Jack’s Blog

Most people, myself included, read Sports Illustrated for the articles.  At least until the swimsuit edition arrives.  But other than that issue, pictures are secondary (after the first few pages) to the written word.  The last page has become an audition to see which writer comes as close in popularity to the readers as Rick Reilly.  It might be a stretch to compare him to John Wooden but there seems to be no outright favorite yet even though there have been several very good columns.  It seems that there are many Gene Bartows, Gary Cunninghams, Walt Hazzards, Jim Harricks, Steve Lavins and Ben Howlands (most of whom were outstanding coaches) at SI but no one like Coach Wooden.  For my money, there hasn’t even been a Larry Brown yet.

When SI first asked its readers which of a list of sports, other than football, basketball, baseball and possibly a couple others that currently escape my mind (which shows my particular tastes), they had an interest in, e.g. tennis, golf, auto racing, etc. my choices came down to tennis and golf.  It was a tough choice and if I were younger - and still playing tennis - that would have been what I’d have selected.  Since my back issues eliminated playing tennis about a decade ago, I chose golf.  Now I get additional articles on the sport as well as special extra editions.  A good friend of mine is a scratch (or close) golfer so those issues go to him, after I’ve briefly scanned them.

The one on the Masters that just came out intrigued me enough that as I perused it, the article with their panel of (three) experts (and one anonymous pro) caught my eye.  Opinions abound in sports and I’ve found (through experience) it’s always a good idea to hear what others who are deeply involved in a sport or topic think before you start popping off, or even discussing, issues so as not to look foolish.  Although I’ve read some interesting points in the past, little did I think I’d come across as introspective an explanation as Gary Van Sickle’s regarding Rory McElroy’s approach to his profession.  Van Sickle said of the young star:

“He’s not all golf like Tiger was.  Rory is going to take the time to enjoy his life.  He reminds me of Arnold Palmer a little there.  He’ll be streaky great, and he’s got other interests.  He’ll have a better quality of life, and if that means a couple fewer major wins in the long run, that’s all right.”

In addition to expertly defining the differences between the two golfers, the Van Sickle quote speaks volumes to most everybody who has a job.  If you’ve just entered the working world, those are your choices.  How do you approach your profession?  Do you love it so much that it consumes your every waking minute?  In the business world, that type of an employee is called a workaholic.  Those people often find an abundance of material wealth, yet, frequently, there is something missing in their life in another area of it.  In the field of sports, we call them single minded and driven.  Some (most?) people think a person’s life should be balanced.  We all remember the old adage “All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.” 

The times and people (and salaries/purses for sporting events/endorsement deals) have made that quote obsolete.  Now, it’s “get it while you can” and “the window of opportunity is open only so long.”  Maybe not so much in golf where some wise brilliant old golfer had the imagination - or told somebody else - to create a Seniors Tour.  Still, people don’t want to see extraordinary talent not pushed to the ultimate.  Usually parents and agents because 1) nearly all of them weren’t as athletically blessed and 2) they don’t have to do the heavy lifting.

Far too many people have altered the line so that it turned around the original message.  Maybe Rory McElroy has it right but for now it’s become:     

“All work and no play make Jack (or Jill) a champion.”

Heading into their match up with Michigan, Billy Donovan, a coach who’s noted for details or, as we’ve learned during the media time out, logistics, needed to come up with a game plan for his Florida team.  One strategy would be to pressure the Wolverines and try to force as many turnovers as they could so the Gators would have numerous opportunities to score in the open court.  That had been their usual plan throughout the season.  Another method would be to make it a half court game so that the Gators could take advantage of their superior size and pound it inside because UM usually played with four guards and only one big man.

Donovan chose the one that exploited the inside mismatch.  On paper it was an excellent philosophy - except for the fact that his inside guys weren’t as noted for their back-to-the-basket skills as much as they were for facing up and offensive rebounding.  I wonder how much time Billy himself worked with those inside guys, explaining how vital it was they scored (as much as I’d like to think players listen to an assistant - having been one for 30 years - I fully understand their antennae tune in more sharply when the head man speaks).  Not pressing the action defensively as much as they could have meant the greater majority of their point production had to come from the “bigs.”

It might have been a moot point because had his team extended its defense to attempt to create turnovers against Michigan, the Wolverines’ guards might have broken the pressure.  Then any of their three point shooters (of which they have four on the floor during most possessions) would have been knocking down shots - scoring in threes.

Basically, there are two philosophies in forming a game plan: 1) if we go to our strength(s), will that be good enough for us to win or 2) would it better to attack their weaknesses?  Naturally, there are others but for the most they’re derivatives of the two above.  Unfortunately, the Gators looked much more reactive on defense and, while they were getting the ball inside, their bigs weren’t scoring, mainly because they’re not true back-to-the-basket players.  Before you know it, they were down a couple.  Touchdowns.  It was 13-0 and it only got worse.  UF attempted to rally but every mistake was magnified, e.g. fouling a three point shooter at the end of the half which thwarted the minor momentum they’d built.

Billy Donovan has currently been to three consecutive Elite Eights.  Florida fans might be disappointed they haven’t gone farther.  Well, Gator Nation, Ben Howland is available.  Oh yeah, he committed the same crime at UCLA (although his were Final Four “failures.”  For now, the Florida faithful can take solace in the fact they seem to be stuck with Billy the Kid - the same guy they cheered when he changed his mind and reneged on the offer he’d accepted from the Orlando Magic.

When a game between relative equals starts out like the UF-UM game did yesterday, it tends to balance out after a while or, as George Raveling used to say:

“The game will return to reality.”

As Jerry Tarkanian says so often, getting into the NCAA Tournament is a reward for a good season.  Losing in it, however, as every team but one does, almost seems like a punishment.  Although I never was part of an NCAA tourney squad as a player, I was an assistant on three different staffs that made a total of six NCAA tourney appearances (along with ten NITs - two of them Final Fours).  When your team is eliminated (yeah, in the NIT, too), you experience such an empty feeling, it’s hard for the fan, media member or any other person who’s never been in the arena as a competitor, to comprehend.

Recent cases in point: Jamie Dixon, head coach at Pitt, who’s done such a marvelous job at a football school, in a football city.  He’s raised the bar that his former boss, Ben Howland, set extremely high.  He had his club in the Top 5 all season.  Yet, he’s now being criticized as the guy who “can’t win the big one” because of another premature departure in the postseason.  He can solace in the fact that past “title holders” include Dean Smith, Jim Boeheim, Rick Pitino and Roy Williams.

Ben Howland, UCLA, was under heavy scrutiny for having a losing season last year and, while winning a first round game this year, came under fire for almost blowing a big lead to Michigan State.  This is the same guy who took over a program that was built on sticks when he got there and he shortly thereafter took the Bruins to three consecutive Final Fours.

Among yesterday’s “losers” was none other than Mike Krzyzewski whose Duke Blue Devils were, after leading by six at the half against Arizona (and the only reason they weren’t ahead by 20+ was a 25-point performance by Derrick Williams), embarrassed by the high energy Wildcats.  Now, second guessers all around the country will be analyzing (criticizing) the best coach in the college game about his decision to play freshman point guard Kyrie Irving, who missed nearly the entire regular season (and ACC Tournament).

A few of the talking heads have questioned the wisdom of Coach K with the idea that Nolan Smith took over the point guard position when Irving went down and played magnificently - earning such praise as being a potential Player-of-the-Year candidate.  While that argument appears to have merit (because they lost and Smith played possibly his worst game of the year), don’t think for one second that had Mike chosen not to play Irving after doctors had cleared him and, naturally, Duke had lost, he wouldn’t be second guessed by the very same indivduals.

Can’t you just hear it now?  “Krzyzewski has the best player in the country - the guy everybody who knows anything about basketball is saying is the #1 pick in this year’s NBA draft - and he doesn’t use him!  What could he have possibly been thinking?  A weapon like that and you keep him on the shelf.”

The question about whether to play Irving and risk disrupting the team’s marvelous chemistry was bantered about on studio shows and talk radio - with no conclusive answer.  Of course, those who, at that time, suggested it would be wrong to do so are now throwing out their shoulders patting themselves on the back - as if they knew Smith would have such a poor performance.  Their comments today would undoubtedly have much less volume had the Dookies prevailed.

On one of the post-game shows, Tom Izzo, a fellow who knows a thing or two about winning, was asked that exact question and his response, tongue-in-cheek, was right on point:

“It’s a problem I’d like to have.”

I’ve been hosting The Jerry Tarkanian Show for something like six years now and, although I’ve known Jerry since we met in 1974 when he brought his two sons to our basketball camp at Washington State - and worked for him during his entire seven-year tenure at Fresno State, the guy still continues to amaze me.  Don’t think I don’t know he has his detractors - many loud, public and vehement regarding his coaching career.

They number many, fans and media alike, but there’s usually one thing most of them have in common.  They don’t know him.  A great majority have never even met him.  It’s just that their “sense of moral outrage” skyrockets whenever his name is brought up.

For those who do know him, whether quite well or just casually, the percentage who genuinely like him is overwhelming.  He has absolutely sensational people skills.  But not only that (which anyone could say about a friend of theirs), he has the respect of the coaching fraternity.  He is truly a coach’s coach, in that he has a firm grasp on the trials and tribulations coaches go through.  He has thorough knowledge of how difficult a profession coaching is - and how hard it is to win (what you’re ultimately judged by, independent of what some talk show hosts pontificate) - and keep winning.  At an extremely high level.  Year after year.  in his case, decade after decade.

Possibly, that’s why he has the most extensive Rolodex of any coach I know.  At close to 80 years of age, Jerry Tarkanian can’t do much for a college coach.  Unless you’re talking about sound advice regarding game planning, recruiting or avoiding/bouncing back from the pitfalls that coaches inevitably face.  Yet they all welcome his call.

The show is divided into four segments, the second of which is a pre-recorded interview between Jerry and someone prominent in the coaching or basketball industry.  This year, we’ve switched the local ESPN station (1430AM) after having been with Fox Sports.  The show runs throughout the college basketball season.  So far this year, Tark has interviewed Gavin Maloof (the Kings are also a major sponsor), Bob Knight and John Calipari (how many guys can turn that double play?), Roy Williams, Bill Self and last night, to show he has a sense for “who’s hot news now,” Kevin O’Neill.

When Jerry thanked Knight at the end of the interview for being on the show because, “I know you don’t really like doing these, Bobby” (Knight has been on the show each of the years Tark’s done it), Bob said (as only he can), “Tark, there aren’t that many people I like.”  The “younger” coaches (Self, O’Neill, Howland, Izzo, Williams, et al) gush with genuine admiration regarding how they wish they could get their teams to play as hard as Jerry continually got his teams to play.  Self, an annual guest as well, never fails to tell about the season his Tulsa team lost only four regular season games - and three of them were to Fresno State!  Sincere compliments from your peers is a sign of success in your chosen profession.

Last year, near the end of the season, I remarked to Jerry that I had done some research and we had every coach who was in the top 10 in the country at one time or another as a guest on the show - with one exception.  That was Jim Calhoun.  Jerry said to me:

“Oh, I had Jim a couple weeks ago.  After we finished the interview, the guy in the studio told me he forgot to push the (record) button.”      Â

Just got back in town from a day-and-a-half basketball camp on UCLA’s campus that Alex was invited to attend. 

The camp was advertised as a great learning experience for the participants: be taught by the entire Bruin coaching staff, see their returning players demonstrate and, for some, compete against their incoming freshmen.  Stay one night in a dormitory room, eat on campus and play in historic Pauley Pavillion.

The camp ran as promised - and then some.  On the second day, there was a slot for a guest speaker.  Many of the events had been shifted or, even cancelled (e.g. Sunday nights games - but there wasn’t a peep to be heard from anyone, as the kids were absolutely beat), and the wise move of not playing the evening games was made, improving the quality of play yesterday.

Back to the guest speaker.  It was downplayed - to the point of, not only no gigantic mystery as to the identity - but, not even mentioning it - leaving open, to those who looked at the schedule and saw a number of changes, the possibility of abandoning the “guest speaker” slot and substituting games.

No way - not in Westwood.  For those of you who might be guessing the Wizard as the speaker, it’s fairly common knowledge that health issues preclude Coach Wooden from doing something of this nature.  Maybe one of the many sensational former UCLA players (and there’s a plethora of candidates)?  The speaker was none of those.

Instead, an older, but incredibly distiguished looking man - in street clothes - came out to speak to the group of mainly 14-17 year olds, each of whom sat on the Pauley Pavillion floor in utter amazement, hanging on every word - but hearing very few.  None had ever seen him play, but each knew exactly who he was - maybe not by name, but by the nickname he’d been given some years back: The Logo.

Jerry West, in a crisp white shirt (obviously straight from the cleaners), dark slacks, dress shoes and sunglasses (which he had to give to someone to hold a few minutes into the talk because it was difficult to speak with a basketball in one hand and sunglasses in the other) was an imposing sight - even if his attire was rather incongruent to the occasion.

No matter.  I have to admit I moved down to the floor level to better hear what he was saying, in his soft-spoken tone, more of a nonchalant, “here’s what I know about the game and how I approached it” than a “you’d better pay attention, because if you don’t follow what I’m saying, you’ll never make it” message.  When he finished a couple of the younger guys at the camp simply stared at each other and simultaneously said, “Sweet!“  

The following quote about two types of men pretty much summed up what he had to say - and after hearing him, the listener wasn’t quite sure which category he belonged to - maybe both:

“Some men succeed because they are destined to, but most men because they are determined to.”

A couple days ago, Dick Vitale asked Bob Knight who he (Knight) felt would win it all.  When previously asked to give his selection, Bob, prior to selecting a school, would explain his choice.  Last night, after the Saturday games had ended, Dick kidded (I think) the coach about not giving a definitive answer.

Vitale, breaking all kinds of speaking records (in speed, hand signals and volume), told the crowd that he (Vitale) was going to pick a winner, “and I am not going to say, ‘If this happens,’ or ’should that occur with less than …’ “  He insinuated that Knight was wishy-washy when it came to prognosticating (as if Bob Knight could be wishy-washy about anything). 

What made Coach Knight such a brilliant leader of men (he was chosen to be the head coach of the Olympic team in 1984 - and won the Gold medal - then exited the college game many years later, some say not for good, as the Division I leader in number of games won) was his thorough preparation for upcoming opponents.  He would absorb all of the information that was available, watch video of as many games as were played by those opponents, and after forming his game plans for either squad, he would weigh which scenarios would most likely happen.  It’s only after all that, even if all he’s doing is a television studio show, does he feel comfortable in verbalizing his choice.

I’ve often wondered - on games that are won on a half court buzzer-beater (like my most heart breaking loss of all, the 1992 second round NCAA Tournament game vs. Georgia Tech), if the person who picked the winner was rejoicing, telling all the people who’d listen, how he picked that game.  “Oh yeah, I had that one!” boasts the guy fortunate enough to be on the correct side of pure luck.  Three and a half seconds were on the clock and we (USC) were up two after hitting a short baseline jumper.  They called their last time out.  We told our guys, “Don’t let (Travis) Best or (Jon) Barry beat us.  Our guy, Rodney Chatman, guarded Barry so closely that the ball went out of bounds (off of Rodney’s foot) - with 0.00.8 on the clock.  With the ball on the opposite side of the court from their bench, and them with no TO’s left, it was chaos over there.  Our guys were set on “D” - knowing that we don’t want Barry or Best to beat us and with our center, Yamen Sanders, fronting Matt Geiger (another of their players who went on to the NBA and who played about a decade in the League).  None of those guys touched the ball.  Their freshman, James Forrest, popped out at the last second and, admittedly, didn’t even have a chance to look at the basket.  Naturally, the ball went straight down the middle for the first three-pointer of his life.  My point is, if somebody actually had that pick, I w0uld hope they realized they just dodged a bullet. 

It’s always been so much more impressive if someone had asked you, “Who do you have in the (1990) championship game?” and you say, “UNLV.  Duke doesn’t stand a chance.  They’ll be lucky if they can stay within thirty points of the Rebels,” or, after watching a few videos the following year (1991), you remark, “You know what?  This Blue Devil team seems more mentally tough than last year’s.”  And, sure enough, Duke beat the Runnin’ Rebels (in the semi-finals) that next year (by a point) on their way to winning it all.

If, instead, you had the two logos and put them on the floor, then asked your dog to pick one, if that canine picked the Runnin’ Rebs in ‘90 and the Dookies in ‘91, then maybe you have a dog as smart as your wife thinks it is.  Or maybe you have the luckiest mutt on the planet.

Dick Vitale wants to turn it into “eenie, meenie, meinnie, moe.”  Don’t get me wrong - Vitale makes his tournament selections very judiciously.  It’s just that some games make no sense - which is part of the our leisure time as well.

Saying the game will come down to free throws and if a team has a chance to put the other away and they don’t - and that game happens to be the year Derrick Coleman missed them, or it happens to be the year Rumeal Robinson made them, makes you better at handicapping games than the person who has “Fido” on a roll.

As President Obama tersely replied to a reporter who asked, why, after he’d read the report, did he let that scribe know, in no uncertain terms:

“Because when I am going to speak on something, I like to know what I’m talking about.” 

Everybody’s saying Jay Wright is too good to be true.  Nobody can be that good-looking, that stylish, articulate and successful (not to mention someone who doesn’t look like the country’s current economic woes are bothering him too much, thank you). 

Well, sorry, but I’m here to tell you … he is.  And it’s not an act, he’s legit.  And now he’s one of the Final Four coaches.

I’ve mentioned in many previous blogs of the “mastermind group” that George Raveling (by the way, a proud alum of Villanova, class of ‘60) began in order to improve as a coach - and how, Larry Shyatt and Scott Duncan (at the time, both assistants at New Mexico, currently assisting Billy Donovan at Florida and Ben Howland at UCLA, respectively) called me and suggested we start one for assistants.  Coincidentally, the last one of these self-improvement clinics (which is how we referred to ours) that I attended was in 2001 and was hosted by none other than Mr. Metro-sexual himself, Jay Wright, the year he became the head coach of the Wildcats.  It would probably be adding fuel to the fire to let everyone out there know that Jay is as good a host as he is a person, coach and innovator.

Jay had experienced a tremendous amount of success at Hofstra and knew he needed some new, fresh ideas if he was to compete with the teams in the Big East.  He contacted Coach Shy and said he’d heard of what we were doing and asked if he could become a part of it - that he’d be happy to host that year’s session on the campus of his new (dream) job.  His offer was graciously accepted and we met in the team room at ‘Nova.  When it was Jay’s turn to speak, he laid it all out there.  

First, a bit of an explanation.  One of the rules we had for our clinic was “no secrets,” everything done by anyone’s program (whether head or assistant, since by that time, many of the guys, yours truly not being one of that select group, had risen to the exalted position of head coach) was fair game.  All questions were to be answered truthfully, with nothing held back.  We all realized most everything in basketball has already been done (although guys will tweak an old idea to “modernize it”) and that, if we weren’t going to be completely open, we were wasting each other’s time.  I can distinctly remember traveling to our third clinic, held at the University of Arizona in August of 1985, thinking I was as organized as any assistant could have been when it came to recruiting.  My summer evaluation “system” and method of getting to form relationships with prospects and their coaches was set up so I wasted as little time as possible and watched and evaluated as many prospects as possible.  I would follow up with those coaches and their players whom we were interested in, as well as the coaches of the players who did not interest us - in case, down the road, they had somebody who did and then they’d remember who contacted them even after their kid was deemed not quite good enough to play at that level.  It was more work, but, at that time, I thought “Who’s better than me?” 

It was at that time one of the assistants from Arizona got up to speak on recruiting.  His name was Kevin O’Neill and as he spoke, I felt myself sinking lower and lower in my seat.  He was telling us which players they were going to be signing in three months, which ones they’d be signing the following year and, any time any one of us asked him about a certain recruit, he’d tell us where that kid was going. It was like hanging out with Louella Parsons. At least, I had my answer to “Who’s better than me?” 

The reason for this digression is that same feeling returned in 2001 on Villanova’s campus when Jay Wright started to speak.  This guy took a different approach to the game than the rest of us.  As mentioned previously, he had a ton of success at Hofstra, but a great deal of it came from his star guard, Speedy Claxon.  The team he inherited at ‘Nova was average at best - from Big East standards.  This was one of the reason he wanted to speak so desperately with us.  It wasn’t that we had all - or even, any - answers for him.  It was he wanted to speak to anybody who could help him survive in a conference where the timid don’t get very far.

When we asked him where his inside scoring was going to come from, that was the one question he was very much at ease answering.  “We don’t have an inside scoring threat and I don’t expect to recruit a great one at this date, nor do I think we can develop one in such a short period of time,” was his reply.

“So how do you plan on winning?  Heck, how do you plan on surviving?”

“With our guards.”  He then showed us what he had done at Hofstra and how much of it he thought he could get away with in the new league.  Every time we’d bring up the subject of big men, he just repeated himself, saying the big guys, or, really, guy, because he planned on playing four guards a good deal of the time, were on the floor to set screens and rebound.  They were allowed to shoot if they got an offensive rebound, but he really wasn’t that comfortable with them shooting after every offensive rebound.

Check out a typical Jay Wright team and, normally, his leading scorers and his leaders, are usually guards.  Of course, he’d love to have a Thabeet or a Blair and, if hard work accounts for anything, he’ll get his share.  In the meantime, enjoy watching his guard-heavy team.

One other thing I think will wrap up today’s post as good as any is that Jay Wright is the last person to fit the bill as far as Napolean is concerned.  The little guy is known for the following comment:

“A leader of whom it is said, ‘He’s a nice man’ is lost.” Â

The coaching carousel just began, so hop aboard for one of the wildest rides in coaching history.  Although I’m sure it’s happened before (probably within the last year or so), I just can’t recall a time that two jobs like Kentucky and Arizona were open simultaneously.

The buzzards have been circling over Tucson ever since Lute officially announced his retirement, but when UK went public with what most had been thinking was possible, they check mated ‘Zona.  The reason many were surprised at UK’s decision is that 1) very few coaches I know doubt Billy Gillespie’s credentials as a coach - from a recruiting, teaching and motivating point of view and 2) he’d only been there two years.

On the flip side, he never truly understood the magnitude of the job at Kentucky, all the way through his going away press conference.  Throughout his remarks, one had the feeling that this is what he would have said if he’d been fired anywhere.  And that was the rub with the UK supporters.  They don’t - and never will - consider the University of Kentucky “anywhere.”  Since it hasn’t been taken, I somewhat surprised they haven’t changed their name to the University of Nirvana.

One remark he made was “Tough times don’t last but tough people do.”  With all that went on in Lexington this season, the residents didn’t consider it “tough times.”  It was more like Armageddon.  Seasons like this just don’t happen here (sure, once before when the savior, Rick Pitino, descended on campus and did nothing short of parting the bluegrass).  Of course, to the people who took him in and gave him the premier job in all the land, that traitor is still descending and will continue to do so as long as he remains employed on the other side of the state.

Gillespie simply did things that were beneath the dignity of Kentucky basketball - and I’m not just talking about losing to Gardner Webb (granted, that wasn’t something that endeared him to too many, especially those who wear blue everywhere, including the shower).  Offering a scholarship to an eighth grader!  That’s something a school with no class at all - like Indiana - would do.  Why, there’s not an eighth grader in the nation who wouldn’t accept a scholarship to the best ____________(fill in the blank) school in the nation.  UK people might acknowledge their theology and religion program isn’t as good as, say, a church affiliated school’s, and even would reluctantly admit that they didn’t even have one, but, if they did, it would be the best in the nation world!  Piss them off enough, and a few will go into a back room, write some checks, and voila, theology and religion - country style.

Billy never got that.  He knew he was being compensated better than he was at UTEP and Texas A&M (combined), but, just like those schools, sometimes you just have to have a little patience and things will turn around.  What!!!  Patience?  That’s something doctors have, not UK basketball coaches (and certainly not UK’s fans).

I remember scouting a game in Lexington one year (in the mid-’80s while I was an assistant at Tennessee) when their opponent was Mississippi State, who had Jeff Malone, one of the all-time high scoring wing men ever in the SEC, and, at that time, MSU was a very formidable foe.  The Wildcats won by 25 points or so and I can still hear those fans, exiting Rupp Arena, saying, “Now, that’s more like it.”  They weren’t even pleased, they were held at bay and Joe B. Hall had just extended his reprieve - until Saturday.  And he won a National Championship for these people!    

It takes a guy with awfully thick skin, a major league ego (but with the organizational skills, basketball knowledge and recruiting expertise to back it up), who has a total grasp on what the University of Kentucky basketball program means to their faithful. 

Great news, Wildcat fans!  It’s time to rejoice.  In John Calipari, you got exactly what you want, what you’ve become accustomed to and, better yet, a guy who I happen to think is a better choice for UK than all the other names mentioned.

Now the focus turns to the U of A.  Who is perfect for their job?  Not as richly steeped in tradition as the other ‘Cats, this brand of feline feels they’re the updated model of Kentucky, i.e. they are to basketball now, what Kentucky used to be. 

Names?  To start, how about Rick Pitino?  He’s about the age people move to Arizona and there might not be enough room in one state for those two.  Jamie Dixon?  West Coast guy, who could bring a toughness to the Pac-10 that his former boss, Ben Howland, did to the team formerly known as the University of California for Low Achievers.  It didn’t take Ben long to get to the Final Four.  U of A has been (in fact, won it all in 1997) to several Final Fours and Pitt can’t lay claim to that figure.

How about Mark Few - or Jay Wright.  Those two guys are probably where they ought to be.  Remember Jimmy V’s quote from two days ago?  “Don’t mess with happy.”  It seems like these guys are very happy but, then again, so did Calipari at Memphis.  But, as successful as Cal’s been, you have that sneaking suspicion that he adheres to Somerset Maugham’s quote:

It’s a funny thing about life; if you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it.”Â

A coach can only do so much and unless you’re a veteran with a long-term deal or a Hall-of-Famer, you’d better have the kind of charisma that captivates everyone in a room, no matter the setting.  Former coaches John Wooden, Al McGuire, John Thompson and Bob Knight immediately come to mind.  Current coaches with that type of scent, beyond the obvious Mike Krzyzewski and Roy Williams, are Tom Izzo, Rick Pitino, Paul Hewitt, Gary Williams, John Thompson III, Bill Self and Ben Howland.

Independent of whether a coach is in this kind favorable situation is less important than what each of them, and all their other colleagues face, and that is to find a team leader -either a spokesman, like a rah-rah guy or the silent type, better known in the coaching world as the “leader by example” - the player who will outwork everybody else.  Which is better depends on the personality of the coach, but even more so, on the make up of the squad.  Are the others, especially the young bucks, impressed with a teammate chirping - be it backing up confident trash talking (if such a thing exists) or with positive support when one of the youngsters is struggling or is it the case where the best player (or at least one of the best) on the club is, far and away, the hardest worker?

Talent is, and always will be, paramount to a team’s success but leadership is, and always will be, the most important intangible to winning.  I was part of a staff where we had one of the two best leaders I’d ever been around - in both the outgoing and all-out hustle categories - and I experienced, arguably, the best season in my 30-year career as an assistant.  Then, he graduated and we made a horrendous recruiting mistake, replacing him with someone who was as close to his antithesis as possible.  The program suffered, never regaining the same heights we’d had during that magical season. 

While the newcomer wasn’t the sole reason for the downfall, the following quote sums up the problem he had with the team - and, more importantly - the coaches had with him:

“Leadership is the art of getting others to do something you’re convinced  should be done.”

When I mentioned in my 8/5 blog that George Raveling, to my knowledge, was the creator of the “mastermind group” idea, I received countless emails requesting a blog about that subject.  I’ve done about 400 blogs to date (so much for those who doubted a “commitment”) and George is mentioned in at least 15 of them.  That’s why I thought the creation of the mastermind group could wait, but I either peaked the curiosity of the readers or George has a real fan club (headed by Dan, a major Villanova hoops fan).  Who knows?  Maybe it was both.  In any case, on with the mastermind story.

My feeling always has been that people couldn’t teach themselves how to coach, i.e. coaching was an inherent skill - you either had it or you didn’t; you either knew the game and had the ability to get it across to a group or you couldn’t.  Over the years, I’ve said many, many times that George Raveling proved me wrong.

As the faithful readers know very well by now, George got the Washington State head basketball coaching job in 1972.  I know he was one of the nation’s first black head coaches (the late Will Robinson, who got the Illinois State job in 1970 was the first) and I’m quite certain Rav was the first on the West Coast.  George had been an unbelievably successful recruiter at his alma mater, Villanova (hence the VU Hoops connection), and subsequently, for Lefty Driesell at Maryland.

However, at the time of his appointment at WSU, the big man’s head coaching experience was limited to leading the 1971-72 UM freshman team (at that time, freshmen were ineligible for varsity competition - a rule the “powers-that-be” will never reinstate, but if they really were sincere about increasing graduation rates, would be a major first step - hey, what d’ya know, another future blog topic) to an undefeated season and a team which destroyed their competition by an average margin of something like 30 ppg.  Footnote: The #2 ranked frosh team that year was Bill Walton’s UCLA squad.

George’s idea toward coaching was simple: get the best talent (a belief shared by his mentor, Driesell).  That fit nicely with his other philosophy: outwork anyone and everyone with a work ethic pushing the limits of human capability (a thought also shared by the “Lefthander”).  What hurt - badly - was that the NCAA rules during that era allowed for an unlimited number of scholarships (a pretty big clue no one took Title IX very seriously, since ‘72 is the year that piece of legislation was passed).

Rav and his staff, of which I was a graduate assistant from 1973-75, worked longer hours than you’d believe if I told you, but were thwarted by 1) being in Pullman (hundreds of miles from nearly any Division-I prospect) and 2) being in a conference where, if we could get a youngster interested, could be outdone by one phone call from the Wizard of Westwood - or anyone on his staff.  John Wooden coached until 1976, so George’s first three years produced a total a total of 24 victories.  The fact that many of the other teams in the Pac-8 (the Arizona schools had yet to join the conference) were coached by future Hall-of Famers was the third reason for so many L’s.  It became apparent a change was mandatory.

What to do?  George decided going to coaching clinics was a good first step, but it seemed that, at each clinic, there were only two speakers who had topics that interested him - and one of those would invariably cancel.  Rav, no wallflower, would imediately approach the speaker he admired and ask to sit down and expand on what he’d just shared.  After hearing a couple of times, “I’d love to George, but I have a plane to catch.  Hey, why don’t you plan on coming out to our campus and stay a couple of days?  I really want to hear your camp ideas and how you organize recruiting,” it got him to thinking.  “Everyone wants to hear about my camps and recruiting oragnization.  Why don’t I take advantage of that strength?”

He, then, made a list of four or five coaches he really thought highly of regarding their technical knowledge of various aspects of basketball (and whom he knew well enough that they’d agree with his newly developed plan) and get them to get together somewhere, simultaneously, to exchange ideas.  Since, from 1973-77, George had a dominating center, a marvelously talented kid from Chicago named Steve Puidokas - a 6′11″, 260 lb scoring giant (who, by the way, tragically died way too early in life), followed closely by 7′2″ James Donaldson and 6′11″ Stuart House, he sought out a coach who was reknowned for teaching post play and how to get the ball inside.  And so on with whatever other parts of the game he wanted to fully understand.

At this time in coaching, the clinic business was thriving, headed by the Medalist company.  But there was one catch.  The bottom line of the coaching clinic business was all about…the bottom line.  Every one of them was all about making money.  George’s scheme was to have a group of five or six coaches speaking on topics they were each experts…but with one caveat: it was to be an exclusive club.  There would be no admission charge because there would no admission.  No one else was invited! 

The early list of coaches would shock many - mainly because, while all were highly successful, few were household names.  George was looking to soak up knowledge, not to impress anybody.  I can’t remember exactly who made up the original group or who was added soon thereafter, but among those attending were: Glenn Wilkes of Stetson (who, to this day, remains one of George’s closest friends), Sonny Smith of Auburn, Murray Arnold of Tennessee-Chattanooga, Gary Colson of New Mexico and Bill Foster of Clemson.  These basketball minds would speak on their expertise.  Naturally, George’s topics were camp and recruiting organization.  There was one main rule: no secrets.  Full access to anything and everything in each other’s minds and files.  Note: There are entirely too many coaches who think they actually invented something, only to have it pointed out to them the same (or a close facsimile) idea was employed 30 years ago. 

After a few years, guest speakers were brought in to enlighten the group on such “non-basketball” information as financial planning and how to write contracts.  Then, there came a period of time when each member of the group knew each of the other’s philosophy so well, they felt any one of them could step in and run the other’s program.  At this point, they agreed each coach could invite another into the group, thus doubling the size of the “club.”  It’s how legendary NBA assistant, currently with the Chicago Bulls, Del Harris, gained membership.  To my knowledge, the group still meets occasionally.

Since then, many other groups like this one were organized.  Larry Shyatt, currently one of Billy Donovan’s assistants at two-time National Champion Florida and Scott Duncan, who now reports to Ben Howland at UCLA, were both on Colson’s New Mexico staff and wondered why, after a couple years of seeing how their boss’ membership in the “Raveling Group” had paid off in wins for the Lobos, called me while I was an assistant at Tennessee and asked what I thought of us starting a similar “think tank” for assistants.  I belonged from the outset (around 1981) until back injuries forced me from coaching a few years ago. 

That’s how I can say, from an up close and personal view, the idea, whether initiated by George Raveling or someone else, was absolutely brilliant.  It’s in use in most every major industry today and shows:

“When you light another’s candle, you lose none of your own.  You simply make evrything brighter.”        Â