Nearly nine months before that final game, before fans filled arenas and cameras tracked every possession, the Cougars were grinding in the shadows. In the predawn darkness of a humid June morning last summer, the basketball team gathered on the campus baseball field. The clock read 6:30 a.m., but for Kelvin Sampson’s team, it was already game time for creating a championship season.

Those punishing summer workouts — 100-yard sprints under the relentless Texas sun — weren’t just about physical conditioning. They were laying the kind of foundation necessary to make it through to March and into April.

Sampson doesn’t just preach toughness. He builds it — through repetition, through routine and through unshakeable standards.

“This is very much a player-led team. They’re responsible for our success, and as a coach, that’s the way I prefer it,” Sampson says. “I think the reason why we have been so good over the years is we’ve developed a great culture that our seniors adopt and make sure that our young kids and new kids buy into.”

The team leans on one another because it must. “We go through a lot of hard things together — the conditioning is not easy, all the stuff we do, nothing is easy — so we have to lean on each other to get through it,” says L.J. Cryer, Houston’s graduate guard and leading scorer. “I feel like that’s where the camaraderie comes from.” In Sampson’s program, punctuality isn’t optional, and accountability isn’t a buzzword. “I know how hard our kids work,” Sampson says. “We start in June. That’s part of our culture. You be on time, and you’re held accountable for everything you do.”

This culture didn’t materialize overnight. When Sampson took the reins in 2014, he inherited a program adrift — waning fan interest, outdated facilities and years of irrelevance. “I was so grateful he accepted the job, because we really didn’t have anything to offer to him,” says UH President Renu Khator. “I wouldn’t even say we were on the first floor; we were in the basement [of college basketball]. We had to really get out of there to get on the launchpad, but dreams have power.”

Sampson wasn’t looking for flash. He was chasing belief. “Coaches can win games,” he told Khator during his interview. “But the administration wins championships.” “What that meant was that he would be a fantastic coach, but if he doesn’t have the tools, it’s not possible to bring magic back here,” Khator says."

Determined to resurrect Cougar basketball, he went to work — not just with his team, but with the campus. In 2014, armed with a bullhorn and his trademark relentlessness, he walked alongside players around campus, personally inviting students to games.

“Our first [game] is tomorrow night,” he announced, fist-bumping students and igniting a spark that would eventually engulf the campus in basketball fervor. Now? The facilities are among the best in the nation, and the games are sold out. The Fertitta Center, which opened in 2018, is a wall of noise. The student section doesn’t just show up; it takes over. Houston has become one of the loudest, most hostile arenas in college basketball.

“This is Houston, and a lot of things are possible here,” Khator says.

Sampson’s system is built on preparation and defense. Core principles are drilled and drilled again until they become second nature, ensuring that come game time, the Cougars are a defensive juggernaut. “That’s what we do. We’re a great defensive team, and that’s how we like to set the tone of the game: on the defensive end,” Sharp says.

But Houston’s path to San Antonio wasn’t all defense. The Cougars were also one of the best three-point shooting teams in the country. When opponents pressured them, Houston didn’t blink.

“Be fearless,” Sampson told his team during a late-game timeout out against Tennessee in the Elite Eight. “Don’t be afraid to take a big shot — and don’t be afraid to miss it either. What’s the worst that can happen? You miss it.”

During the 2025 NCAA Tournament, Houston’s defense held opponents to an average of 58.7 points per game. The Elite Eight against Tennessee? Just 50 points allowed in a 69-50 throttling that sent UH back to the Final Four for the seventh time in school history. They then held a Duke team that averaged 83 points per game during the season to 67 points in the Final Four showdown.

There’s no plug and play in Houston’s system. It takes a certain type of player to make the leap. It takes buy-in. Milos Uzan knew that. The Oklahoma transfer had the impossible task of following All-American Jamal Shead, and he never flinched. The team’s inclusive culture eased this transition.

“This is tough coaching right here,” Uzan says. “I’ve never really had a coach like Coach Sampson, honestly — somebody who’s going to always push you to be your best — and that’s exactly why I came here.”

Cryer saw it from day one. “When you’re able to come in and be yourself, that brings out the best in you,” he says. “We’re not out here putting pressure on [Uzan] to live up to Jamal’s expectations. We want him to go out there and be the best Milos he can be.”

This emphasis on individual growth within the team framework is a testament to the program’s developmental focus. Players aren’t just molded into specific roles; they’re nurtured to become the best versions of themselves, contributing uniquely to the team’s success.

“We went through some struggles this season, and a lot of people doubted us,” Sharp says. “We went back into the gym, cracked down on the things we need to do better … and we fixed them.”

“We don’t have to be mentioned in the greats or this and that,” Roberts says. “We’ll take the underdog spot, and we’ll just do what we do.”