Before basketball became such a big part of their lives, these women already had dreams, careers and identities of their own.
Some were athletes. Some worked in journalism, business and medicine. Some were learning who they were long before coaching ever entered the picture.
Though their stories are different, these women do share a connection: each spent part of their journey at BYU, whether their families remain in Provo or have since moved on to programs across the country. In a profession built on constant movement and uncertainty, BYU became a meaningful stop in all of their stories.
“We loved everything about being at BYU,” Lee Anne Pope said. “We loved every second that we were there, we loved the people and the relationships.”
For Sarah Cummard, BYU has become a place where her family feels at home.
“We love it here and feel extremely lucky to be surrounded by people that will lift us up and challenge us to be our best selves,” she said.
But long before BYU became part of their stories, each woman already had a life of her own.
For Pope, life once looked completely different.
“I interned at Reader’s Digest, and I did journalism,” Pope said. “I loved everything, but journalism, I felt like, was the base of everything.”
After graduating from BYU, she stepped into the media world, working at ESPN before eventually moving to New York to work for David Letterman.
“I worked for Dave for almost four years,” she said. “It was such an amazing job to have.”
It was a clear path, and one that could have continued. Pope said she had opportunities to keep building that part of her life, including a chance to continue working for Letterman and another television opportunity in Milwaukee.
But when her life shifted toward basketball alongside her husband, Mark Pope, now the head coach at Kentucky after leading BYU’s program, she said it was never something she felt forced into.
“We chose this together,” Pope said. “Nothing’s being done to me. I chose this eyes wide open.”
Because of that, she has never felt like she lost herself in her husband’s career.
“I’ve never had a problem forgetting or remembering who I am,” Pope said. “I know exactly who I am. I know who I married. I know who we are. I know what we’re trying to do.”
She said that she and Mark entered the profession as true partners, each bringing different strengths to the life they were building.
“There are things that Mark does to make it work for our family. There are things that I do,” Pope said. “He could not do it without me. I could not do it without him. But we’re real partners in this.”
Again and again, the women returned to the same idea: this life only works when both people choose it together.
For Meagan Robinson, whose husband Nick Robinson coached at BYU and now works as the director of operations at Kentucky, that partnership has meant embracing constant change. Before moving to the United States, Robinson had built a life of her own in England, creating community and finding her main purpose outside of basketball.
“First and foremost, I am a daughter of God with divine attributes,” Robinson said.
Since entering coaching life, she has spent years rebuilding routines, friendships and stability with every move, rarely living somewhere longer than five years.
“I’ve hardly ever lived near family, and it can be hard to have to start over and re-establish who you are every few years,” Robinson said.
Because of that, she said she tries not to let basketball be the only thing that defines her.
“This probably sounds funny, but I intentionally avoid letting people know what my husband does specifically,” Robinson said. “I prefer for people to get to know who I am first, before allowing what some people view as a kind of exciting job, to take center stage.”
Even though it’s difficult, she still views the life they have built as something chosen together.
“Some families will choose to split up and live in different places, but we’ve always chosen to make the change,” Robinson said. “Nick as the primary financial provider deserves to be with his family daily.”
Over time, she said learning to view change differently has helped her embrace it instead of fear it.
“Moving is like being reborn,” Robinson said. “You get to start over. Be a little braver, be more confident, try new things, be kinder.”
For Sarah Cummard, whose husband, Lee Cummard, now leads BYU women’s basketball, stability has come through small routines and consistency at home. Before becoming a coach’s wife, she experienced the lifestyle first as a player’s wife while her husband played at BYU and professionally overseas.
“With a partner who has a really demanding career, you carry a lot to make sure your kids are getting their physical, social, emotional needs met,” Cummard said.
Still, she said her family has found ways to create consistency no matter where basketball takes them.
“We really leaned into small daily rituals and habits to create stability,” she said. “Regardless of where we moved, we had a morning and night routine that looked the same.”
From the outside, coaching life can look exciting, even glamorous. There are packed arenas, team travel, public recognition and moments people dream about being part of. But what people often do not see are the sacrifices surrounding those moments.
They do not see the emotional weight of tying their family’s life to such an unpredictable profession or the reality of constantly adapting to schedules, moves and long stretches apart.
For Sarah Fennell, those sacrifices have stretched far beyond basketball itself.
Fennell grew up playing the sport, earned a full scholarship to the University of Dayton and later built a successful career in medical device sales. Because of her own background in athletics, she already understood the demands that would come with coaching life when her husband, Kahil Fennell, entered the profession.
He is now the head coach at Western Michigan after stops at Texas Permian Basin, Portland State, Louisville, BYU and Texas Rio Grande Valley.
“This is a journey we both wanted,” Fennell said. “Being a former athlete, I knew what this career entailed and I agreed to it.”
That understanding shaped the way they approached the profession together.
“Our partnership is strong because we got into this together,” she said. “We had a plan and we have stuck to our goals each step of the way. I am his No. 1 fan and biggest supporter.”
At the same time, she understands how much responsibility often falls on coaching wives behind the scenes.
“He is the best husband and of course I think he's the best coach. I compliment him by wearing all the other hats that are needed. ... I wear wife, mom, my own career, bill payer, plumber, landscaper, accountant, financial advisor, mortgage broker, real estate agent, house cleaner, laundry folder, taxi driver, dog walker, appointment- reminderer and chef ... But I wouldn't have it any other way," Fennell said.
For many coaching wives, supporting the career also means quietly managing nearly every moving part of family life.
For Lesa Burgess, whose husband, Chris Burgess, is an assistant coach at BYU, learning how to balance that role took time.
Before becoming part of the coaching world, she was a college soccer player and later spent years traveling internationally while her husband played professionally overseas.
During those years their family lived in places including Australia, the Philippines, Puerto Rico, South Korea, Turkey, Poland, the United Arab Emirates and Ukraine before eventually returning to the United States.
“I struggled with my identity after I stopped playing soccer and became a wife, and especially a mother,” Burgess said. “I was in the background, playing the support role and struggled to remember who I was outside of those roles.”
Over time, though, her perspective changed.
“I began to realize how crucial my supportive role was to Chris’ success, and consequently, our family’s success,” she said. “Supporting my husband is a huge part of my identity and I’m proud of that.”
She also said many people do not realize how deeply coaching families experience the highs and lows of a season.
“What they see as simply a game, we see and feel as our livelihood,” Burgess said. “When one of the players gets hurt, we hurt with them.”
Kim Austin, whose husband Nate Austin now serves as BYU basketball’s director of operations, said the public perception of coaching life rarely matches reality.
“I think when most people hear coach’s wife, they assume we’ve got the dream life making tons of money, going to games, and that my husband gets summers and a lot of time off,” Austin said.
Behind the scenes, she said the reality is often exhausting and isolating.
“We truly operate as single moms for most of the year, including most holidays,” Austin said.
“There’s an unspoken pressure as a coach’s wife because you don’t want to complain or make them feel bad for doing their job,” she said. “It can often be isolating and difficult when you see other families taking vacations or even being together at their kids’ events, living that traditional family lifestyle.”
Still, Austin said one conversation early in her husband’s coaching career completely changed the way she viewed the profession. During a job interview, the head coach invited both Nate and Kim Austin to come together.
“They mentioned that this wasn’t just Nate’s job he was interviewing for, it was ours,” Austin said. “We talked about how the most successful coaches make the job a family affair and how everyone needs to be all in in order to make it work and be successful.”
Though the profession brings opportunities many families never experience — traveling with teams, seeing different parts of the country and building close relationships with players — Austin said those moments would not be possible without the sacrifices coaching families make behind the scenes.
“It's Nate’s job in the sense that he goes to work and has his specific coaching responsibilities that we can’t as his wife and kids,” Austin said. “But we also put in a ton of time and effort to make every season a success.”
Even with those sacrifices, Austin said focusing on the positive parts of coaching life has made the lifestyle feel worth it.
“Choosing to focus on those positive things versus the hard has made such a big difference,” Austin said.
Despite their different personalities and experiences, each woman returned to the same idea over and over again: stability does not come from where they live or what program they are part of. It comes from the people beside them.
For Robinson, that stability comes through faith.
“The stability for me and my family is centered on the gospel of Jesus Christ,” she said.
For Burgess, it comes through family itself.
“Houses, cities, friends, clothes and church groups can all change, but our family remains constant,” she said.
Austin said stability for her family has also come through maintaining her own career while navigating the uncertainty of the profession.
“That stability to lean back on has made the biggest difference as we’ve navigated the industry and evaluated different positions to take,” she said.
That tension between instability and consistency exists throughout nearly every part of coaching life.
Robinson admitted, “You can lose who you are,” especially in a profession where families move often and families are constantly rebuilding routines and community. But what stood out most in these conversations was not what these women felt they had lost. It was what they had built.
None of them described themselves as hidden in the background of their husbands’ careers. Instead, they described partnership.
“We chose this together,” Pope said. “We do this together.”
While their husbands may coach the games, these women carry much of what allows that world to function — raising families through constant transition, creating consistency where there often is none and absorbing the emotional highs and lows that come with the profession.
“It’s such a special profession,” Pope said. “Mark and I have loved doing it together and we’ve learned and grown so much.”
Pope said one piece of advice from another coach’s wife has stayed with her for years.
“You can fight this profession, the schedule, the demands of it and it can be hell,” Pope said. “Or you can embrace it and it can be a hell of a ride.”