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Jalen Brunson’s reputation as a winner has followed him through every stage of his career, from high school standout to college champion and now an NBA Finals MVP. Yet, those closest to him, including his family, consistently highlight accomplishments that transcend basketball. This focus is the driving force behind his legacy work with the Second Round Foundation, an organization that recently brought together nearly a thousand supporters for its annual Golf and Charity Classic, aiming to raise more than $1 million for charitable causes.
The event is more than a fundraiser; it is a case study in how leadership and community engagement intersect. Speaking with the people who make this work happen daily, from board members and event operators to the foundation’s executive leadership, a clear theme emerges: the amplified visibility from the Knicks’ historic championship run did not create the foundation’s impact—it magnified what was already operating effectively behind the scenes.
One of the most pressing questions for any leader, whether running a nonprofit or a thriving business, is how to prepare for the moment when your efforts are thrust into the spotlight. The Second Round Foundation’s experience offers a valuable blueprint. The organization did not scramble to build infrastructure when attention increased; the systems, culture, and commitment were already in place, allowing them to scale their efforts seamlessly when the platform grew.
From a psychological standpoint, the principles that guide Brunson as a leader on the court are the same ones that inform his approach to philanthropy. The discipline, focus, and team-first mentality that define his playing style are mirrored in how the foundation operates. It is a holistic approach to success that prioritizes consistent execution over reactive measures.
The foundation’s success offers several takeaways for leaders in any field:
The real challenge for any organization experiencing a surge in visibility is sustaining momentum. For the Second Round Foundation, the path forward involves leveraging the current attention to build a lasting structure that will serve the community for years to come. It is about converting short-term attention into long-term assets.
The gathering of nearly a thousand people is a strong indicator of the foundation’s reach, but the leadership understands that community impact is measured in sustained effort, not just event attendance. By maintaining the same principles that brought them to this point, the Second Round Foundation aims to ensure that its legacy is defined as much by the lives it touches off the court as by the championships won on it.
Sandra and Rick Brunson built something into Jalen that appears remarkably simple on the surface and yet proves extraordinarily difficult for most high performers to internalize: the notion that you are always going to have a challenge, and the only variable that matters is how you deal with it and how you overcome it. Second Round Foundation board member Lindsey J. Christen describes that you can always pivot and be creative on top of what is solid: "When you have your fundamentals in order, you can always pivot and be creative on top of it for whatever comes your way and be agile." This capacity for agility comes from knowing exactly what matters and what remains fixed, and being able to work creatively around that foundation. This includes the foundations of policies, procedures, and solid governance- which is her personal background that she brings to the board.
The foundation itself has applied this principle to its own evolution. Founded in 2022, it has moved through distinct phases of impact while maintaining an unwavering commitment to its fundamental mission, while remaining nimble in the process by which it carries that mission out. Sometimes supporting students does not only mean supporting them in the classroom, as she explained: "A student learns best and can reach their full potential and opportunity when their basic needs are met. When the fundamentals are met, when they are satisfied, when their mental health is calm and in a place where they can receive education and information. When their medical care is consistent."
The research on learning and executive function is clear that when basic needs go unmet, the brain’s threat detection systems activate in ways that inhibit learning, executive function, and the capacity for identity development. Lindsey explains the foundation’s trajectory of expansion while holding the center: "We first focused on life-saving resources for Team Jamaica Bickel with AED devices and making sure student athletes were supported in emergency situations. We supported Covenant House and made sure that families and children had safe shelter. And now we’re evolving, and sort of our outreach and our partnerships are also growing. But we have always stuck to the same fundamentals." The foundation started by funding life-saving equipment for student athletes, expanded into a partnership with Covenant House to ensure that families had shelter, and has now evolved into initiatives ranging from hydroponic farms in 10 New York City public schools to STEM labs to workforce development pathways in drones, EMT certification, and welding. The architecture and core focus of planting community seeds remained constant even as the specific interventions multiplied and deepened.
Chidi Jenkins, a board member who has helped shape this philosophy since the foundation’s earliest days, brings a distinctly educational perspective to the organization’s work. But her commitment to this approach did not begin in a boardroom—it began in adolescence. Reflecting on that period, she explains: "When I was 17, I met the Brunson family. Coaches and mentors are very important at this stage of life as a student-athlete. So the Brunsons came into my life at that time and really became kind of ‘bonus parents,’ is what I call them in a way."
That formative relationship left a lasting impression on how Jenkins views the foundation’s role. Rather than arriving with predetermined answers, she believes in meeting people within their own circumstances—a principle that continues to guide the organization’s daily decisions and long-term strategy.
When Jenkins describes the foundation’s approach to dignified support, she is notably concrete about what it means to remove obstacles for the families and young people they serve. She offers a clear picture of the work in practice: "If that looks like dressing the kids so that they feel good walking into school, that’s right. That’s where we’ll meet them. If that’s providing the sports bras, so that the girls can feel like they can engage in physical activity without issue, that’s what we’ll do. No questions asked."
This willingness to address specific, practical needs—without judgment or bureaucratic friction—reflects a deeper conviction about how support should be offered. The goal is not to deliver a one-size-fits-all service, but to respond to what individuals and families identify as their own priorities.
The foundation’s emphasis on listening stems from an approach to philanthropy rooted in genuine curiosity. Jenkins draws a parallel to a familiar principle in medicine: “if you listen to the patient…they’ll tell you what’s wrong with them.” The same logic, she suggests, applies to community support.
In her own words: "We really don't need to be telling people what they need. That's, I think, one of the biggest mistakes of philanthropy these days."
This perspective challenges a traditional dynamic in which outside organizations assume they know best. Instead, the foundation operates on the recognition that the people it serves understand their own needs more deeply than any external group ever could. The organization’s role, then, is not to direct but to respond—providing support that respects the autonomy and judgment of the individuals it exists to help.
The Second Round Foundation, co-founded by Jalen Brunson and his mother Sandra, has grown significantly in the year following the Knicks’ championship run. What began as a focused initiative has evolved over four years into a comprehensive community support organization with a widening reach.
Albert Hall, the 2026 Magic is in the Work Award recipient, has collaborated with Jalen across multiple projects. His approach to partnership is deliberate, and he articulates his philosophy directly:
"We don't do things with everyone. Right. So when it was Jalen Brunson, we knew that the type of people that the Brunson family are and the type of person both on and off the court, Jalen was...they wanted to do it the right way."
This selective approach to partnership ensures that everyone involved shares not just a commitment to the work, but a deep alignment about how that work should be executed. It is a standard that filters every collaboration the foundation undertakes.
On the culture he has helped build with the foundation, Albert emphasizes what sustains teams across years:
"The way this event has grown in 4 years...it’s because we have an amazing team and everybody, just like Jalen, knows that the magic's in the work."
He elaborates on what this means for the people who execute it:
"Everyone loves doing the work, but more importantly, they just love the smiles, the energy, and the atmosphere that we bring to this event every year."
When he describes the principles that hold the team together, Albert is clear about priorities:
"Integrity, honesty, collaboration, and joy and...the crescendo of the accomplishment."
These principles determine how teams produce sustained output across championship seasons and beyond. Albert speaks about how the foundation has been nicknamed after Sandra:
"We're Sandra's team is what we kind of joke around with."
This reflects that sustainable organizations are built around core values and people who embody them consistently, not around individual heroism. The team identity is anchored in a shared standard, not a single personality.
The numbers that Samantha Macias, marketing and events manager at Hall Pass Media, outlined tell part of the story:
"With the golfers, we hit our maximum capacity at Westchester, so that’s 288 golfers."
For the dinner that followed, the scale of the event expanded considerably:
"We have 845 dinner guests. We had 44 tables last year. We have 70 tables this year."
When Samantha reflects on what made growth possible while maintaining focus on who is being served, the emphasis returns to the people and their commitment:
"Sandra and the board have just been amazing as far as making sure that the bigger picture is also being served and talked about as far as giving back to all of the groups that they do."
The expansion of the event footprint has not diluted the foundation’s purpose. Instead, the increased capacity for golfers and dinner guests translates directly into greater support for the community groups the foundation serves. The growth is not an end in itself, but a means to deepen the impact on the causes that matter most to the Brunson family and the team around them.
When Jalen first approached this work, he articulated a deceptively simple philosophy that underpins the entire mission: all of his goals are fundamentally team-based. This straightforward statement reflects a deep understanding that championship-level performance is never achieved in isolation. The habits of excellence that propelled him to the highest levels of basketball are the very same habits required to build something meaningful within a community.
Monica McNutt, the analyst covering the Knicks and WNBA who has closely followed this foundation’s trajectory, highlighted the unique advantage of the platform they now occupy. She noted that there is no better way to grow an event than to come off a championship season. However, the Brunson family recognized a critical truth that many organizations overlook: growth driven by visibility is only sustainable when the foundational principles remain intact. The championship elevated their platform, but the work itself was already structured to handle that expansion without compromising its core values.
A recurring observation in sports and performance psychiatry concerns what happens to athletes and organizations after they achieve their stated goal. With eight different teams having won the NBA championship in eight consecutive years, a compelling question emerges: what separates the teams that sustain excellence from those that collapse once the immediate objective has been realized?
Monica McNutt frames this challenge with characteristic insight, suggesting a documentary on the “year after” would be fascinating. She points to the statistical reality of eight different champions in eight years and wonders what it would take to buck that trend for the first time since the Warriors accomplished it. Her central question probes whether this particular group possesses the personality and fortitude to become trend breakers.
McNutt’s inquiry cuts to the psychological heart of the matter: does winning whet the appetite for more, or does it quell the desire to remain at the top once that pinnacle has been tasted? In the case of the Brunson family and their foundation, the answer appears to be neither. The appetite was never solely about winning on the court. In psychiatric and psychological terms, this reflects a mastery of intrinsic motivation and resistance to hedonic adaptation. The Brunsons and the Second Round Foundation deliberately separated the work from the accolade. The championship was never the foundation’s goal, and it never will be. This distinction is not merely semantic; it is structural, ensuring that the mission remains driven by purpose rather than external validation.
What the championship truly accomplished was amplifying a mission that had long needed a louder voice: creating access and equity for young people who are often overlooked, second-guessed, or treated as second-round picks in life despite their undeniable potential. Nija Ali Williams, the foundation’s CEO, captured this shift precisely.
“Our visibility has grown exponentially,” Williams said. “The visibility has brought more people to us, more interest in the causes that we want to support, and more interest in the gaps that we want to bridge. And so as a result of that, this year, we’re able to lean into some food justice and food insecurity.”
In other words, the championship was never the origin story. It became the megaphone for a story that was already being told with purpose and persistence.
With that expanded visibility, the foundation’s leadership has been able to accelerate initiatives that were already part of its long-term vision. Under Williams’ direction, the organization has broadened its hydroponic farming initiatives across multiple schools, made possible through a partnership with the Ferrari Foundation. These efforts bring fresh food education and sustainable agriculture directly into educational settings where students might otherwise never encounter them.
The foundation has also established STEM laboratories in schools that lack the technological infrastructure to offer hands-on science and engineering experiences. For students in underserved communities, these labs represent more than equipment; they represent a doorway into fields where they have historically been underrepresented.
Beyond traditional academics, the foundation has developed workforce pathways in skills-based trades for young people for whom college is not the right fit. Williams articulates why this expansion matters: “College is not for everyone. So looking at workforce development initiatives has now been something we’ve been able to focus on.”
These are not new programs born from the championship. They are initiatives that the championship made possible to scale, giving the foundation the resources, attention, and momentum to reach more young people than ever before.
Williams frames the foundation’s purpose as extending far beyond any single achievement on the court. “Jalen has done all that he’s done to this point, but this is really the legacy that he’s leaving behind,” she explained. “When all of that dies down, he’s looking at, what does his legacy look like? And so planting seeds for the underserved and overlooked is really the core of the work that we do.”
This distinction between achievement and legacy shapes how the foundation operates every day. Achievements are moments; legacies are movements. By investing in food security, STEM education, and workforce readiness, the foundation is planting seeds designed to grow long after the spotlight fades, ensuring that the visibility gained today translates into tangible opportunities for generations to come.
In just four years, the Second Round Foundation has achieved significant growth. However, the organization’s most meaningful progress isn’t measured in fundraising totals or event attendance. The real success lies in the quality of the team executing the mission, the expansion from a single event into a multi-community footprint, and a more profound understanding of what recipients actually need—rather than what the organization initially assumed they needed.
Bringing the concept of winning from the court to the community requires translating the discipline that shaped Jalen’s development as an elite athlete into the foundational work of team building, strategic decision-making, and adherence to core fundamentals, even as resources expand. The mental toughness demanded by playoff performances is the same resilience required to consistently support communities year after year—through winning seasons, losing seasons, and periods of uncertainty.
When speaking with the people who run the Second Round Foundation, the conversation consistently returns to the work itself. They emphasize meeting young people where they are, providing the resources those individuals genuinely need, and building something collectively as a team. Their commitment remains steadfast whether the spotlight is on the organization or not. That is what winning looks like beyond the court.
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