Jack’s Blog

Each one of the hundreds of players who competed in Las Vegas last weekend has dreams of moving on to continue their career in college.  Whether they get to play where they want - or if they get to put on a college uniform at all - likely depends on what college coaches saw when they were evaluating.  The operative word here is saw.  Being seen is mandatory. 

For the top tier players, they got a taste of the recruiting process well before they were contacted by any institution of higher learning.  The war to obtain the services of the upper echelon high school star can be worse than the recruitment he faces from the colleges - and that’s mainly because the colleges are under NCAA rules, which are infinitely more strict than those summer league coaches, shoe reps, or “runners” for sports agents have to adhere to.  If there are any at all! 

Players are wooed by “organizations” with all the (legal) perks - flown to and from practices (those they’re was required to attend) since the hometowns of many are located too far away to make driving impractical.  Obviously, they’re was flown to events (from their hometowns) if they aren’t with the team when it departs to compete in tournaments all across the nation.  The swag that goes along with participation is all top notch - however many pairs of shoes are needed, gear in the form of uniforms, t-shirts, sweat suits, shooting shirts, any accoutrements (sleeves, braces, compression shorts, etc.) and, on several occasions, even meals.  Naturally, hotel accommodations were booked at no charge.

To my knowledge, there is no NCAA regulation against any of this - although the folks in Indy don’t in any way endorse this practice and would like it all to miraculously disappear.  Their biggest fears are the precedents that are being set and the expectations kids at a very impressionable age think they’re entitled to.

I happened to learn of one such player whose father was quite pleased with the attention his son was getting, but became somewhat disillusioned when the insanity known as the “evaluation period” for NCAA coaches began.  He was quoted as saying that his son enjoyed the experience (hey, red carpet treatment is something all of us would love to try - even once) but, according to this dad, the organizers “were guys who always wanted more.  Each tournament we go to, two new guys show up.”  When people are given lavish gifts, there has to be some ulterior motive behind it.  If you’re lucky, it has to do with winning.  It could deal with control.

What complicates matters - and is behind the, as Pat Riley used to call it - “The Disease of More,” is, down deep, these kids don’t care about winning (except in the instances where a loss eliminates the team from further competition).  What they want - and understandably so - is an opportunity to showcase their individual talents.  They know that college coaches aren’t recruiting their team, but whichever individuals impress them enough to offer a scholarship (let’s leave “beyond a scholarship” for another blog).  In case you’ve never seen this brand of basketball, it’s rife with selfishness - and, due to the nature of it, it’s tough to blame the kids. 

As far as selecting which group to play for, high school kids need to understand the following line (which I read somewhere, many years ago):

“Remember, when you sell your soul to the devil, the devil owns it.”      Â

In the week prior to the AAU extravaganza in Las Vegas, Alex’s team played in a smaller event in Southern California.  During one of the camp games, his teammate and one of his closest friends had a career game - if that can be said of a 17-year-old.

During this session, our guys were on different teams, so Alex got a chance to watch his buddy put on an offensive show.  Although a good shooter, in this particular game, the youngster went off!  He had 26 at halftime and wound up with 39 for the game - including eleven 3’s!  Possibly the best part of the story was that his performance happened to come at a game that the University of Washington’s head coach, Lorenzo Romar, was in attendance.  If he wasn’t known before the game, Alex’s running mate sure opened some eyes that night.

I had left the event at the conclusion of the tournament (this was a camp at the same site) but our older son, Andy, had driven up from Orange County (he’ll be a senior at UC-Irvine next year) where he has a summer job.  This meant I got dual accounts of this phenomenal performance.

What I found most remarkable was that, when the team got to Vegas, this kid (as nice a young man as you’ll ever meet, with two of the greatest parents) had morphed into a completely different player.  His confidence level had skyrocketed.  He started looking for his shot.  Not that he was timid before his breakout game, but he now played the game like he owned it.  

He was always a solid contributor (he and Alex have played on the same AAU team for 4-5 years), but was never considered the “go-to guy.”  He was now!  As the games came and went, he looked to be more assertive.  There’s no question in my mind that the game in which he went for 39 changed his outlook on his capabilities. 

Kids, even at this level, are confident but often, it’s a false bravado.  They’ve been told by their coaches, parents, brothers or others in their camp how good they are and then they go out to try to prove it.  But when a player actually does it - when he has a game that he’ll never forget - it often inserts a shot of true confidence because, as Satchel Paige once said:

“It ain’t braggin’ if you kin do it.”  Â

Finally out of that intense Las Vegas heat and back to Fresno - where, just to remind us of the fun we had in Sin City, the thermometer is well over 100.

Younger son, Alex, and the undermanned AAU team of kids from Central Cali (Organized Chaos), represented the Valley well, going undefeated (3-0) in their pool and winning two games in the “Championship” bracket (including a 77-51 trouncing of D-1 Sports of NC, led by Quincy Miller, rated by most as the #2 rising senior prospect in the nation) before dropping a two-point decision to Urban DFW in a contest in which OC led most of the way.

Other than getting a chance for my wife and I to watch our son and agonize over every missed shot and turnover, cheer every basket and assist and “help” the officials (some parents more than others - they know who they are), the trip gave me a chance to catch up with some old coaching friends I haven’t seen in a decade or longer.  NCAA rules preclude coaches from talking to parents of prospects at such an event but, because I have what’s referred to as a “pre-existing relationship” with so many of these guys, I enjoyed speaking, without fear of them getting in trouble, with many of the coaches whose profession I used to call my own.  Heck, I’ve known these guys a whole lot longer than I’ve known my son!

To paint a picture of what last Wed-Mon was like, there were three or four tournaments in Las Vegas involving high school prospects.  The one our kids played in (the adidas Super 64) had 40 pools of 4 teams in each pool.  160 teams!  Following pool play, teams were placed in “championship,” “gold,” “silver” or “bronze” divisions, depending on their record against the other three teams in their respective pool.  Then, single elimination tournaments began.  The other events were similar, although their numbers weren’t quite so high, more like 30-60 teams. 

One day, I received a call from a friend and former colleague who I had actually helped get into the business.  He’s currently an assistant coach at a school in a league that would be referred to as mid-major.  He called while travelling from one of the 20 or so sites.  The pace is hectic, as coaching staffs try to see (and be seen by) as many of their “top-line” prospects as they can, evaluate those players they’ve heard about or received interest from (but have yet to see play) and, especially in the case of low-to-mid-majors, maybe find an as yet unknown player whom they’d have a shot at successfully recruiting.

This coach remarked to me that he was fully aware his job was to get players, players who, in coaching parlance, “could play,” i.e. make their team better, win more games and get his team into the NCAA tournament - or get fired.  For the most part, that’s the prevailing attitude that exists in Division I now.  Why?

I posted a blog on 11/28/07 entitled The Biggest Problem in College Basketball Today.  My number one answer?  Colleges are paying coaches too much money.  Whether you agree or not, the blog is well worth reading and I suggest you check it out, keeping in mind I wrote it nearly three years ago.  The game - and profession - have progressed but, often, with progress comes problems.  Or in the case of today’s college basketball scene, increased pressure.  While what Gonzaga has done, i.e. seeing them in a Top 10 poll is no longer shocking, is remarkable, the presidents and athletics directors of the other seven teams in the WCC (Gonzaga’s conference) adopt a feeling of “If they can do it, why can’t we?” 

The WCC is a league of eight church-schools, six in California and the University of Portland, in addition to the Zags, so resources would seem to have been relatively equal throughout the league when Gonzaga began its ascent.  Don’t think the prez’s and AD’s don’t have egos.  When their counterparts from Gonzaga walk into WCC meetings, the “have-nots” begin to wonder, “Why not us?”  Changing the coach often becomes the answer.  So, while my friend’s statement about “get players or else” might have seemed a little dramatic, it’s become reality.

Yet, coaches love their profession.  Some for different reasons than others, but working long hours - and many days on the road - is just part of the job.  Consumed is the word that’s used when the coaching profession is discussed.  As a sort of personal experiment, I asked my friend if he knew who Shirley Sherrod was.  Although hers was the lead story in nearly every paper in the nation, he told me he didn’t.  In fact, when he called, he was in the car with an assistant coach from a high-major program (BCS) and he asked him if he knew about Shirley Sherrod.  Same response. 

I am not including this story to disparage nor criticize my friend and his associate.  It’s mentioned because, when I was an assistant (between 1972-2002), I wouldn’t have known about a front-page story like Shirley Sherrod either.  I don’t mean to infer that every coach on the Division I level is ignorant of the Shirley Sherrod story.  It’s just that, because of the consuming aspect of the job, there’s a feeling that nothing else matters other than what you ought to be doing to make your team better and advance your career (or keep from derailing it).  In addition, you get the (absurd) feeling that while you’re reading about that A-1 story, you could be calling a prospect or seeing another game.

My late, brilliant mentor, John Savage, used to say there were some people at opposite ends of the spectrum.  Most coaches were the latter in his statement:

“Some people are a mile wide and an inch deep, while others are an inch wide and a mile deep.”Â

Last Sunday, my wife, our son, Alex, and I traveled about an hour to attend a barbeque for the summer team Alex played on.  These guys played in a few local tournaments and even a couple in Southern California, but, as spring turned to summer, they started to get to know each other better (there were three guys from one high school team on this travel squad, otherwise, no team had more than two representatives).  They started beating teams that, on the surface, looked better than our guys.  It became commonplace.

When the coach got a welcome benefactor (one of his former players who was playing professionally overseas donated money so the team could raise the level of competition), the club seemed to gain a confidence they hadn’t previously displayed.  The grand finale for most travel teams are the (numerous) tournaments held in Las Vegas.

Our guys lost the first game of “pool play” to a team from New York (when Alex called home after the game, the first thing he mentioned was that the opponents had three guys in a row - in warmups - windmill dunk).  Right then, I knew that game was over.  I wonder when it is that players stop being impressed with how high guy can jump - with nobody guarding him!  There’s a story in my book, Life’s A Joke, that tells how, about an hour before a big game, one of our guys was standing under the basket, and asking our guys to watch him jump and tell him how close to the rim his head got (legend has it he was probably within a couple inches).  Then the game started and this kid got NO (0) - zero - rebounds.  Alex’s travel team played well (according to one of the parents who made the trip and called me after the game), but they lost 81-67.

And, then, somehow, they never lost again.  Two wins in pool play sent them to the “Gold” bracket, one step below Platinum, where their pool would be represented by those whirling dervishes from NYC.  Once Gold bracket play began, it was lights out for the guys from Central Cali.  Teams from Louisiana, Nebraska, Nevada, Washington, other parts of California, the boys took on all comers and knocked them off, one by one.

It’s been about six weeks and, lo and behold, I got an email inviting us to an end-of-the-year barbeque.  These are more fun than the games - mainly because there’s no angst (unless you forget to bring the dessert you signed up for - and even then, when you get to the party, there’s enough dessert for the whole neighborhood).  In addition, there are no referees.  I have nothing against refs (I’ve often said that of the three things that are vital to a game, i.e. players, coaches and referees, that the refs make the fewest mistakes).  It’s just anytime you see that black & white striped shirt, it seems everyone stops smiling.

The event will always take place at one of the players’ homes - and it will always be a home that puts yours to shame.  And the parents who are hosting it always do a better job than you would if you were crazy enough to even consider taking such a mammoth effort.  This one was no exception.  Absolutely gorgeous house, backyard - complete with pool (naturally, waterfalls - with an “s”) and spa, the most comfortable patio furniture ever made and great food and beverages -in abundance.

But the best part is watching the kids interact, especially those knowing they will be competing with each other during the high school season.  They have these types of affairs for every team that gets together, but this one was interesting to me because the team achieved some accomplishments I don’t think they (coaches included) ever thought they could.  There was a bond between the players and, thinking back to the first local tourney in which they competed, it was a bond that strengthened as the “season” progressed.

We’ve become such a competitive society (occasionally, rules be damned along the way), that the social aspect of the boys’ development is often overlooked.  But when the wrap-up barbeque occurs, it brings to mind what Bertrand Russell said:

“The most valuable things in life are not measured in monetary terms.  The really important things are not houses and lands, stocks and bonds, automobiles and real estate, but friendships, trust, confidence, empathy, mercy, love and faith.”

Our younger son, Alex, finished out his summer basketball competition by playing with an AAU travel team composed of kids from the San Joaquin Valley.  Usually, when basketball aficionados talk about the highly talented travel teams from California, they’re speaking of teams from either the Los Angeles or Oakland areas.  But the group of guys put together by Chris Stahowski of San Joaquin Memorial (Fresno) HS represented themselves - and the state of CA - magnificently.

They called themselves Organized Chaos and competed in tourneys locally, in the Bay Area and in Long Beach before the finale in the mecca of summer hoops, Las Vegas.  Anyone who’s ever read this blog undoubtedly knows of the back problems I’ve encountered the past two decades (plus).  They just don’t seem to want to stop and the latest episode precluded me from making the Vegas trip, which at first didn’t bother me since it’s as hot in Sin City as it is in Fresno.  In addition, I don’t gamble and am not much for shows (or sitting for long periods of time for anything) and since our guys played one game/day for the first three days, that’s an awful lot of down time away from the comforts of home.

Through Alex, and even moreso one of the fathers of another of the players, I got updates when the games concluded.  The first one ended 81-67 with our guys on the wrong end.  As soon as I heard the opponents, a team from New York, had three guys windmill dunking in warmups, I knew how high school age kids can get psychologically overwhelmed at such a display.  “OC” hung tough, but with only seven players on the trip (two more would join them in a couple days), the squad wore down and ultimately went down.  It was the last time all tournament they would lose.

Going 2-1 in their “pool,” placed them in the Gold Bracket, not the top (Platinum), but only one shy - and in a group with plenty of talent.  Teams from Nevada, California, Washington, Louisiana, Arizona, Nebraska and I’m sure I’m missing somebody else all tasted defeat at the hands of the Central Cali boys, some of the contests blowouts, most not.  As the guys kept winning, I found myself getting more and more anxious to find out how they fared.  Being at the games, as I have for both our sons (not as much Andy because I was coaching - either on the college or high school level - when he was playing), it’s nerve-wracking - which is why I’ll correct math tests or do a sudoku during the game. Anything to keep from getting overly involved as I see altogether too many parents do, making fools of themselves by (mainly) screaming at the officials.  When I coached, I frowned on that behavior, not because I didn’t want the parents to look bad.  They’re grown people (most of them) and can act however they desire.  What bothered me was the message it sent to the kids.  You didn’t play poorly or make mistakes, it was the officials who caused the team to lose, giving the kids exactly what the parents (truly) wanted - and I, as coach, reviled - a false sense of self-aggrandizement. 

What was more disturbing were the kids on the team who knew they hadn’t played well and were actually embarrassed by their parent’(s’) juvenile behavior.  That’s not easy to tell parents - and I never did.  Number one, I didn’t think it was my place, secondly, they wouldn’t have believed me and finally, it wouldn’t have changed anything.

So it was (partially) because of this (threat of) asinine behavior I chose to forego attending this tournament.  My back was really the reason and, to be honest, had I known how they were going to play - and how frazzled I’d be waiting to hear the latest result - I probably would have made the (brutal, 6-hour) trip.  It’s special to see your son, as a member of a team, win a championship.  Rather than experiencing the joy of seeing the Gold Division Champs, I settled for talking to Alex after each game, about each game, and then, giving fatherly advise on things outside basketball (”sure a $25 all-day, all-you-can-eat pass at one of the hotels sounds good, but what if you’re with one of your buddies who didn’t get one of those passes and wants to go to McD’s?” - he got it anyway, or “don’t fall for those cheap knock-offs you find on every corner” - he’s the proud owner of some sweet $10 sunglasses).

As Harry S Truman, someone who most likely wouldn’t have pulled any punches with referees (if he and Bess had boys who played), once said:  

“I have found the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and then advise them to do it.”

“The film doesn’t lie.”  I can’t tell you how many times my coaches said that to me during my teens.

After watching our younger son, Alex, and (first) his high school team and (then) travel team play the past week, a couple weaknesses were blatantly apparent.  When the conversation in our van (this past weekend) turned to the games, guys had various other reasons for lackluster play or results.  Of course, ineptness of officials was at the top of the list (they were bad, but not to the point they were the deciding factor in any of the games’ outcomes).  There were some other basketball related issues too.

One of the guys asked me what I thought since they all know I was a former coach at several colleges - and was the high school coach at the school they’re competing for - albeit four years ago.  So, I become Judge Judy & was the final word on all disputes - as long as I agreed with whoever asked me).  I mentioned I was in the middle of writing up a class curriculum for an upcoming class (more on that in upcoming blogs) and I’d come to the conclusion that the number one defensive skill necessary for a team to be successful at that end of the floor is to be able to keep the ballhandler in front of you.

Inability to perform that one basic, but extremely difficult, defensive technique, breaks the entire defense down, causing help, rotation and changes in defensive assignments.  It also leads to giving up offensive rebounds (the best way to score - because, as I used to tell the kids in the Theory of Coaching Basketball class I taught at Fresno State, “There’s no defense for an offense rebound.”)  Blocking out will decrease the number of offensive boards a team gets, but that’s done prior to the offensive rebound and my statement deals with once the opponent already has the missed shot.

Disagreement from my passengers, and  good deal of it loud, ensued.  I was stunned!  Didn’t these kids know what had happened in the game they just finished playing?  That’s when I realized, that although a coach can spend too much time in video sessions, it’s the only sure-fire method to show the culprits - with no debate necessary nor possible.

Independent of what level someone coaches, they desperately need video.  If there’s no evidence that video provides, there aren’t but a handful of coaches I’ve ever known who would get the players to accept their criticism.  If it means fund raising, do it.  If it means cutting down practice time, do it.  If it means burning CD’s for each kid so they can watch it on their own portable DVD players, do it.  With today’s massive egos in basketball (the trickle down effect has made it all the way to the junior high levels), irrefutable evidence is what’s needed.  If the coach doesn’t have actual footage of what he’s trying to get across, it becomes infinitely more difficult to correct the technical error. 

I’ve mentioned the problem of doting parents who never want their child to hear any criticism, even if it means other players need be sacrificed in the conversation.  That’s for the high school level on down, but at the higher levels, don’t think somebody isn’t in the individual player’s ear in the succeeding levels of play.

That’s why you turn on the video, sit back, point out what you want him/them to see (reminding him/them you can run back the footage if need be) and, if someone still disputes your claim, you’re dealing with the two killer S’s: stubborn and stupid.  Video’s undoubtedly the greatest teacher and certainly supports my old boss, Jerry Tarkanian’s philosophy regarding the overworked phrase: help-side defense. 

“If you can guard the ball, you don’t NEED to have any help.” 

Ever wonder why his team’s played such good defense? Â

Just got back from The Bay Area and a high school summer basketball tournament.  I apologize to readers who came to this site the past two days or nights looking for new posts.  The faithful among you know that, when I’m out of town, I alert you to that fact prior to my leaving so you don’t waste your time.  This apology does, however, allow me the opportunity to inform you that I will be heading south (to Long Beach) later today for a “travel team” tournament. 

This news may cause some of you to express a concern that scholastic summer basketball might be getting out of hand - and, if you are one who feels that way, I could have some groundbreaking news that I will be part of - if, in fact, it comes into being.  I should know within a week or so and, if it does, the readers of this blog will be the first to know, giving you the ability to scoop all your peers at the water cooler or wherever news of this nature is passed. 

My absence from this site should be only one day, if all goes as planned.  So, look forward to a new blog Wednesday, Thursday at the latest.

OK, this post will put all the referee bashing to rest once and for all (or at least until one of those jokers makes a crucial call, costing our favorite team - or favorite bank account - to come up on the short end).  Summer tournaments are held for the express purpose to give teams a chance to improve.  The travel forces the boys to be in the same car/van for hours on end (this doesn’t take into account the big-time summer programs, where the hours of air travel has the same effect on team chemistry). 

First, from a coach’s standpoint, he (let’s leave the females out of this discussion as they don’t seem to have screwed up their side of the equation . . . yet) is looking to evaluate some incoming or upcoming talent, maybe trying to put in a new offensive or defensive philosophy (or maybe just a new wrinkle), experimenting with players at different positions or different units (e.g. does our best defensive five, comprised of total shut-down defenders, have enough - or any - firepower to allow us to keep them in for significant amounts of time - or will they simply keep the score the same for as many minutes as they’re in the game)? 

Accruing technical fouls does not mean - as some coaches want others (and themselves) to believe - that their competitive spirit is as strong as it’s ever been.  What, in reality, it shows is that they continue to display their lack of understanding of what a good coach is - a leader of a team, to be respected because, independent of adverse situations, he can illustrate that, in fact, he can rise above any adversity and instill confidence that his team is prepared to deal with whatever is handed to them - even if the ultimate outcome is a loss . . . because no one knows or cares what your team’s summer record is (although some of you, no doubt, can quote it, day by day, week by week, tourney by tourney).  

As for the players, this ought to be their time to shine - to show that they and their game have grown and matured, that all they’ve been practicing, they actually can put to use in a 5 on 5 situation,  that the weaknesses the coaches mentioned to them at the end of the season are improving, even if only gradually and that they can handle their new, upgraded role (starter from sub, varsity from JV, scoring option from non-threat, etc.).

Now, let’s take a look at the parents.  Can they (OK, we) show we understand our purpose in being there (supporter for our son and his team and, just as importantly, someone who can attend a game and not embarrass the poor kid).  An ancillary segment of the parental role is - can we, when we’re with our sons, and possibly his teammates, away from the coaching staff, offer constructive criticism, not covering for his mistakes and/or lack of skill (the latter of which was most likely an inherited trait) - and not blaming the coaches, referees or other players (naturally, those who aren’t present)?

Now, for the referees.  They’re doing this in the summer.  If it’s for the money (usually $20-25/game), then take pity on the poor souls.  They could, if they really hustled, probably make as much collecting bottles and cans to be recycled.  Most of them are doing a minimum of four games/day.  The truly serious ones, of which there are entirely too few, are trying to improve their craft.  I say entirely too few because there are still too many refs who react to coaches, players and fans (aka parents) when they work a game.  They need to focus on what their job is - to officiate the most difficult game in the world to officiate.  It takes complete concentration - and how sharp can someone be when he (or in this case, possibly, she) is doing his or her fourth game in a row!  If coaches, players and spectators can’t come to grips with that, then the official - as the game’s ultimate authority - needs to recognize it and just ref the game! 

Weaknesses need to be worked on here too - one main one being “rabbit ears.”  Referees should never hear, or let on that they heard, what’s being said in the stands, regardless of whom it’s directed to.  They’re going to miss a few (as noted before, it’s a nearly impossible game to ref and you’re on your third, fourth or, maybe, more, game of the day - after having done the same number the previous day - it’s usually hotter than all get-out and mental and physical fatigue are bound to set in).  They need to admit it.  If their ego is such that they can’t admit they missed one, that is, quite possibly, the major reason why they’re still doing these games instead of taking some time off to rejunvenate, so they’re ready to collect the $250 & up per game, plus expenses, the good ones get at the collegiate level or if they’re not sure they got it right - and refuse to ask their partner(s) for help (which has to happen a few times a game), they will remain the source of ridicule by the coaches in the game (which is why they are not at the next level) or the jackasses watching - and complaining - mainly because their kid’s performance is so inept, they want to deflect people’s thinking from the action on the floor.  Usually, this has somewhat the effect the parent hoped, in that the other people in attendance don’t think he’s as bad a player as much as they feel sorry for the boy that his parent is such a fool.

The worst trait an official can have (other than bad judgment, which he can’t do anything about) is arrogance.  Putting on that shirt only means you’re the referee.  To show you’re the boss by wielding your power, refusing to acknowledge legitimate concerns coaches and players may have, makes it obvious that, like Samson’s hair, once it’s removed, you ain’t nobody, Sam. 

In all levels, keep in mind the following quote on accountability:

“It’s easier to move from failure to success than from excuses to success.”

We’re headed up to Rocklin (near Sacramento) for a basketball tournament, so no blog tomorrow night, although I already have one in mind for Sunday night you definitely won’t want to miss.

California rules (that a coach can work with his team year round) and summer basketball has turned high school hoops into a 12 month ordeal.  Many coaches (not only basketball) actually force their athletes into making a decision when they get to the high school level: it’s my sport only or don’t bother showing up.

If the athlete’s good enough, i.e. if he (and his parents) are in the position of power, they can call the coach’s bluff.  More times than not, I’ve seen the coach back down, making the (wise) decision that part of a great player is better than none of him (truthfully, the reality of this situation is that this type of behavior is not at all limited to the male side of the equation).  Especially when a coach of a female powerhouse, who’s looked up to by the community (including the district administration, who are way more interested in championships than they’ll ever admit), is the one giving the ultimatums.

It might be as veiled a statement as, “Well, if you really want to play in our program, you need to make a total commitment” (which, left unsaid - or not - means playing that sport all the time).

I have to admit that what was most attractive to me about coaching on the high school level was the fact that a coach could work year round with the guys.  After working in college basketball, in which the NCAA continually cut back the time coaches were allowed to work with their squads (be it individual instruction or team practice), getting together whenever I desired sounded like nirvana.

One reason was I had prepared myself for thirty years to be a Division I head coach (independent of the level of D-I) and had organized everything from the pregame warm up routine and man-to-man offense, complemented by a multiple defense system to home and school recruiting visits and organizing a booster club (notice I mentioned “independent of the level” of D-I).  Because this was going to be a little more sophisticated a system than the typical high school program,  I needed that on-court time. 

Never, though, did I plan on threatening a boy to play only basketball.  One major reason is that I thought it would be highly hypocritical - since I played three sports (football, basketball and baseball) during my four year scholastic career.  Truth be told, basketball was my worst sport (of those three).  In fact, while coaching at Buchanan (Clovis, CA) High School, nearly all of us were on the same page when it came to sharing our athletes, mainly for the same reason I felt, i.e. they played more than one sport during their high school days.

That leads me to our younger son, Alex.  He plays basketball exclusively.  In elementary school, he was, I was told by one of his teachers, the only kid in the school who participated in every sport that was offered throughout his 4th, 5th and 6th grade years.  In 4th, it was cross country and wrestling (football and basketball weren’t allowed until 5th), in 5th he was the defensive MVP of the football team (ILB), captain of the basketball team and played volleyball.  He was over the weight limit for football in 6th (you needed to be 121 - including pads - and Alex checked into 6th grade at 143, so he barely missed the cut . . . so he became the team’s manager).  He once again played basketball, but with his buddies from the grade ahead of him (most of the kids in our neighborhood were now in the 7th grade) in junior high school, he decided he was going to forego volleyball and pick up baseball again (he’d played Little League but, although he started at third base - as one of only two 8-year old starters, he said the only thing he liked about America’s pasttime was that you were allowed to eat sunflower seeds during the game).  After baseball concluded, he came home and told me he was going out for the track team.  I thought it was a good idea, that all the running would keep him in shape.  When I asked him what he was going to do, he told me, “High jump.”  Of course, he had never high jumped, but once the coach showed him the technique, he wound up taking second in one of the final meets of the year.  Once in junior high, and back with his buddies again, after basketball season, he took up tennis (his best friend was an outstanding tennis player and for two weeks a year, he’d attend his friend’s dad’s tennis camp.  That was the extent of his tennis.  Still, he ended up as #2 singles and went undefeated throughout the season.  He hasn’t played tennis since.

Those of you who are still reading this rambling discourse (after reading a paper I turned in one time, my high school English teacher asked me if I was from Babylon) might be wondering if there’s a point.  If there is, it’s this.

Although Alex plays basketball only, to be quite honest, part of me would love to see him play football (along with baseball, my two best sports).  My wife doesn’t put up too much of a fight in instances like this.  But, in the case of football, she’s seen me and the problems I’ve had (the first question doctors asked me, prior to the first of my eight back surgeries - two weeks after we got married was, “Were you ever in a car accident?”  The next question was if I ever played football).  And it’s not only me.  Jane’s dad was quite the football player himself (as well as a state championship scholastic coach in Nashville, TN - where they take their FB seriously) and during his later years, the arthritis he developed (his doctor told him it was due to old football injuries) made it painful to watch him attempt to get up from our couch.

The capper came with Son #1.  Andy is the ultimate team guy.  In 2nd grade he told me a new kid had just moved in and they became fast friends.  That kid was Zak Hill, the youngest of three sons of Fresno State’s new football coach, Pat Hill.  Naturally, it was decided early on that, when they got the 5th grade, they’d be two of the stalwarts on the Valley Oak elementary school football team.  Jane was worried and shared her concerns with our family doctor - who just happened to be the Bulldogs’ team doctor.  He told Jane to let Andy play until 9th grade when they did away with weight limits.  Jane thinks the world of our doc, so she agreed - until the day that Andy separated his shoulder in a blocking drill and had to have surgery of his own - at 13 years of age.  End of football in the Fertig household.

In addition, Alex is that rare athlete who just might be better served to concentrate on one sport.  He has a future in basketball.  Not that he’s going to be doing it for a living, but, with natural maturation of his body (he was measured and weighed at the Nike event in St. Louis at 6′2″ and 188) and mind, he ought to be able to parlay that skill into a free college education.  And with parents in their (very, very) early 60’s, that’s quite a comforting thought. 

I have tried to strike a balance between the coach who sees a gift a young boy has and encourages him to go for it and a father who’s interfering with his son’s life and pushes too hard.  It’s a fine line, but so far, Alex has shown a genuine enthusiasm for basketball.  With my obsession that people realize their potential, there is much more I’d do to get Alex to be better, but not if I feel it’s going to have a negative impact on his “being a kid.”  It’s not easy, but when SI prints a story like the one they did a few issues ago on Todd Marinovich, backing off gets easier and easier. 

I continue to use a quote by one of my favorite authors (and judging by how well - and how many of - his books sell, hundreds of others’ favorite author too), John C. Maxwell:

“If you want your life to be a fantastic story, realize you’re the author.”Â

Since I posted on the blog prior to our leaving for St. Louis the reason we were going, i.e. that our son, Alex, was invited to the NIKE Hoops Jamboree for the Top 100 freshmen and sophomore high school basketball players in the nation, many people have inquired during the past couple days how he performed.

His coach, Norm Persin (an extremely successful high school coach whose ‘08-’09 squad won the State Championship in Ohio) and Vince Baldwin (Director of Scouting for Nike Elite Youth Basketball) each described Alex’s play at the four day event as “solid.”  To the cynic, that may sound like a nice way of telling the kid’s dad that he didn’t suck, but since I know both of those guys, they were aware there was no need to sugarcoat their response.  I already knew spectacular or incredible weren’t words that I would have expected anyone to attach to Alex’s game.

After recruiting Division I college players for three decades, I have a pretty good handle on evaluating potential ballplayers (although if you read the story in my book, Life’s A Joke of the scouting report an NBA coach had asked me to do on John Stockton, you might take issue with that statement).  So, armed with all this experience, solid is the word I’d have used to summarize his play in St. Louis.  Ask anyone who’s ever worked with, or coached, Alex and, to a man, they’ll say the strength of his game is “understanding how to game,” i.e. “making the right play.” 

He does have skills, e.g. shooting, extremely good hand-eye coordination, ballhandling, passing, understanding defensive principles (proper stance, anticipating the next pass, where to be depending on where the ball is, etc.) and overall team play.  Does that sound like a father?  I have to admit I heard that description of many a prospect during my time in D-I hoops and, quite often, the father was a tad prejudiced in his son’s favor.  I’ve tried to separate father from coach, but I doubt I’m as neutral observer as I think I am.

Overall, as my former boss, current mentor and friend (as well as the Director of International Basketball for Nike), George Raveling, said to me, after watching Alex play, “It was a great experience for him.  He can use this as a barometer to work on his improvement.”  As I’ve tended to do often, although not always, I fully agree with George on that assessment.  Alex found out that there are a lot of really outstanding players in his age group (15-16).  He’d known it before, having played for Team Georgia Elite in AAU competition but I don’t think he’s ever seen as many truly talented players all in one gym at the same time.

The facilities were incredible.  The event was run entirely on the campus of St. Louis University.  Their new rec center was where the guys played, they stayed in a dorm on campus and ate three squares meals in a campus facility.  Obviously, Nike put their best foot forward to impress the impressionable, so the kids were treated extremely well.  However, they were expected to be on time and exposed to some leadership training to show them that, even at an event such as a so-called “all-star camp,” there’s more to their lives than just playing the game.

In the upper echelon of the camp, there were several truly gifted players.  I wasn’t there to evaluate talent, just follow my son from game to game, but it was impossible not to take notice of the size, speed, quickness, jumping ability and overall athleticism of youngsters, many of whom aren’t old enough to have a driver’s license.  Each team had a player 6′11″ or bigger and all of the ten-men squads had an exceptionally quick guard, yet the position that was in abundance was the super athletic, leaping wing man.  Other than shot attempts, the number one stat in the camp had to be offensive rebounds.  Few players, if any, blocked out and everybody’s dream (who could) wanted to follow up slam dunk a teammate’s miss.  There were more dunks than in an average college game because 1) there was no real interest in blocking out, 2) everyone was looking to block shots, so 3) defensive rotation (which you’d normally see in an organized college contest) wasn’t present and guys had running, unimpeded head starts.

Still and all, there were some extremely competitive games and an observer could get a feel for how players performed under pressure - especially during the final evening when games were shortened to three minutes and started with the score tied.  In this situation, it was easy to tell which kids understood the value of each possession and which ones played the same as they did in the other games.  Some very talented players have a long way to go, considering where they claim they’re planning on attending college.  Too many of these guys wouldn’t change the way they play if they had a frontal lobotomy.

As with any parent, I was proud of the way my son played.  He didn’t try to do what he couldn’t do (something that’s very tempting when kids see what others their age can do, e.g taking bad shots), knocked down open jumpers (although not as consistently as he needed to at this level, i.e. on his other teams - where he’s option #1 or #2 and it’s not as crucial if he misses three or four shots, because he, and his coach, know he’ll string four or five in a row later on), made the right pass (fed the post when his 7-foot African center had his man pinned or when any of the other guys had mismatches, used bounce passes at the end of a break, as opposed to “falling in love with the lob pass” for the spectacular dunk they see on TV, but turning it over more times than not and ruining an easy scoring opportunity, took defenders off the dribble and allowed the situation to determine whether he was going to pull up or take it all the way to the basket, was usually in a defensive stance and didn’t get too discouraged when he’d get beaten by a super quick guard, handled himself well (blended in with the other guys, something I’ve noticed he has a real knack for, when he would play with other teams in which he didn’t know anybody) and was a credit to his high school, his family (beside my wife and me, his older brother, Andy, and two aunts, Peggy and Susan, made the trip to St. Lou) and himself.

Lessons learned were 1) how to be a complementary player when not everyone can be a star, 2) there are better players than he is so, while hard work got him to this level, even more is necessary to move up to that truly elite status and 3) that he belonged - while there were times he was overmatched quickness-wise, those players were blowing by everybody in camp and that intelligence - shot fakes, understanding proper defensive rotation and offensive technique - can be used effectively against anyone - so what coaches have been teaching (and preaching) for years is worth knowing, and . . . attitude can be the determining factor in how coaches (yours and opposing) view you as a player. 

As any reader of this blog - or simply of my website - can imagine, my two sons are constantly bombarded with quotes (no, I don’t just use them in speeches and blogs).  My hope is that Alex (and Andy, for that matter) learn what was said about Muhammed Ali:

“Champions don’t become champions in the ring.  They’re merely recognized there.  To be a champion, you must be willing to pay the price on a daily basis.”

First, as the number 6 seed, Syracuse had to play the winner of the 11 seed (Seton Hall) vs. the 14 seed (South Florida) in the headliner game of the Big East Tournament, meaning it didn’t start until 9:00 pm (Eastern Time) on Wednesday.  The ‘Cuse won handily, 89-74.  The game the next night, against UConn, also with a 9:00 pm starting time, made its way into the memory banks of all who saw it, especially those who stayed to the bitter end (in person or watching on television) and saw a game end at 1:22 am (EST) and have a record 102 overtime points!  Years from now, there will be hundreds of thousands of people who will have claimed to watch the six overtime contest in person.

The Orangemen probably caught a break earlier in the evening when 7th seeded West Virginia upset the 2nd seed, Pitt, and not just because the higher seeded team lost, but because, while any Bob Huggins-coached outfit is a physical team, Pitt (led by man-child DeJuan Blair) hangs their hat on physically overpowering opponents - at both ends of the floor.  If there was one thing the Big Orange did not need after an emotional 70 minute pressure-packed marathon that didn’t end until 1:22 am, it was a team with the style Pitt employs. 

The team they drew (WVU) was certainly no cupcake and, the 70-minute game from the night before really favored the Mountaineers.  What could the Big Orange players possibly think when this game, as well, was tied at the end of regulation.  They simply thought, “Bring it on - all we’re talking about is basketball.  As kids, we’d play from morning until night time” (or until the 6 o’clock church bells would chime and we’d all scramble to get home for dinner).  As WVU’s assistant coach, Billy Hahn, said after the game, “They’ve been playing four AAU games a day during the summer.  They’re used to it.”  AAU contests don’t have quite the significance nor intensity, but Hahn’s point is a good one.

After all, it was only fitting that the next game would go into overtime - a clear advantage for WVU - or was it?  Syracuse is undefeated in all four OT games it’s played this season.  And since they were playing at their second favorite venue, Madison Square Garden, (the Carrier Dome still has to be their favorite, but year after year, it’s getting harder to tell), they no doubt felt the game was definitely theirs for the taking.  And the Orangemen took it.  Local superhero, Jonny Flynn, after resting for 3 of the 70 minutes during the night before’s tilt, made up for all that inactivity when he manned up and played all 45 minutes against WVU! 

After returning to the team hotel at 2:30 am (following the UConn game), he had a little something to eat (and a lot of something to drink).  Flynn, then stayed up until 6:00 am watching highlights on ESPN (ah, the joys of youth).  Many of the fans weren’t ready to go full tilt the following night, yet still, were able to muster up enough strength when they saw something (a poor substitution pattern - according to them - a “why did he (not) call time out?” or a “what kind of play was that to run, the ball needs to be in the hands of Flynn/Devendorf/”whoever would have made it” - after someone else missed).  What commitment!

A major blemish in the game was just before halftime.  WVU had scored with around four seconds to go and the Syracuse inbounder pulled a move that is used often in practice and pick up games, i.e. games without referees.  He never really got totally out of bounds before inbounding.  The referee, who was standing not three feet from the play never looked (pretty much, his only job in that situation) at whether the ball was legally inbounded (it clearly was not) and Eric Devendorf heaved up a 55 foot throw - which, of course, went in.  Three points for the “home” team that should never have been posted on the scoreboard.  Was that the difference in the game - a game that went into overtime?  We’ll never know.

What we do know is that, although every law of anatomy and physiology says the Orangemen should not have had enough in the tank to beat a good West Virginia team, somehow, someway, somewhere those guys dug deep and pulled one out for dear old SU.  Thomas Jefferson would be proud of Syracuse’s success because he was known for saying:

“The more you do, the more you can do.”