowd. What struck Emery was not the quality of the performance itself but the young man’s preparedness. “That kid didn’t know he’d be chosen, but he was ready just in case,” he reflects.

This message resonates deeply with the athletes Emery mentors, illustrating that opportunities often come unannounced, and one doesn’t prepare in the moment; preparation must occur long before those moments arise. This belief also shapes Emery’s vision for events like the Olympia Performance Weekend, emphasizing that athletes need solid grounding and discipline to navigate an increasingly complex landscape.

“What comes out when you’re bumped,” he states, “is what’s already in you.”

For Emery, a legacy isn’t a claim but a witness. It’s about being consistently authentic, regardless of external circumstances. It’s treating all individuals with respect, even under challenging conditions, and prioritizing family well-being. “I don’t want to have to speak to say something,” he concludes. “I want people to see it.”

In an industry driven by results, this perspective is notably countercultural—and possibly, the most enduring of all.