One morning, the team logged into their Daily Standup — only to find the CEO already there, arms crossed, camera on, and ready to “just listen.”

Why it was weird:

• The team suddenly went from open and chatty to robotic and tense.
• Everyone started reporting to him, not to each other.
• One dev actually stood up straighter — like, physically.

What the coach did:

After the call, a quick 1-on-1 was set up with the CEO:
“Appreciate your curiosity — but these meetings are for the team to sync, not perform. Want real insight? Let’s set up feedback sessions instead.”

To the CEO’s credit, he understood and backed off. The team relaxed.
The next Daily? Back to normal — jokes and all.

During Sprint Planning, the Product Owner looked at the board and said:
“These are all very important User Stories. So, they should all be the Sprint Goal.”

Why it was weird:

• A Sprint Goal is one clear focus — not a shopping list.
• The team was staring at a mountain of work that couldn’t fit in one Sprint.
• Developers were quietly negotiating which items to “accidentally” skip.

What the coach did:

The team was pulled aside for a reality check:

“What if, instead of everything, we focus on what delivers the most value first?”

The PO agreed to narrow the scope. Together, they defined the real MVP — and avoided chaos.

A scheduled Retro turned emotional. Instead of focusing on teamwork or process, team members opened up about burnout, family stress, and personal struggles.

Why it was weird:

• Retros are meant to focus on how the team works — not life’s curveballs.
• The line between professional and personal was completely blurred.
• But the emotional weight in the room was undeniable.

What the coach did:

The Retro was paused:
“Hey team, we need to talk about how we’re working — but clearly, there’s more going on. Let’s create a space to talk about that, too.”

A well-being check-in was introduced outside regular ceremonies. It gave the team the room to share — and helped them refocus when needed.

Middle of a Sprint, two developers were locked in a heated argument over the smallest feature detail. Think: sibling rivalry, but in code.

Why it was weird:

• Agile thrives on collaboration — not conflict.
• This wasn’t a technical debate. It was ego-driven.
• Progress stalled as tension rose.

What the coach did:

Stepping in, the coach asked:
“What’s the most important goal here — winning the argument, or delivering value to the customer?”

After a short pause, both devs agreed to move forward as a team.

A team came in for coaching and said proudly:
“We’re Agile, so we don’t write docs!”

Why it was weird:

• Agile values working software over comprehensive docs — not without them.
• Critical decisions were undocumented.
• Even developers were unsure about requirements.

What the coach did:

A conversation reframed the mindset:
“Agile isn’t anti-documentation. It’s pro-valuable documentation. Let’s document what helps us deliver.”

The team introduced lightweight, practical documentation — and suddenly, clarity returned.