This University Hadn't Won a Title in 57 Years. Their New Boss Gave Staff a Brutal Ultimatum.

KALAMAZOO, Mich. – For an athletic department starved of the ultimate prize for nearly 60 years, it was the kind of speech that could change everything or be dismissed as empty bravado. In a pivotal all-staff meeting in February 2022, Western Michigan’s newly hired athletic director, Dan Bartholomae, stepped up to the podium. He had spent weeks quietly observing, learning the rhythms and the history of the university. Now, it was time to speak. And what he said would become the defining moment of a new era.

Bartholomae didn't ease into his vision; he launched a full-scale assault on mediocrity. He looked out at the assembled coaches and administrators and delivered a message that was as much a promise as it was a threat.

"We are going to win conference championships, we're going to put ourselves in a position to win national championships," he stated, his tone leaving no room for debate.

But the bombshell was yet to come. He turned his vision into a personal challenge for every single person in the room, effectively asking them to choose their future.

"We all have to believe we can do it, and we ought to agree that that's important," Bartholomae explained. "If you agree and you're willing to do the work, you belong in this room. If not, like, that's cool, you don't have to stick around."

The ultimatum hung in the air: believe in a championship future, or find the exit. It wasn't just a mission statement; it was a filter designed to weed out anyone not fully committed to the monumental task ahead.

To truly grasp the audacity of his declaration, you have to understand the history haunting the halls of WMU athletics. The university’s last Division I national championship trophies were hoisted in 1964 and 1965 by the men's cross country team. For 57 years, an entire generation of athletes, coaches, and fans had come and gone without experiencing that ultimate victory. This wasn't just a slump; it was a deeply ingrained institutional identity that Bartholomae was determined to shatter. He was taking on decades of "almosts" and "not quites" with a single, powerful speech.

This was far more than the typical rah-rah talk of a new boss. It was a foundational cultural reset. Bartholomae understood that to build a winning program, the belief had to come first. You couldn't hope for a championship; you had to expect it. You couldn't wish for it; you had to work for it with an unwavering conviction that it was possible. By forcing his staff to confront this choice, he was planting the seeds of a new, fiercely competitive identity. The message was heard loud and clear across campus, and for one particular team on the ice, it was the starting pistol they had been waiting for.