Princeton University Athletics
Feature Story: The Past, The Present And Bill Tierney
May 24, 2026 | Men's Lacrosse
This is a story about Bill Tierney and Princeton men’s lacrosse, and that’s a subject on which you can write thousands and thousands and thousands of words. He certainly is doing just that.
“I’m writing my book,” Tierney says. “I’m up to 390 pages.”
For a man whose public facing persona has always been to command a lacrosse sideline, with all of its noise and action and tension and intensity, it can be difficult to imagine Bill Tierney behind a keyboard, typing away to tell his own story. There are no players to direct, no adjustments to game plans to be had, no winner and no loser. It’s a solitary process. Done right, it’s a demanding process.
For a novice writer like Tierney, at least there is no shortage of material. Tierney went from someone who never played lacrosse until he got to Cortland State to winning seven NCAA championships as a head coach — six at Princeton and then another one at Denver. Along the way it’s also a story of family, loyalty, celebrations, adversity, laughter, tragedy. The number of people Tierney has impacted goes way beyond what can be contained in the pages of one book.
The final version will have, oh, who knows how many stories. It might even include the one that is currently unfolding in Charlottesville, Va., this weekend. This one is really, really hard to tell, even for a veteran writer who has already written his own thousands and thousands of words about the Hall of Fame coach. Or maybe it’s really easy. Maybe it’s really just a two-word story:
The Jacket.
Tierney is sitting in the ballroom of the same Charlottesville hotel where the current Princeton team has been staying during this Championship Weekend, one that ends Monday when the Tigers play Notre Dame in the final. Princeton has taken over this room, which has served as a place for meals, meeting and just hanging out.
Tierney will be 75 in a few months, and he doesn’t have the same energy that he did all those years ago. His mind is still where it’s always been. He remembers the details, or maybe he’s just been chronicling them for the book. Either way, very little has vanished from his memory.
He talks a bit about the old days. The subject of his current gig as the head coach of the PLL’s Philadelphia Waterdogs comes up. As always, he talks a lot about his wife, Helen. Without Helen, Bill Tierney wouldn’t be Bill Tierney; Princeton Lacrosse history wouldn’t be Princeton Lacrosse history.
“She makes me eat four vegetables a day,” he says, laughing.
Perhaps in there would be the secret to happiness? Whatever it is, Bill and Helen Tierney long ago figured it out.
Of course the subject of what he is doing here in Charlottesville is a big part of the conversation. It’s been 25 years since Princeton’s most recent national title, and as is NCAA tradition, that team will be honored for its silver anniversary at halftime of this year’s championship game. It seems so fitting: The Princeton Tigers of 25 years ago, on the same field where the 2026 Tigers will be trying to match their accomplishment. And yet that easy symmetry glosses over the reality, that in fact 25 years, a full quarter of a century, have come and gone.
A few minutes before, on his walk from the hotel restaurant to the ballroom that Princeton has set up shop in the last few days, Tierney walks past current Princeton junior captain Colin Burns.
“It was like meeting a celebrity,” Burns says afterwards. “We know he’s a legend. Six nattys in 10 years. That’s legendary.”
In the moment, they stop, shake hands and pose for a picture. Past is meeting present. The constant is Princeton Men’s Lacrosse. And that’s where the jacket comes in.
It’s been 17 years since Tierney coached at Princeton. The current players were toddlers then. Like Burns, they know who Tierney is, by reputation and by the few times he has spoken to the Tigers through the last several years. They don’t really know him, or much about who he is. Maybe they’ll all read the book one day.
The day before Tierney meets Burns, he was in a suite at UVa’s Scott Stadium, watching Princeton defeat Duke 14-7 and Notre Dame defeat Syracuse 15-7 to set up Monday’s final. It was a rainy Saturday in Charlottesville, and Tierney, like most of the more than 28,000 there, was wearing a rain jacket.
In his case, it was a simple black rain jacket. It was clearly an old one. What gave that away? The lettering on it: “Princeton Lacrosse.” Past has once again met present. There is no way to ever separate Tierney and Princeton. The jacket is 100 percent proof of that.
The Tierneys still live in Denver. It’s not like he woke up that morning and chose that jacket. He could have picked any number out of his closet.
“I still have one that says ‘Levittown Memorial’ from 1980,” he says, referring to the Long Island high school that was his first coaching stop.
“I knew it was supposed to rain,” he says. Yeah, no. Not buying that. This went deeper. He could have gotten any number of current Princeton Lacrosse jackets. This one was from way back when, an old boathouse jacket that could probably write its own book.
“Helen has always and will always have a strong affinity for Princeton,” he says. “When I pulled that jacket out, it clearly meant a lot to her. We’ve saved all that stuff. That jacket has been around. I’m actually an honorary member of a few Princeton classes. I could have brought one of those. Maybe the 1952 one. It has a two inch orange stripe and then a two inch black stripe and then another two inch orange stripe and so on. Couldn’t fit that one in my bag.”
The weekend has been one big Princeton party, with classes represented from the 1960s through the players who graduated a year ago. Nearly every player on the 2001 team is here too. Tierney can’t walk three minutes around Scott Stadium without seeing a former player.
Meanwhile, back in the ballroom, the players begin to come in from the door to the outside that is behind Tierney. They can see someone there as they file through but won’t be able to see his face unless they turn back around once they’ve passed him. Some do. Most don’t. Hunter Spiess, the defenseman, does.
“Hey Coach,” he says.
The current head coach is Matt Madalon. The very first thing he did when he got the job a decade ago was to call Tierney. Present met the past.
“I was really a big fan early on,” Tierney says. “I’ve been to a few practices there through the years. Matt has always gone out of his way to welcome me, let me talk to the guys. It’s the opposite of what you might think. I was worried that I might seem like I was an intruder, but Matt has always made me feel so at home. I’m always blown away by the respect everyone in the program shows me. Like him [Spiess]. He said ‘hey Coach.’ That means a lot to me.”
So does the history of the sport and the history of the Princeton program, which is something that he shares with Madalon.
“I’m so impressed with how much he respects the history, and not because I’m a part of it.”
Tierney is actually the biggest part of it. He took over Princeton’s team in 1988 and went 2-13 his first year and then 6-8 his second. By Year 3 he was in the NCAA tournament for the first time in program history. Year 5, in 1992, saw the first of those NCAA championships.
The sixth was the most emotional for him, won with his sons Trevor in goal and Brendan on attack. When B.J. Prager’s overtime goal ended it, Tierney dropped to the ground, head in hands, overcome by the moment. Go back to the second championship, an OT win over Virginia in 1994. On that day, Tierney was holding a cup of water in one hand when Kevin Lowe scored the winner and he never spilled a drop.
“I was in a box with Brendan’s class, the ’02 guys, during the Princeton-Duke game,” he says. “Every play. Every goal. Every save. I was so into it. Not that I ever doubted it, but it reignited the ... “
He trails off at this point, deep in thought. Now he’s the author, looking for the right words.
“... every coach from every school says they were in a special place. My whole experience at Princeton. My family’s whole experience at Princeton. And now watching it all evolve again. They’ve done such a great job.”
He can watch from the box now. He’s certainly earned that right. His hair is gray. There’s no chance he can bring the fury to the sideline that defined him a quarter of a century ago and beyond that. His current coaching situation is a much different one, a professional one, with minimal actual on-field preparation. And off the field?
“They asked me what kind of music I like,” he says of the Waterdogs. “I said ‘you have any Credence?’ They had no idea what that meant. At Denver, we did this relay run up and down Red Rocks. The losing team always had to sing a song in front of the rest of the team. One year, they asked me ‘what should we sing’ and I said ‘how about Hey Jude?’ They had no idea what that was either.”
Those are his two most recent stops. Since leaving Princeton he’s become a grandfather four times over. He’s won another NCAA title, making him the only coach to win at multiple schools. He’s built a life in Denver, more than 2,000 miles away from the school he put back on the lacrosse map.
“I’ve never felt disconnected from Princeton,” he says. “It was so special. The place. The people. The experience. The program. I can’t tell you how happy Helen was to put on that orange and black to come here.”
Yeah. So was he. It was more than just a rain jacket. It was, again, past meeting present. Bill Tierney. And Princeton back in the NCAA final.
— by Jerry Price
