01/20/2026
IU’s Hoosiers Win it All – a Psychiatric Reflection
Louis B. Cady, MD
Last night, the Indiana Hoosier’s football team did something so audacious, so historically rude, that it forced the college football world to collectively stop chewing its nachos and look up from the couch: a national championship, capped by a 16–0 season—a feat so rare it hasn’t been done since Yale football led the sport back in 1894 when leather helmets were considered cutting-edge technology. This wasn’t a fluke. And it wasn’t about “buying talent.” This was the result of one of the most deliberate, disciplined, and old-school rebuilds college football has seen in decades, led from the top with precision and character.
It started, as all good stories do, with a man who believed in himself. He walked into a packed gymnasium at Indiana university on November 30, 2023, and had the audacity to say, “I win. Google me.” The players call him “Coach Cig.” His name is Curt Cignetti.
It’s interesting to note that Indiana just didn’t stumble into Coach Cignetti. They recruited him—intentionally, precisely, and with a clear-eyed understanding of what the program needed. Not a celebrity. Not a recruiter with a TikTok following. A program BUILDER. From day one, Cignetti made it clear: this wasn’t about star-chasing. This was about fit. He recruited players the way a master craftsman selects tools—nothing flashy, everything purposeful. Football IQ. Coachability. Emotional maturity. Not “five-star recruits,” but young men who could handle accountability without melting down on Twitter. Indiana zigged while everyone else zagged. As a psychiatrist, I’m impressed that Indiana didn’t buy talent; they invested in alignment with emotionally mature, hardworking, disciplined young men that passionately wanted to win. Simple, unrestrained “talent” leads to hot do***ng, DUI’s, bar fights, and social media drama. Alignment wins championships.
If you watched even one press conference this season, you heard Coach Cignetti repeat the same words with almost irritating consistency: FOCUS and CHARACTER. Also, by the way, “grit.” And “culture.” Focus meant do your job, every snap, every rep. Character meant "who you are when no one’s filming." Grit meant DO THE WORK. Study the films. Know your routes. Culture meant, “we’re all going to work together and win this thing as a TEAM.”
It showed on Saturday “college football.” And it certainly showed last night.
Indiana didn’t beat itself. No stupid penalties. No sideline meltdowns. No blown assignments that made viewers throw their remotes. This team played clean football.
One of Cignetti’s most quietly radical moves was his insistence on shorter, ultra-disciplined practices. Less wasted motion. Fewer meaningless reps. Maximum attention to detail.
The result? Fresher legs. Sharper ex*****on. BETTER MENTAL CLARITY. Fewer injuries during the season. Fewer errors in the fourth quarter— during the season and in the title game. Those results are all when championships - and academic and professional careers, metaphorically - are ultimately decided.
Discipline isn’t sexy. It doesn’t “trend.” But discipline is undefeated when it’s paired with belief.
Nowhere was that belief more evident than in the words of Fernando Mendoza, Indiana’s Heisman Trophy winner—and one of the most refreshingly unselfish stars college football has seen in years.
Listen to his interviews. Over and over again, he redirected praise back to his teammates. The offensive line. The receivers blocking downfield. The defense getting the ball back. This is mental and emotional maturity. It’s called “emotional intelligence.”
“We won together” wasn’t PR polish. It was his worldview.
Great teams have stars. Legendary teams have leaders who refuse to act like one. This championship season was all about that mental and emotional maturity from the top down, as well as precision in ex*****on.
Every roster move had a reason. Every game plan reflected preparation, not improvisation. Indiana didn’t try to win every snap with brilliance—they won with consistency, not to mention coaching brilliance. The decision to “go for a first down” on a fourth down play last night in the fourth quarter, instead of settling for kicking a field goal, was an example of that brilliance. And it set up one of the most heroic touchdown runs by a college quarterback, ready to sacrifice his body that I’ve ever seen. This is how you make history – as leaders and as a team - without ever losing your identity.
In a college football world increasingly allergic to patience, and swimming in millions of dollars that are getting thrown around, where five-star recruits and teams are getting “bought,” Indiana proved something profoundly and refreshingly old-fashioned: excellence, discipline, teamwork, and FOCUS still work. It’s something I hope all of my teenage patients get their minds firmly around as they do their schoolwork, prepare for exams, and get ready to go out into the world on their own one day.
Focus still matters. Character still compounds. Getting your homework done for school means you are PREPARING for life. Discipline still separates champions from contenders – both on the gridiron and in the classroom. Last night wasn’t just a “title game.” It was a reminder about all the virtues that IU modelled on the field – and off the field – for the last two seasons, ever since a coach stood up and bluntly and proudly said, “I win.” And backed it up.
Indiana didn’t win because they were flashy. They won because they were ready. And that, frankly, is the most satisfying kind of victory there is.
