Jack’s Blog

It’s that time of year when high school basketball tournaments abound and the Buchanan Bears are in, believe it or not, their fourth of the season.  Due to a quirk in scheduling (a team dropped out late and the Bears were off during the dates of the tourney), the tourney director requested an exemption to let BHS sub at the last minute, and it was granted. 

Usually, teams are only allowed three such tournaments (counting as only one “contest” toward their allowable number of total games), but this year, the stars must have been aligned properly.  So, it’s off to play another four-game ordeal, causing yet an interruption in the blogging.  I’ll be back New Year’s Eve with more riveting insight into the world of sports - and whatever else pops into my head from time to time.

Look for my article in the next issue of HiS magazine (on New Year’s resolutions) and, rather than make any resolutions yourselves, take the advice a friend of mine (with an obvious dark side):

“Live every day as though it was your last - and one day, you’ll be right!”

Many times during athletic endeavors, one team (or individual) will win and a commentator or writer will make the claim “they wanted it more.”  Do they?  Or is it just the winning team (or individual) played or executed better than its opponent - or, possibly, the losing side just wasn’t as good?

That had always been my feeling until I watched the Lakers-Cavs game on Xmas Day.  After reading and hearing comments made by the Laker players, e.g. they were used to playing on Christmas, their kids didn’t mind because of the number and quality of toys they got, etc., I was curious to watch the game.  In my mind (a sentiment echoed by many others), the two best teams in the NBA are the Lakers & the Celtics.  Following the thrashing the Celts gave the Magic in Orlando (minus Paul Pierce), I settled in to check out the other team the majority of the sports world believes will be in the NBA Finals.

It did seem like the Lakers prepared for the game like they would any other NBA regular season game.  They came out and took a (brief) early lead, but then their game, especially at the defensive end, was very un-Laker-like.  At the same time (naturally, it was the same game), the Cavs played, to my mind - and the scoreboard’s - like they were taking the contest a little more seriously, playing with a greater sense of purpose.  Like they were trying to tell the basketball nation that there was another entry into the NBA Sweepstakes.

Whether they “tried harder” or were “more focused,” it’s difficult to say.  But one of the most shocking scenes occurred at the end of the game.  Fans at the Staples Center (keep in mind, these are Laker fans, not those of the Clippers) jeered the home team (who gives them a win nearly every time out) and some made their feelings known by throwing various items onto the floor.  It was almost like they were making a statement, “We came here on Xmas Day, giving up our traditional celebration” (whatever that may be) “and that’s the effort you give us?”

In other words, the fans made a point, that if we’re going to sacrifice, give us something to cause us to feel like it was worthwhile - and to fans, that means a W-I-N.

I never thought I’d say this, but if someone asked me why I thought the Cavs won yesterday, my answer would be:

“They wanted it more.”

This holiday season has been the most difficult I can remember when it comes to buying gifts.  Actually, buying them isn’t that bad; it’s paying for them that’s the killer!  Since neither my wife nor I got caught up in layoffs, downsizing, RIFs or forced furloughs, I guess we ought to be thankful.  It did remind me of a “Holiday Season past” though.  On 12/22/07, I wrote a blog about something that happened a long, long time ago.  It’s well worth reading.

The exact day I can’t recall, but I know it was this time of the year approximately 10 years ago that my mother shared a story with me she’d kept to herself for about 40 years.  We were discussing gift giving during the holiday season.

Growing up Jewish, we thought we had a pretty good thing going in that Hanukkah was celebrated over eight days - and kids got a present each day.  I was telling her how there are kids today who would wonder why they were being punished because they only got eight gifts - independent of their religion - or if they even celebrate any holiday.  

Today, the goal of many parents seems to be to make sure our kids have it better than we did.  One example is the house we’re currently living in is easily the nicest house I’ve ever lived in to date.  My childhood house had one bathroom and the fact we now have three gives me at least a minor feeling of success.  The one thing I worry about as a parent is the question of “When does it get to be too much?”   Many people I know, as well as many I don’t, discuss this topic and have come to the conclusion that today’s generation is “softer” than ours (which I happen to agree with).  Then again, I used to hear the same thing from my father - about how much tougher he had it than my generation did (which also happened to be true).

My father was a toll collector on the New Jersey Turnpike right up until the day he died in 1976.  My mom was a secretary at City Hall (actually, the town I lived in was so small, it was called “Borough” Hall).  I recall my father calling home, excited that someone called in sick and he’d be able to work a “double shift” (sitting in a toll booth for 16 hours) and get time and a half.  Which is why there was never an excess of money flowing in our household - although we were classified (correctly, I believe) as middle class.

The story my mother finally told me was when I was around ten years old and my brother, Steven, was five, the family budget was stretched pretty thin.  Still, my parents wanted to keep up the Hanukkah tradition of “a present each night.”  They’d hide the presents and my brother and I would frantically search for our gift.

Because of the financial condition during that one particular year, my mother told me that on one of the nights, all my parents could afford was one Hershey bar a piece for my brother and me.  At that time, a Hershey bar cost five cents.  All those years, it had bothered my mom that all each of us got was a nickel candy bar.  I thought for a while and then told her something that shocked both of us - and it was the honest-to-goodness truth.  After racking my brain, thinking of every gift I ever got for Hanukkah, the only one I could remember was that piece of chocolate and how absolutely thrilled I was to get it.  Back then, I really loved Hershey bars (now that I know things like nutritional value, grams of sugar and what all that can do to your body - from teeth to stomach, I’ve cut way down on that particular food group - although not nearly as much as I ought to). 

We laughed and my mother said she wondered why she used to spend all that time trying to find gifts for me (a trait that was inherited from her by her daughter-in-law).  I suggested to my wife that we get our boys one of their favorite candy bars and years from now see if that’s the one memory they can recall.  Although by then, it will be too late to return the X Box 360, I-phones and all the other expensive “stuff” that takes up our family room at this time of every holiday season.

It only reinforces what I heard some time back and sincerely believe is true:

“If you focus on what you have, you’ll always have more.  If you focus on what you don’t have, you’ll never have enough.”

Merry Christmas to all!

Buchanan won the Palma HS basketball tournament by beating the hosts, giving the Bears its second tournament championship in a week - and a lifetime (or at least since the school was built 19 years ago).

Our younger son, Alex, again made the all-tournament team and, once again, his buddy and senior backcourt mate, Jackson Carbajal, was named the MVP of the tourney.  How can it get any better for our family? 

Number one son, Andy, came home last night (fresh off of a quarter of all A’s at the University of California-Irvine, not exactly a slouch school), going directly to Buchanan to pick up his little bro, before the Fertig boys showed up, in unison, asking, “What’s for dinner?”  Luckily, mom had the foresight to prepare the favorite staple around these parts: spaghetti and meat sauce.

Basketball’s great, winning is really nice, being named to the top 5 of an eight-team tournament is special, but nothing beats having the family together for the holidays.  After having read all these “success” stories about kids leaving college early for the NFL and instant riches, but not before the youngster having to overcome the classic dead beat dad, i.e. impregnate the girl (usually a teenager), then bolt, never to pay a drop of child support and then, show up (or not), once your “son” makes good, or kids who make it big in college, while the dad proudly, and religiously, watches his boy - from his jail cell, and knowing that for every one of those stories, there are hundreds (thousands?) of similar ones without “happy” endings, makes a parent so thankful that, at least so far, the offspring have lived normal lives. 

It’s getting to be in this country that our family feels the need to apologize for what ought to be a common theme.  It’s corny, yet unfortunately true, to quote Ann Widdecombe:

“I think we have lost sight of  something of importance, something which has always been at the heart of Conservatism which is the family - functioning as a family unit with legal rights and responsibilities and being able to make its choices and let its children grow strong.” �

This past weekend was a triumphant one for the Buchanan Bears as they won three straight games in the Rockin (CA) Tournament and walked away with the Championship trophy.  To my memory, this might be the first boys’ basketball championship in the school’s 19-year history.  The reason I believe that’s correct is, prior to our current coach, I served as the boys’ basketball coach at Buchanan.  I don’t know whether the coach prior to me (the first and only one Buchanan had before my arrival) won any championships (I do recall the expectations being awfully low during the interview process), but I can assure you that in my three-year tenure, we never even were runners-up.

As a parent, having the opportunity to watch my kids participate is a real joy.  To watch them win and play well (Alex made the All-Tournament team) brings such a sense of joy that I felt like yelling, “That’s my boy!”

Warning: Under no circumstances, even if your child breaks the tournament record for scoring, rebounding and assists - in a championship game and for the Tournament - should you ever do more than cheer - and no louder than any of the other parents.  Drawing any undue attention to yourself will not cause your offspring to say, “That’s my dad!”

Should you ever get a text from your player/child when you’re in the same vicinity, it means money is needed - independent of whether you gave him the suggested $25/day meal money.  An actual phone call (you remember, the way we used to communicate with each other) means money is needed - NOW!

Deep down, you know your son (that’s the only point of reference I have) is happy to have you there supporting him (for more than just the money), but as Dave Barry said:

“To an adolescent, there is nothing in the world more embarrassing than a parent.”

P.S. Leaving today for still another basketball tournament, this one in Salinas, CA.  Blogs should return Christmas Eve.�

it means I must be off to watch the Buchanan Bears in a basketball tournament.  This one’s in Rocklin (near Sacramento).  The guys won last night, so they play in the championship side of the bracket at 6:30 pm.  That gives me enough time to leave school at 3:00 and make it for tipoff (approx. a two and a half hour drive). 

Blogs will return Monday.�

How in the world couldn’t they?

This was one of the subjects on Larry King Live last night.  Doug Ferguson, who wrote the article, said that, not only did Tiger Woods far outdistance the competition (he received 56 first place votes to 33 for runner-up Lance Armstrong), he built an early lead (ballots sent in prior to his car accident) and actually, expanded on the lead after the word of his admission of infidelity became public.  Kind of like the way he (used to) play golf.  Get an early lead and pull away from the rest of the field.

Also on the program were former PGA player, Brandel Chamblee and LPGA Hall-of-Famer, Amy Alcott.  Each of them echoed the view of Ferguson, who said (if not he, then Larry King), “After all, it wasn’t Husband of the Decade” or “Person of the Decade.”  Kudos to these folks being able to separate what the award is from what the person receiving it is (or has become in the public’s eyes).  Too often, we, as a society, are ready (as has been mentioned in this space numerous times previously) to “strengthen the weak by weakening the strong.”  What he did privately in no way diminishes the dominance he had in his sport for the past ten years.

If any other athlete had been chosen (mainly because over the past decade, no one has come close to being as superior to the competition in his or her sport), the award, and the recipient, would have been an embarrassment.  Isn’t Tiger an embarrassment, you say?  Of course, but not as a golfer - and certainly not for the past ten years!

What his next move is no one, maybe not even Tiger himself, knows.  But I think everyone is in agreement that, at some time (and that exact date is wide open for debate), he will return to the PGA Tour.  

What can we expect?  It was interesting to hear the two former pros discuss this possibility.  Chamblee said he found it incredibly amazing that, given the alleged length of time of Tiger’s dalliances, that he could remain so focused - that he had to realize what was going on in his life - and that it could explode at the drop of a name or text or email.  Alcott made the point that, because golf takes so much discipline, many golfers seek going “inside the ropes,” as she put it, to find sanctuary from the outside world.  There, great golfers can (must) block out everything else if they plan on playing their best - which in Tiger Woods’ case, means winning.

So everyone agrees he’ll be back.  The golf courses, however, won’t pose nearly as much of a challenge as the post match press conferences.  Whenever Tiger’s emergence occurs, extreme mental toughness will rule the day/weekend/year.

And if what Vince Lombardi said about mental toughness is true, Tiger Woods has a very tough road in front of him:

“Mental toughness is many things and rather difficult to explain.  Its qualities are sacrifice and self-denial.  Also, most importantly, it is combined with a perfectly disciplined will that refuses to give in.  It’s a state of mind - you could call it character in action.”  �

On last night’s Lakers-Bulls telecast, they showed the “retired jersey” of Phil Jackson in the rafters at the United Center.  As always is the case, mention was made of Phil winning all those rings but . . . how he always had great players.  First, Michael & Scottie, then Shaq & Kobe and then Kobe and the cast of characters from last year’s team (with the emphasis on Kobe). 

It seems Phil Jackson’s championships can’t be mentioned without someone bringing up the “Yeah, but he had great players” line.  While it is true, there have been many coaches with great players who have failed to win championships - at all levels (remember the Phi Slamma Jamma Houston Cougars of Guy Lewis)?  It takes more than just great players.  And the way championships are won differ with the different personalities of the coaches who lead those talented squads.

There’s Phil and his Zen approach.  Imagine getting NBA players to understand Zen, much less embrace it?  There was a story of how he tried it on one of his early championship Bulls’ teams.  He told the guys to sit quietly and close their eyes.  The legend goes that a few (or more) of the players peeked - and saw Michael Jordan sitting with his eyes closed - and that sealed the deal.  Moral: Get your best player to buy into your philosophy and the others fall right into line.

Doc Rivers coached a team put together by Danny Ainge (with help from his best friend, Kevin McHale) which initially had perennial all-star, but perennial also ran (as far as his team went), Paul Pierce.  Ainge added Ray Allen, one of the best shooters in NBA history (and in case you haven’t noticed, scoring is more important in basketball than any other team sport) and superstar, but also mired on a mediocre team, Kevin Garnett.

Doc knew he had an abundance of talent, but none of these guys had ever won.  He came up with the rallying cry/mantra, “Ubuntu” which (some thought meant “Help me, I’m in my contract year”), but actually, according to none other than Nelson Mandela, meant a concept made up of traits like unselfishness, caring and enabling others.  They rode it to a championship, to the point that when many of the Celtics were asked what their championship secret was, they claimed, “Ubuntu.”  That’s buying in.

Speaking of the Celtics, Red Auerbach had his run of championship after championship.  Bill Russell wound up with more rings than fingers.  What Red did was clever.  He made everybody else hate him, thus taking all the pressure off his guys.  It’s not like he had a bunch of slouches, but the shenanigans he pulled at the old Boston Garden (dead spots in the floor, turning up the heat in the visitor’s locker room, no hot water, and the piece de resistance - the victory cigar).  Plus, he did subtle things, like going to Big Russ and telling him not to pay attention when he yelled at him in practice, but if the rest of the players saw Russell getting an earful, they’d have no right to complain when Red jumped their cases.

The master of massaging egos (and in the NBA, there’s no shortage of that commodity) was the late Chuck Daly.  He took a team and gave it an image.  The “Bad Boys” aka the Detroit Pistons won back-to-back championships with nasty (dirty?) Bill Laimbeer; tough guy Rick Mahorn; bordering on lunatic, Dennis Rodman; if-you-need-a-score, call-me, Vinny Johnson; classy Joe Dumars (how did someone so respected, with so much class become a - vital - part of this team?) and Mr. Hidden Agenda, Isiah Thomas. 

I was working at the University of Toledo (less than an hour from Detroit) during those championship years and a little known fact is that the Pistons’ owner, Bill Davidson, made his early (and big) money in glass - and Toledo was known as the Glass Capital of the World.  We’d get choice seats (Mr. Davidson’s own - right behind the basket at the Pistons end of the floor) because there were many people in Toledo who were quite friendly with Mr. D. 

One of his confidantes told me a story that was not allowed to be leaked (so how did I find out)?  Mr. Davidson was so fond of Thomas that he pledged to him a million dollar bonus if the team won a championship.  Imagine what that kind of dissent that would have caused if it got out.

That’s how good Chuck Daly was.  Because he knew and, yet, had the ability to mold this apparent group of misfits into not one, but two championship teams.  His main strength was that he possessed so little ego.  Winning was his goal and he focused on working individually with each player on the team. 

Many people have said he knew how to handle players, but as Wilt Chamberlain told his new coach, Alex Hannum, when the coach said to the Big Dipper, “I heard you’re hard to handle.”

“You don’t handle people.  You handle animals,” said the player who caused more rule changes than any other in the history of the game.  Talk about making a statement early in a relationship.

When it comes to winning championships, sure, great players are needed, but as the late & great coach Chuck Daly (coach of the Original Dream Team - talk about egos!) said:

“It’s harder to take a group of really talented players and make them a championship team than it is to take a group of average guys and make them competitive.” 

  �

Every coach believes he or she will be a big winner - they may even believe there will be a National Championship somewhere down the line.  If asked how long before they reach that type of success, the realistic coach will say, “a few years as an assistant, a head coach at a smaller school” (followed with instant and mega success), “then onto the big-time, and after a brief period, a championship of some sorts” - conference, NCAA tournament appearance, Final Four or, (if they’re honest) a National Championship.  Total elapsed time: 10-15 years, max.

Consider the case of Mark Edwards, the 62-year-old head coach of Division III Washington University in St. Louis, his alma mater.  Mark’s coaching career started in 1970 in the military in Fort Sam Houston, but, after his honorable discharge in 1972, he decided to become a graduate assistant to his college coach, Bob Greenwood, who had moved on to Washington State University.  After only a few months, Greenwood was dismissed as head coach and Mark was stuck in Pullman.

George Raveling became the new head man of the Cougars for the 1972-73 season and felt it would be a good idea to have someone on his staff who knew the landscape.  Ask George today and he’ll tell you it might have been the best move of his entire coaching career.  My association with Mark began the following season when I joined the staff as a GA.  We’ve stayed very close ever since.

Mark had a terrific career at Wash U (which happens to be one of the top academic institutions in the nation).  In fact, up until just a couple years ago, he was still the leading rebounder in the school’s history.  However, shortly after his graduation, the Bears dropped the men’s basketball program.  When the administration decided, in 1981, to resurrect its men’s basketball program, they turned to only one candidate.  Mark, after a ten years in the prestigious Pac-10, along with all the perks a big-time school offers, gladly accepted the challenge.

And it was a challenge.  I recall the conversation we had when I asked him if he was crazy.  “You’re going to leave Division I?”  By then, Mark had endured the losing seasons in Pullman and the Cougs had been going to the NCAA tournament.  “To start a D-III program?“  Mark confided in me that the day he got to campus, he found out just how difficult the job was going to be.

“Manny” (a nickname he gave me the day he saw me), “there’s not even a basketball here - anywhere!“  In case you don’t know, at the Division III level, a coach is not allowed to contact a recruit - unless the recruit contacts him first.  How was Mark supposed to recruit?  No one even knew they had a basketball team!

But the love and pride he had for his alma mater rose above all.  Not that it translated into immediate success.  Mark’s first three teams posted records of 3-16 (1981-82), followed by 6-20 and 8-18.  Still, he stayed the course.  He knew he was coaching at one of the premier academic schools in the country (there’s never any talk of graduation rates it’s simply 100%, i.e. every one of his players graduate), he loved where he & his wife, Mary, were living, he knew he could relate to kids and he knew hoops.

Fast forward to today.  Washington University is ranked as the #1 D-III team in the US, sporting a perfect 7-0 record.  Oh yeah, they’re coming off back-to-back National Championships.  The year prior to their first one (2006-07), they lost in the semi-finals, meaning Wash U has been to three straight Division III Final Fours - or as Mark puts it, “Everyone in our program, except the freshmen, have ended each season in the Final Four.”  The records from ‘06-’07 are 25-5, 25-6 and 29-2.

This guy, Mark Edwards, who spent nearly 40 years - forty freakin’ years - toiling as a graduate assistant, assistant and head coach of a first-year program is now basking in the glory of success - more than he, or any coach, would have ever imagined.

There is no greater example of James Whitcomb Riley’s quotation on persistence than the story of Mark Edwards:

“The most essential factor is persistence - the determination never to allow your energy or enthusiasm to be dampened by the discouragement that must inevitably come.”

         �

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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