Jack’s Blog

Many people in this country have made it their cause (hobby?) to take literal translations of the law and/or Constitution and see how far they can push them.  For seven years, I was employed at a workplace that was as petty, dysfunctional and contained more antagonists on “both sides of the aisle” than any other in the nation - the athletics department at Fresno State.

You may know FSU as the school that’s lost more cases (or at least, money) regarding lack of compliance for Title IX than any other school.  I was on the “executive council” of the athletics director.  At one meeting, we were told by the AD he arranged to bring in the foremost authority on Title IX in the country, a gentleman named Lamar Wright. 

The atmosphere in and around the office was electric as the day of his arrival approached.  Finally, the big day arrived and Lamar visited the campus.  For two days, he perused “the books” and on the third day, he addressed our group.  He pointed out a couple of, as he referred to them, minor items where the university could have done a better job. 

Then, he paused and said (I’m not sure this is verbatim - so please don’t sue me - but the gist of the quote is dead on with his analysis), “I’ve been all over the country doing studies such as these and I’ve never seen anything quite like what goes on here.  You people count beans!“  In all, Fresno State didn’t lose as much as it got out-lawyered (of course, isn’t that how most cases are won and lost - especially, it seems, in California)? 

What’s going on with the planned building of the mosque at the site of Ground Zero brings back all too familiar memories.  Is it really about the right to worship?  Or is there another agenda - in this country which has now embraced as its goal the exact opposite of that of any successful organization, group, team - or country: “What’s right is more important than who’s right?”

There’s no denying the people who are insistent the mosque be built are playing the “It’s our right” card.  When asked if the place of worship has to be built right there - on a parcel of land that offends so many people, people who lost loved ones in the 9/11 attack - the supporters deflect the criticism of the location.  “It’s not about where it’s built but that, if denied here, then who’s to say mosques elsewhere will face opposition?”  Oh please!  It’s all about winning and showing superiority - just like what transpired at Fresno State.  Only on a topic that’s of infinitely greater importance and meaning to everyone.

My first year of teaching in the Clovis Unified School District, the administration brought in a terrific speaker, Dr. Bertice Berry, for the General Session to kick off the school year. Dr. Berry made several statements and observations that day.  The one that had the greatest impact on me was:

“There’s a big difference between what you HAVE a right to do and what IS right to do.”

Before readers start wondering whether I understand the magnitude of Wade’s remarks, let’s take a look at Wade - from several different perspectives. 

First of all, would what he said have caused such a stir if it had come from a random rabid Miami Heat fan (of which many have sprung up recently)?  A fan who, upon being asked by a member of the media if he thought the Heat were going to go undefeated, said, “If we (as any fan refers to his team) lose two or three in a row, you all (meaning the media, as Wade did) are going to make it like the World Trade Center is coming down again.”  Would that statement have caused as much of an incident as when Wade uttered it? 

Examine the speaker in this case.  As cool and stylish as any of today’s athletes, Dwyane Wade was born to a couple who did more than dabble in the drug culture, especially his mom, who spent time in prison.  Google Dwyane Wade’s name and you’ll read about how he was sent to live with his dad and his new wife (who also began having marital problems).  While Dwyane, Sr. played ball with his son (hour after hour) and taught him how to deal with adversity on the court, the son apparently didn’t receive the same guidance in the academic world.

He was a Proposition 48 casualty, meaning he wasn’t eligible to play his freshman year in college.  The story is similar to many such scholastic stars - OK grades, but missed the necessary standardized score (in Wade’s case, the ACT) by one point.  Whether that was the case or not, missing academic eligibility isn’t like narrowly missing the Dean’s List.  With his academic and social background, it’s amazing Dwyane Wade grew into the type of young man he is.  But let’s not make him someone we should turn to for social commentary. 

Wade fell in love early in life and married his high school sweetheart - after she gave birth to their first child.  They stayed together for quite a while, but I remember coaching friends making comments that, with the temptations professional athletes were presented, especially the high profile, rich, good-looking ones, it was only a matter of time before the Wade romance hit the skids.  As has been reported, i.e. publicly dragged through the mud, a nasty divorce and child custody battle is now taking place.

Then there’s the story of how D-Wade walked into a tattoo shop, as seemingly all the great ones do, turned around and left because he knew his father would disapprove.  That’s a rather major statement in this day and age.  Parents guide in different ways.  I recall a professor I had in a child psych class in college lecture us one day that there were three theories on how to raise children.  “Unfortunately, none of them work,” he ended the lesson.

Granted, Dwyane Wade makes big money.  10% of that (before tax) is donated to his church.  It’s easy to say, “If I had that much money, I’d be giving it away too,” but exactly how much are of your own money is designated to charity?  Regardless of your views on Wade, Sports Illustrated saw it fit to name him their Sportsman of the Year for 2006, an award they don’t give away lightly. 

So who is Dwyane Wade?  In this instance, it’s a case of walking a mile in another man’s moccasins.  Shouldn’t he have realized that that comment would set off a frenzy of disbelief that someone could be so insensitive?  Sure - if he had your social awareness, intelligence, upbringing and, yeah, common sense.  Just like you wouldn’t be such a klutz when you play your weekend hoops game at your local gym if you had his basketball skill.

Dwyane Wade’s talent in basketball has given him fame, fortune and some powerful friends (not just LeBron and Bosh).  Yet, as difficult as it may be to understand, it doesn’t mean he fully comprehends the magnitude of an event that took place when he was nineteen.  That’s not an excuse, just what I believe happens when people with a platform are ill-equipped to discuss certain issues.

This reminds me a little - and just a little - of what brought down Jimmy “The Greek” Snyder.  In 1988 I was associate head basketball coach at the University of Toledo when Jimmy made his infamous remarks that got him fired from CBS and happened to be a guest on a Toledo radio station .  When asked for how I summed up the story, I said:

“The guy was a bookmaker and now people are making him out to be a geneticist.”

The NFL didn’t need another controversy but that’s exactly what it got when Miami Dolphins’ General manager Jeff Ireland conducted what was thought to be a personnel interview with wideout Dez Bryant.

Granted, Bryant’s had a checkered past and due diligence needed to be done, especially if the club’s going to shell out major cash.  Possibly because Ireland wanted to find out the root cause of Bryant’s behavioral issues, possibly because he was trying to elicit a reaction from the receiver to a highly personal question, or possibly because he’s simply an insensitive pig, he decided to ask Bryant if his mother was a prostitute.

A little background: Bryant’s mother was 15 when she had him.  His father was in his 40s at the time of his birth.  Bryant’s mother, who had three kids by the time she was 18, was a cocaine, marijuana and PCP user, as well as someone who served a year-and-a-half for distributing crack.  And Bryant himself has never been accused of being a choir boy.

But, hey, if you don’t want to sign the guy, don’t sign him.  No matter what his upbringing or past has been, she’s still his mother - and anyone with an ounce of common sense or an iota of sensitivity would understand that’s an inappropriate question!  Besides, would it have mattered what his answer was?  What, exactly, was Ireland, or the Dolphins’ brass expecting, or better yet, hoping to discover?  Whether he would lash out or if he’d show extreme poise in responding in a calm, yet firm tone.

When Bill Parcells interviewed with the Dolphins, did they ask him, “When you were a young boy, was your mother an obese blimp?”  Same type of probing, reaction-seeking and completely senseless query. 

Provocative or introspective questions aimed to gauge a potential employee’s reaction - as long as they are tasteful - are fair game and serve a purpose.  What Ireland asked (or was directed to ask) was totally out of line and deserves more than just an apology.  “Genius” is a word that’s long been used in football.  As the old saying goes:

“The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits.”�

As mentioned several times in this space, I worked for seven years as an assistant men’s basketball coach at the University of Tennessee.  Pat Summitt is, for my money, the best coach, male or female, I’ve ever been around - from a basketball knowledge and organizational standpoint, as a motivator, a leader and as I posted in my ninth ever blog   (4/23/07) someone who could and would be a highly successful coach of men (of which she has absolutely no desire).  So, this blog is not written by a “women’s basketball-hater.”   Of which, unfortunately, there are many.

That said, last night’s national championship game set the women’s game back more than just a few steps.  To begin with, it was the perfect stage - following, arguably, the most exciting (especially considering the participants involved) men’s championship game ever.  Basketball fans were left with great anticipation for more heart-pounding action.  The very next night, the women paraded out their two best teams - the #1 team in the land, with a 77-game winning streak on the line against its opponent, #2 and the last team to have beaten what’s become “The Evil Empire” (as Geno used to refer to the Lady Vols, after their sixth national championship and third in a row, this one of the undefeated variety).  In addition, Stanford entered the contest with a glossy 36-1 record, the only loss to mighty UConn, in Storrs, by an 80-68 margin - noteworthy because it was the closest anyone had come to defeating the Lady Huskies.  This was no David vs. Goliath battle.

Another storyline - and if you don’t believe it, your head’s buried deep in the sand - is the favorite was coached by a man; the underdog, by a woman.  Ask anyone in the women’s game and if they give you an honest answer, this situation might as well be known as The Great Divide.  Take it from someone who worked closely with the biggest group of overzealous Title IX fanatics since the invention of lawyers (and I’m not only referring to women making up that group).

So the game starts and the rumbling that could be felt from San Antonio to San Salvador was that of James Naismith turning over in his grave.  The halftime score was 20-12.  There were more turnovers than baskets.  The upset-minded team was scorching the nets at a blistering 25.8%, while the team that threatened John Wooden’s heretofore- thought-of as unapproachable record (88 straight games without a loss) had just suffered through a drought of 16 consecutive missed shots, on its way to shooting 17.2%.

The second half began as more of the same.  The first TV time out came and Stanford had yet to score.  In fact, if it weren’t for Maya Moore, forcing someone to watch this game would have replaced water in the Chinese culture.  Moore, probably the top three players in the women’s game (if people were allowed to vote for a player more than once), finally made some shots and, whether coaches or commentators will admit it (”This was truly a team victory!”), single handedly won the game for UConn.  Once Moore (UConn) caught and passed the Cardinal, a couple of her teammates summoned up the courage to knock down a shot or two.  Until that time, there wasn’t a player on the floor who could make an uncontested shot - from any range - and there weren’t too many candidates who seemed anxious to even try.

The “man-haters” - oh yeah, those exist, too - will start spewing other numbers, e.g. graduation rates, the lack of one-and-dones, arrests - to remove the focus from the putrid display of their side’s two best teams setting basketball back decades.  But even if this area, females are catching up to their male counterparts, as witnessed by Baylor’s Brittany Griner not only punching an opponent, but , with pre-meditation, throwing a hay-maker, walking into the hit from a couple steps away.  Who can say what would have happened had a male player done the same to an opposing player?  Somehow, I believe the punishment would have merited more than a two-game suspension.

But let’s not be distracted.  The national championship game was a fiasco.  Certainly, the women’s game is better than what was nationally televised last evening.  Yet, in the case of yesterday’s UConn-Stanford game, we have to look no further than Benjamin Disraeli who said:  

“The secret of success in life is for someone to be ready for their opportunity when it comes.”

The Baylor-UConn game was close for a while.  A while longer than most people thought it might have been.  And it could have been a great deal more interesting had Baylor made some make-able shots after they cut the Lady Huskies lead to three.

What I noticed was what seems to happen to all (incredibly) dominant teams.  When the game is closer than expected, especially in the second half, the outside jump shots that easily find the bottom of the net when the lead is 20+, tend to come up a tad short.  Then, the rim not only doesn’t have the manhole cover off of it any longer, but it looks a lot smaller.  Adding to that psychological factor is the real live one, i.e. that everyone in the arena wants to see the little guy (even if their center is 6′8″ - or 6′4″ as in their next opponent) upset the unbeatable team.

Baylor had its chances.  It’s hard to criticize a team for not shooting 90%.  How can anyone expect a performance like that?  Hint: Ask the 1985 Villanova Wildcats who not only did it, but had they not, they would have gone down in history as the team that gave a monumental effort against a team no one could have beaten anyway.

Enter the Stanford Cardinal.  While UConn has won a zillion games in a row (actually 77), the Lady Cardinal (can a color have a gender?) have only one blemish on their record - and it happens to be the closest game the Lady Huskies have had to date.  If the women’s game will ever draw a major market share of a television audience, the intrigue of this scenario is as much as anyone could have scripted.

First, it will be televised on Tuesday - the night after the final men’s game is broadcast, meaning there is no competition from the “other” side, yet still at a time fans are craving for college hoops.  The giants are coached by a (and don’t think this isn’t a major divisive factor in the women’s game) man (ugh!) - and not just any man, but one who has done everything in his power to create controversy and intentionally label himself as public enemy number one (and don’t think he doesn’t love all that comes with that).  Title IX didn’t cure all the ills. 

While Baylor looked a little rattled (how can anyone blame them - on such a large stage), it would surprise many close to the sport if Stanford didn’t fare better.  Pressure to their players is taking their third final of the day - in Organic Chemistry.  Basketball is something they actually like.  After all, that’s the reason they chose Stanford in the first place.  Don’t believe anything else you might hear.  The scholarship they accepted is for basketball, and why they chose The Farm might be for Tara, or Stanford’s tradition, but, believe me, the decision was made for the moment they’re about to experience Tuesday night.  To quote one of the greatest competitors, male or female, who ever had to deal in similar situations, Billie Jean King:

“No matter how tough, no matter what kind of outside pressure, no matter how many bad breaks along the way, I must keep my sights on the final goal, to win, win, win - and with more love and passion than the world has ever witnessed in any performance.” Â

Last night, as I do every Wednesday night between 6:00-7:00 pm during the college basketball season, I acted as the host for The Jerry Tarkanian Show.  Only this time Jerry Tarkanian wasn’t there.  I’ve been hosting his show for five years now and last night was only the second time ever he’s missed one.  Each time he had an engagement he couldn’t get out of.

My idea was to do an hour on “Why Jerry Tarkanian should be in the Naismith Hall of Fame.”  I know he wouldn’t do it if he were there and it is something I feel quite strongly about.  Since the show was an hour long, explaining all of it wouldn’t be practical but here’s a summary.

First, I gave the history behind the battle between the NCAA and Tark.  It started when he was the head coach at Long Beach State and the Long Beach Press-Telegram newspaper requested he write a guest column.  Jerry being Jerry, he selected “selective enforcement of the rules” by the governing body.  What he said was what all coaches (and others on the inside of the sport) knew to be true, but in those days, the NCAA was run by executive director Warren Brown who was known to be more like the czar of intercollegiate athletics.  The gauntlet was thrown down and thus began the closer than normal scrutiny of Jerry and the schools at which he coached.

I told a story of tiny Western Carolina being put on probation for 23 (what would now be considered by the Kinder, gentler NCAA, minor) violations (they were turned in by a disgruntled player who had a brother at a big-time, not so clean, institution, who knew which silly rules violations to look for), yet how Kentucky was superslick when it came to CYA.  Great stories but too long for this blog.

I readily spoke of Jerry’s flaws - the greatest of which, I feel, was not holding the kids accountable.  They’d screw up and he’d call them “good kids,” meaning they were good kids who made a mistake.  They took advantage of him by thinking, “Hey, we’re good kids and good kids don’t mess up, so what we did wasn’t a mistake.”  In other words, he was too loyal to his troops - a not-so awful trait to have in this “throw them under the bus to make me look good and advance my career” type of leadership.

His reasons for inclusion were he won big at the high school level (San Joaquin Memorial in Fresno), at the JC level (multiple state championships at not one, but two junior colleges) and won big at three D-I programs, each of which was in awful shape prior to his arrival - Long Beach State (where he left a powerhouse for his successor, Lute Olson), UNLV (where he went to four Final Fours and won a National Championship - by the largest margin of victory in a final game, 103-73 over Duke in 1990) and his alma mater, Fresno State (where he went 7-7 in postseason play and won 20+ games a year in six of those, winning 19 in the seventh).

For all of his faults, I pointed out that coaching is putting your team in its best position to win and, contrary to other coaches who won by sticking with one system and recruiting players to fit that system, Jerry won playing full court, pressure man-to-man, half court man, 1-2-2 zone and amoeba zone.  That is coaching. 

I also mentioned that, prior to Don Haskins playing an all-black starting five vs. UK in the National Championship game, Jerry did the same in the Olympic Trials.  After winning the event, a reporter went up to him and said, “Coach, how did you feel starting an all black team?” to which Jerry responded (which comes as no surprise to people who know him) with, “I did?”  He wasn’t trying to make a political statement, just doing what was best to win.  That, and other similar acts is why he’s in the Black Coaches Association Hall-of-Fame.

No matter what anyone thinks of him or his style, it’s impossible to contest these basic facts:  1) He could really coach.  2) He could get his kids to play hard.  3) His teams played an exciting brand of basketball. 

For the anti-Tarks, I close with a quote from Stephen Covey they need to keep in mind:

“We judge others by their actions; ourselves by our intentions.” �

The story that hit the wire service yesterday was of the massage therapist at UNC saying to Roy Williams, no doubt to make him put his team’s current woes in perspective (Carolina had dropped seven of their last nine games, now eight of ten after last night’s home defeat versus Duke), “Coach, what’s going on in Haiti is a catastrophe, what you’re going through is a disappointment.”

Roy’s reply was, “Depends on which chair you’re sitting in.”

Wow!  The uproar from the bleeding hearts and the contrarians (and the Tar Heel haters) and, possibly a large majority of the nation was of astronomical proportions.  But before the entire civilized world burns Roy in effigy (and not for the losing streak), allow me to clarify what I believe he meant.

Here’s my explanation.  Roy Williams is probably a more caring individual than most college coaches.  I’ve known Roy since he was a high school coach in Asheville, NC in 1977.  He makes a ton of money, but isn’t as materialistic as many of his contemporaries.  In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if I were to find out he wrote a large check to the relief fund there.

Here are a couple of Roy’s most glaring traits.  One is he truly outworks the competition.  That’s an overused term in coaching, but in Roy’s case, there’s tangible evidence.  When they were both assistants to Dean Smith at Carolina, Eddie Fogler told me that Roy is incapable of sleeping on an airplane (until I got on these pain drugs, I had the identical problem).  When he would take the West-to-East Coast red eye, he’d be up all night writing notes to recruits, get to the Raleigh-Durham airport at six or so in the morning and go directly to the office.  He would take a shower and start his day, just as every other UNC employee who just had a full night’s sleep.

Another famous “Roy outwork the comp story” was when he was at Kansas and they were recruiting Raef LaFrentz, the best player (by far) in Iowa.  Naturally, there was tremendous pressure on LaFrentz to attend Iowa.  After he committed to KU, LaFrentz and his dad said how impressed they were that Roy attended the BCI tournament in Tempe, AZ in person to watch him play, while the Iowa head coach sent his assistant coaches to the event.  The excuse was that Iowa was in the middle of their basketball camp and the coach felt obligated to the campers to be there.  What was so impressive about Roy being there was that KU was in the middle of their camp as well.  Roy used a private plane to fly to Tempe after his camp session, watched Raef play (of course, making sure the LaFrentz’s knew he was there) and then flew back to Lawrence after the evening BCI games.

Another of Roy’s characteristics is that he might be the most competitive coach in the business.  Forget that “Aw shucks, Deputy Dawg, Ol’ Roy” facade.  Underneath it all beats the heart of a guy who is a fanatical, relentless game planner who would just as soon stop breathing as he would stop winning.

My take on Roy’s Haiti comment is that, while he sympathizes as much as the next person over the plight of those unfortunate people, what is it people want him to do?  If someone told him his presence in Haiti would cure the problem, my bet is he’d be on the next plane.  His comment was not meant to compare the problem in Haiti to the problems the Tar Heels are experiencing.  It was just to point out that, from the seat he’s in, as far as what he can control, for what he’s paid to do (and, since he has the highest winning percentage of any coach in the country, he apparently does it well), he - and his squad - are facing a catastrophe.  Of course not of the same proportions, but a catastrophe nonetheless.

Do his critics think he should call a team meeting and say to his guys, “Fellas, sure we’ve lost eight out of our last ten games - something that’s unacceptable in this program with all the tradition the players before you worked so hard to build - but it’s not a catastrophe?  What’s going on in Haiti is a catastrophe.”  Undoubtedly, there are readers right now who are shaking their in agreement with that past statement, but my question to you is, “How does that help North Carolina’s basketball team - or what’s going on in Haiti?” 

I wonder if the head shakers had a job in which they were graded (win or loss) at the end of certain days, and they lost eight out of ten of those (and their job security depended on having more W’s than L’s - a lot more), whether they’d feel better about their performance if they thought about the tragedy in Haiti.  

When I posed this question to Tark last night on The Jerry Tarkanian Show, he responded with a line that cut right to the heart of the matter.  His feeling was that Roy shouldn’t have said what he said - to the massage therapist.  Jerry’s thought was:

“That’s something you should only say to another coach because they would understand what you meant.”

 Â

As stated in the last blog, I made the trip to the Bay Area this weekend to watch our son, Alex, and his Buchanan Bears.  An unexpected highlight of the trip was hearing from longtime friend, Pete Vaz.  We met as co-workers at the Michael Jordan Flight School in Santa Barbara many years ago.  I’d emailed him that I was going to be at the DeLaSalle tournament if Buchanan won their opening night game, meaning I could make the 6:30 pm tipoff on Friday.

Pete, a loyal reader (who will give honest - and not always complimentary - reactions to these blogs), sent me a text Saturady morning that mentioned his Mission San Jose High School team was playing in a tournament that afternoon at Valley Christian.  Since their game was scheduled for 2:00 pm and Buchanan didn’t play until 5:00, I decided to head south to catch the finals.

MSJ, Pete had just told me, was recently ranked (by I believe, US News & World Report - and if not that magazine, an equally reliable one e.g. not Playboy or Field & Stream, two interesting “reads,” but neither so accurate when rating academic qualities of high schools) as the 32nd best academic high school in the United States!  Without offending the “sensitivity police,” it didn’t shock me that when Pete’s Warriors took to the court, I noticed the overwhelming majority of the players (like, maybe, all), were Asian.  For those people who look for any comment not purely vanilla to be offensive, this is a meant as a compliment.

Although the two schools competing were in the small schools category in the state of California, the intensity of the game was every bit as high as that of a Division I tilt.  In fact, the coach of the host squad (Valley Christian) was none other than Rod Woodson, the Hall-of-Fame Pittsburgh Steeler - and someone who would know the meaning of the word intensity.

I got there early and saw an example of the trials and tribulations of coaching high school that people like Phil Jackson and John Calipari don’t have to deal with.  While Pete’s told me on several occasions, his team is forced to practice at 5:30 am due to lack of facilities (a common problem among many high school coaches), I saw first hand an issue I’d never before encountered or even heard about.  In order for Pete to have his starting point guard available for the championship game, he needed to sign a form presented to him by the boy’s father.  It was a request that the boy miss his Saturday Chinese class that afternoon.  And I thought Ron Artest wanting to take time off to cut a rap album was the topper.  In reality, Pete’s point guard missing a Chinese class will probably affect the world more than not being able to hear Artest’s work of art.

Since I got to the game an hour before it was scheduled, Pete and I had a chance to catch up on some issues, both important and not so.  Then, before the game, Coach Vaz turned to me and said, “It’s time for me to tell these guys how good they are.”  After the pregame talk, all that was necessary was for the consolation game to end and when it did, the home team took the floor.  I was impressed, but not surprised, with the type of athlete would be attracted to a school coached by a former great NFL star.

Then the brainiac Asians took to the court and went through their warmups, with a precision and dedication that would make any coach proud.  In the well-known coachspeak, the MSJ Warriors really looked “ready to play.”  And, apparently, they were, jumping out to a lead they would continue to build on throughout the game.

Due to all the back operations and subsequent pain I’ve experienced, I can’t sit in high school bleachers.  One of the presents my wife gave me (and has given me 10-12 times over because I keep breaking them) is a portable rocking chair.  I bring it to every game I go to, independent of where it is.  I plant myself in a corner of the gym and rock away (one, because I love rocking and always have, dating back to pre-school days, and two, because it does give me some relief from back pain).  My seat happened to be in the corner where the Warriors’ bench was.

One of the other bonuses of coaching high school ball is the pressure you get is mostly self-inflicted and Pete, being one of the all-time great humorists, would occasionally venture to the end of the bench and we’d have (very) brief exchanges of pithy comments.  One of the more serious ones dealt with my initial reaction to his guys playing man-to-man defense.  “Your guys really get after it!” I honestly exclaimed, truly impressed by the intensity his guys displayed right in front of me.  He turned to me and said, “We don’t back down from anybody!”  This time he wasn’t joking.

At halftime, his guys were up ten, 31-21, and increased the lead to 14 with 14 minutes to play, i.e. 6:00 minutes to go in the third quarter.  As with most high school kids, MSJ, due to reasons of their own, as well as improved play by the opposition, frittered away the lead until they were up only two late in the game.  Whether it was the toughness of the early morning practices, the understanding they got from having to study (and not just cram) for the difficult courses they take at the top notch academic school or the superior coaching, they held on, made (enough) free throws (although that area could stand some improvement) and locked down defensively to win the tournament championship going away by a score of 61-51.

The best line I heard all night came, naturally, from Pete, who has been at MSJ for over two decades.  When, prior to the game, Rod Woodson asked him the question every coach asks the opponent (almost as a coaching ritual), “How’s your team?” Pete deadpanned:

“We’re not very good, but we’re well-coached.”

When you see coaches who look and sound like they’re miserable, think of this guy, who is living his dream job.Â

For the record, let me state that I am in full agreement that people who make slurs about someone’s race, heritage, sexual orientation or ethnicity should be made aware that this behavior is unacceptable.  Such comments, especially when made with an explicit intention to be mean and hateful, have no business in a civilized society and the offender needs to be, in most cases, educated that the world is “shrinking” and no longer do people only live and associate with “their own kind.” 

But, recently, people have seemed to take sensitivity to levels never before been discovered.  Granted, many of the remarks said in the ’60s and ’70s - and even the late 20th century - are now, (and ought to be, as the world shrinks to a civilized melting pot), taboo.  However, some of the statements that people claim offend them are a product of overly sensitive folks, many of whom I’m thoroughly convinced are looking for either their “15 minutes of fame” or “a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”  And, please, don’t tell me someone is flipping through the Rolodex for their lawyer’s number for my last remark.  If you don’t know what I’m referring to, I sincerely say, “Thank you!”

The latest “speech criminals” to be disciplined (and worse, embarrassed) are the Los Angeles Clippers’ broadcast team, Ralph Lawler and Michael Smith.  The reason for the sullying of their names and each of them having to bear the moniker of “politically incorrect zealot” is due to a brief conversation they had during a recent Clippers’ telecast. An introduction of these borderline felons would be helpful in explaining their heinous crime.

Lawler is 71 years old and is currently in his 31st year with the Clips, having broadcast around 2400 regular and post season games (and anyone who has even the slightest knowledge of the Clippers knows that means nearly all of those contests were of the regular season variety).  Smith is in his 12th year.  Neither of these men are considered novices in the business.  What follows is a transcript (taken from the Los Angeles Times‘ website) of the viciously cruel comments that resulted in their having to serve a one-game suspension (and subsequently caused the management of the LA Clippers’ organization to issue a public apology for their two long-time employees). Smith: “Look who’s in.” Lawler: “Hamed Haddadi. Where’s he from?” Smith: “He’s the first Iranian to play in the NBA.” (Smith pronounced Iranian as “Eye-ranian,” a pronunciation that offended the viewer who complained.) Lawler: “There aren’t any Iranian players in the NBA,” repeating Smith’s mispronunciation. Smith: “He’s the only one.” Lawler: “He’s from Iran?” Smith: “I guess so.” Lawler: “That Iran?” Smith: “Yes.” Lawler: “The real Iran?” Smith: “Yes.” Lawler: “Wow. Haddadi that’s H-A-D-D-A-D-I.” Smith: “You’re sure it’s not Borat’s older brother?” Smith: “If they ever make a movie about Haddadi, I’m going to get Sacha Baron Cohen to play the part.” Lawler: “Here’s Haddadi. Nice little back-door pass. I guess those Iranians can pass the ball.” Smith: “Especially the post players. Lawler: “I don’t know about their guards.”  

Let me pose a question.  Are you as irate as I am?  Before you answer, first allow me to say, it was a rhetorical question, meant to come across as tongue-in-cheek. 

Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?!?  The Times story also said “The on-air banter offended a viewer who e-mailed Fox to complain.”  A VIEWER (as in one).  Not one thousand guys, not one group of guys, not one of their sponsors.  Just a viewer.  And, although I’m not a gambling man, I’d be willing to place more than a few shekels that this complaint, whether - via email, phone call, flyer, letter, sit-in, demonstation - is not the first of this joker’s career - as verbally battered victim.

Have we, as a nation of educated humans, lost our abilty to distinguish light banter, intended merely as a form of levity and used to break up the monotony and boredom of the day’s events (like watching a Clippers’ broadcast) from those comments made to intentionally disparage a group of people?  Remarks like those said - from the heart - in hatred.  Like those of Michael Richards, Ann Coulter and Jesse Jackson? The Lawler-Smith conversation was merely a rather inept attempt at humor.  The others, and you wouldn’t be too far off the mark to include Don Imus’ now famous commentary with them, were in an entirly different and infinitely more egregious category.

Is what happened to the Clippers’ guys here to stay?  Is there anyone out there (and, unfortunately, there probably is) who would be offended if a broadcast team said, “Well, the Bulls are in town which means their ‘Eye-talian’ coach, Vinny Del Negro, will be in the building.”

“Are you sure he’s not Rocky Balboa’s older brother?”

“If they make a movie about D’Antoni, I’m going to get Sylvester Stallone play the part.”

Should someone truly be offended by those comments, I can only say that if experiencing such a horrific attack is the worst thing that ever happens to them, they’ve lived an extraordinarily charmed life.

The absurdity of the suspension of Lawler and Smith can only be summed up with a quote that matches it in logic.  It was uttered by that famous philospher, Mike Tyson:

“My biggest weakness is my sensitivity.  I am too sensitive a person.”

As a coach, you know your fans want you to win.  Even if they hate you, they still want their team to experience the taste of victory.  Then, your detractors can always dream, maybe you’ll get another job - or even better, maybe you’ll do something foolish (verbally abuse your assistants, players, secretary, somebody else’s wife, or even your own body) and get caught on a morals charge so, not only can the team win, but you’ll be dismissed.  To a disgruntled fan, that is the true daily double.

All coaches know this and live with it.  Maybe they upset a fan because the coach was about to miss his plane, so he blew off a request for an autograph or picture.  Or, maybe the coach is truly an egomaniacal butthead.  Whichever, the coach realizes pissed off fans come with the job.

But how about when your own people start rooting against you.  Example: Last night, Utah State played a football game against Boise State.  Each of the first two times the Aggies scored, it was to tie the game.  There was utter and complete jubilation for those pulling for USU.  Wait!  What exactly do you think Karl Benson, the WAC commissoner, who’s been politicking (as he should be) for Boise State to get into a BCS bowl, was thinking?  “C’mon, Aggies, play hard, play well, but don’t you know what the impact of you guys winning would do to our league?“  His fears were unfounded as Boise ripped off the next zillion points in a row on their way to another blowout (albeit of a WAC school, providing the double-edged sword that, sure the Broncos are good, but look at how weak the rest of their league is).

You think Benson (closet) cheering for the Broncos is bad?  What do you think was running through the minds of Utah State’s administration as dear ol’ USU was showing they weren’t about to back down to one of the nation’s top teams?  By administration, I mean from the prez on down.  Unless the financial condition of institutions of higher learning in Utah are drastically different than that of other states (like every other one in the union), the financial hit Utah State would take if a WAC opponent (since that’s all they’ve got left) beats Boise State and thwarts their chance of going to a BCS bowl, is astronomical.  Not only for Boise (who would take the major brunt of the financial loss), but for the rest of the WAC schools too.  The mere pittance each of the other WAC schools would be awarded (compared to what the BCS schools divvy up - even those whose football team has won once - and probably against a D-II squad - in OT) is a big-time line item for schools in the WAC, Mountain West, Conference USA, MAC and whoever else I’m leaving out due to the fact, well, they’re just not as well-known as the BCS fellas.  It stands to reason that every other AD is pulling for Boise State to win each week, if for no other reason than financial, why is it so far fetched an idea that the director of athletics of the “opponent of the day” would be able to switch loyalties so easily.  After all, isn’t it, ultimately, the AD’s main job to balance the budget.  So, it stands to reason that if he wants to keep his job, the logical choice, in terms of his preference for the outcome of such a game . . .

Throw in the loss of publicity (if the Broncos do make it, everybody - with the exception of Goliath’s faithful - will be pulling for David and if they don’t get in, they’ll be the national martyr of the year - again - for getting snubbed) and it’s a wonder there’s not an unwritten rule among the WAC teams.  Coaches, though, being the rather competitve sort, know that beating Boise State will do wonders for their recruiting (or so they’ve led themselves to believe). 

Having been on the coaching side, while sitting on the Executive Committe of the Fresno State athletics department (by invitation of the director), I had my eyes opened to the reality of conferences trying to play with the big boys without the big boy weapons.

Maybe satirist Kin Hubbard said it best:

“It’s no disgrace to be poor, but it might as well be.”    Â