If money were no object, there is one element Brad Stevens would add to Butler's basketball program. Not an opulent practice facility. Nor a university jet to transport the Bulldogs to road games.
"I'd probably create a statistics division," the coach said.
Analytics have gained widespread acceptance in many areas of business, and Stevens, a self-described stats geek, has been at the forefront of the movement in college basketball. Stevens, who graduated from DePauw University with an economics degree, uses numbers as a tool to prepare the Bulldogs for games and evaluate their development.
That data analysis is one reason Stevens, 35, led Butler to back-to-back NCAA championship games.
"Almost everyone uses some of this," said Sam Hinkie, an executive vice president of the NBA's Houston Rockets. "He does embrace this in a way that differs from most."
Butler, which opens its fifth season under Stevens on Saturday at Evansville, has drawn comparisons to the Oakland A's of "Moneyball," and Stevens has been likened to A's general manager Billy Beane. Bobby Fong, the former Butler president and a longtime baseball fan, made such an analogy nearly three years ago -- before it was trendy and Brad Pitt starred in the movie.
"What struck me even three years ago, in college basketball, defense was undervalued," said Fong, now the president at Ursinus College (Pa.). "There was an emphasis on defense first in the Butler system."
The A's of Moneyball used unconventional data to locate players who were undervalued and thus lower-priced during a four-year playoff run from 2000-03.
The Butler parallel is not precise because it uses statistics largely to prepare for opponents, not for player transactions. Indeed, Stevens suggested Butler might be the anti-Moneyball in recruiting because it does not rely on high school statistics. The only high school numbers that merit attention, he said, are 3-point and free throw percentage.
The Moneyball analogy is applicable in that the Bulldogs search for undervalued skills or prospects. While some programs recruit athletes as if they're trying to win track and field medals, Butler identifies those who fit its system.
But if there is a way to quantify anything in basketball, Stevens uses the data.
"You're so competitive that you just want to find any little thing that might give your guys an advantage out on the floor," he said. "And it's the way I'm built and driven. I really did enjoy the book 'Moneyball' when it first came out. I read it right away."
kenpom.com
Stevens is guarded about some details of Butler's analytics, not wanting to forewarn future opponents or disadvantage any active players. But there is no secret about where he starts opponent evaluation -- kenpom.com.
Ken Pomeroy, a meteorologist living in Salt Lake City, started a website in 2004 that introduced unconventional data to college basketball. Pomeroy assembles stats such as points per possession, percentage of offensive rebounds and ratio of 3-pointers to total shot attempts. Stevens examines kenpom for a snapshot of tendencies.
"He's obviously made my site more famous," said Pomeroy, who has never spoken to Stevens.
Kenpom is complemented by Synergy Sports Technology, a video scouting system that can isolate player tendencies. Stevens said he wants film to validate what stats are indicating. Ninety-nine percent of the time, he said, they coincide.
"Data can bridge that gap between the scout and the dozens and dozens of games he didn't get to see," the Rockets' Hinkie said.
Statistics are misleading if the wrong ones are studied. Stevens said season stats won't reveal the right information if one player, for instance, has been hot in recent games or if the team has changed the way it plays.
Stevens also charts what he calls "typical scoring." In other words, he might not change defense against a hot-shooting opponent, thinking, "The law of averages may just kick in here."
A scouting report also can't prevent the inevitable. During Stevens' first season on staff, 2000-01, Butler determined what the preferences were for 6-8 power forward Michael Wright of Arizona. But Wright still overpowered the Bulldogs inside and shot 10-of-12 in two games.
"He buried us so deep, it didn't matter what his preference was," Stevens said. "He was just going to lay it over the rim."
Moreover, a detailed scouting report is meaningless if it is too complex to absorb. More than anything, Stevens said, players must be able to carry out a game plan.
"It's not what we know. It's what they know," he said.
Details
One of the reasons Butler players have approached NCAA Tournament games with such confidence is trust in the game plan. Stevens has often told them what would happen in a game . . . and players have watched action unfold exactly as he described.
"There's no one in the country who pays closer attention to the details than him," senior guard Ronald Nored said.
Stevens has motivated the Bulldogs by producing statistics showing they're not as bad as critics might claim. Or the coach has demonstrated how a small statistical improvement -- like two fewer field goals per game by an opponent -- would result in a big difference.
Sophomore forward Khyle Marshall said "too much at once" is hard to process but that "bits and pieces" are not.
"As it just expands and expands, it's something we have in our minds," he said.
Stevens focuses on details because Butler rarely wins via blowout. His favorite example is from the 2008-09 season: If Butler's 13 victories by three or fewer possessions had been defeats, the record would have been 13-19 instead of 26-6.
The Bulldogs sputtered in each of the past two seasons before putting together 25- and 14-game winning streaks. To Stevens, a team is constantly evolving. The Bulldogs won't be as good in November as in February or March, he said.
"I like that. I like getting better," he said.
At Butler, it has all added up.
Butler basketball coach Brad Stevens studies advanced statistics to give his team an edge, similar to the Oakland Athletics and general manager Bill Beane as chronicled in the book and movie "Moneyball." Here are some examples:
-Old Dominion, the Bulldogs' March 17 opponent in the NCAA Tournament, led the nation by rebounding 45 percent of its own missed shots. Stevens called it as "staggering a number" as he had ever seen. Keeping Old Dominion off the boards became an emphasis for Butler, which led 32-29 in rebounding and won 60-58. "Butler cares about defensive rebounding," Houston Rockets executive Sam Hinkie said.
-Old Dominion guard Kent Bazemore drove to the right 75 percent of the time (even though he is left-handed), according to Synergy statistics. "If you say that somebody likes to go right, well, document that he likes to go right," Stevens said.
-In the 2010 NCAA Tournament, Butler players watched film of Syracuse guard Andy Rautins shoot open 3-pointers and vowed that he would not do so against them. Butler calculated that Rautins shot 80 percent of his attempts behind the arc and moved in one direction -- Stevens wouldn't say whether it was left or right -- 70 percent of the time. "That simple fact is hard to forget," Stevens said. After scoring 24 points in his previous game, Rautins had 14 as Butler upset the top-seeded Orange 63-59.
-For a poor offensive rebounding forward, Stevens said, "You're beating a dead horse if you say, 'Go to the glass, go to the glass.' " Instead, the coach said, show that he went to the boards three times out of 50. Either the forward is not in shape or not trying. "One more possession might mean winning the game," Stevens said.
-When players do conditioning drills in the fall, they are timed in four sprints. Stevens cares more about the difference between the first and fourth than in the average "because that shows how in shape you are," he said. Those who need more conditioning get that, and others concentrate on developing skills.
-Butler has 11 years' worth of data on what a typical All-Horizon League guard would score in conditioning tests. "So you try to motivate with those numbers," Stevens said.
-Matthew Graves, the Bulldogs' associate head coach, oversaw three years of workouts in which Matt Howard shot 25 to 50 3-pointers per session. It was all charted. "For two years, in individual workouts, we had the confidence and he had the confidence because we had the data to back that up," Graves said. Howard, who made five 3s in his first three years, sank 53 last season and shot 40 percent from the arc.
11.09.2011
10.28.2011
KELLEN MOORE
Let's get to the bottom of this. Kellen Moore has an ideal physique for a quarterback—if that quarterback competed in an adult flag football league. He's listed at a generous 6 feet. He's not very fast. "He runs a sub-five-second 40," says a teammate. "Let's leave it at that." Critics question his arm strength.
Yet this seemingly unremarkable 23-year-old, this laconic, shaggy-haired lefty from Prosser, Wash., is about to become the winningest quarterback in the history of major college football. If the fifth-ranked Broncos get past Air Force on Saturday, Moore will move into a tie with Colt McCoy, who led Texas to 45 victories from 2006 through '09. After a bye week, Moore will likely break the record at UNLV on Nov. 5.
Even by the prolific standard he has set in four seasons as a starter, Moore had a monster day in the Broncos' 63--13 dismantling of Colorado State last Saturday. In 2½ quarters of work, he completed 26 of 30 passes—including his first 18—for 338 yards and four touchdowns. Boise's 742 total yards set a school record and left the hosts sounding a bit stunned.
"What did he hit—18 in a row?" asked Steve Fairchild, the Rams' coach and former quarterback. "When I played, I couldn't have done that against air."
Moore's been doing it for four years. He's the nation's active career leader in pass efficiency (168.6) and completion percentage (69.3) and is second in passing yards (12,596) and touchdowns (120).
What's his special sauce?
"He's just a normal dude who happens to be a football guru," says senior tight end Kyle Efaw.
"It's crazy how smart he is about the game," says Logan Harrell, a defensive tackle at Fresno State. "It seems like he can get himself out of any situation and get the ball where it needs to be."
"He feels the game very well," says coach Chris Petersen, now 67--5 in his six seasons at Boise. "He anticipates better than any of the college guys I've been around. And there's nobody in college football who works the pocket like he does. He slides, he glides, he moves up. He just has a phenomenal feel for avoiding sacks." A tiny silver lining for the Rams: They put Moore down once—just the third sack he has taken in his last 283 passing attempts, going back to Boise's last defeat, a 34--31 overtime loss at Nevada last November.
The Wolf Pack's defensive coordinator, Andy Buh, learned a lesson in the first half of that game. "We tried to fool Kellen with some disguises, and none of 'em worked," he recalls. "It took us a half to realize we were trying to confuse the wrong guy, so we quit and started picking on some other people."
"He'll look right at a defender, and go elsewhere with the ball," marvels Broncos nickelback Hunter White. "He's throwing to another receiver while he's staring at you. Try reading that."
"Rare accuracy. Rare pocket presence. Rare production," says one NFL scout. "Unbelievable kid. He slows the game down. He has the it factor—whatever you want to call it—that everybody's looking for."
Note that, while no one uses the word, everyone is talking about Moore's brain.
"He's a cerebral guy with an amazing football intellect who's been doing this forever," says Broncos senior wideout Tyler Shoemaker. "He ran a similar offense for his dad in high school. So when he got here, he had an easy transition."
Tom Moore won 21 league championships and four state titles in 23 seasons at Prosser High before resigning in March 2009 so that he could watch his sons play. Kirby Moore is a 6'2" Broncos sophomore receiver whose 95 touchdown catches at Prosser set a national high school record.
"My dad always wanted to talk about the big picture when he taught players," says Kellen. "It was never just, 'You run a hitch route.' It was more like, 'You run a hitch, and here's why you're running it and how it complements this other route. Here's how this coverage works, and what are its strengths and weaknesses.' He didn't just want to teach you your assignment. He wanted to teach you football."
His eldest son was eager to learn.
He still looks boyish, with the easy grin and mop-top 'do, but Kellen Moore has taken some adult steps this year. In July he married Julie Wilson, a former Prosser High three-sport athlete and valedictorian. The two had been dating since she was a senior and Moore was a sophomore at Prosser.
Moore is also working on his master's in kinesiology. And this fall he's immersed in an independent study project with left tackle Nate Potter. They're steeping themselves in the subject of "what highly successful people do to become successful," says Moore.
Among the books he's read on this topic: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell and Talent Is Overrated by Geoff Colvin. Moore's preliminary conclusion: "There's no magic. A lot of times there's this misconception that people are just given this talent, that they never had to work hard to get where they are." Their common denominator, he says, is the willingness to submit to "that grueling, grinding, not-fun task, and to do it over and over. That's what successful people do."
He cites the 10,000-Hour Rule from Outliers, which holds that greatness requires the investment of massive amounts of time. Moore, it turns out, has been investing since at least the second grade. For show-and-tell, recalls Kris, he would draw a play on the whiteboard: "He'd tell the class, 'This is what the Prosser Mustangs are going to be running this week.'"
"He'd answer questions," adds Tom. "And he knew what he was talking about."
They recount a childhood that was custom-designed, it seems in retrospect, to turn him into a savant at reading defenses. Every day during football season he and Kirby would go from the elementary school to their dad's football practice, where they served as ball boys and mascots. By the time he was in sixth grade Kellen was doing drills with the varsity quarterbacks.
After games the coaches would gather at someone's house to watch film. Kellen tagged along. "He'd always have a little notepad with him," says Tom. "He was always drawing plays."
Kellen was a good-sized high school sophomore: 5'11", 155 pounds. "He grew fast," says Kris, with a wry smile, "and then he didn't grow again." That year he beat out a senior for the starting job. There was some muttering about nepotism, Tom recalls, until the season opener, when Kellen threw three touchdowns in a win over Mercer Island High, a much bigger school. "And that took care of that," says Tom.
In his final two seasons Kellen called his own plays. His father's only request was that he shout the audibles, "so I would know what was going on."
Kellen's junior year, the Mustangs took on nationally ranked Bellevue High. In Prosser's victory, Kellen threw six TDs—three of them to Kirby. A DVD of that game found its way into the hands of Justin Wilcox, who at the time was Boise's defensive coordinator. Wilcox became a lonely voice in the Broncos' football offices, advocating for Moore. I'm tellin' ya, this kid can PLAY!
Most college coaches who'd fallen in love with the quarterback they saw on film became strangely mute upon meeting him in person. "They'd stand up and shake his hand, and you could see it register," says Tom. While no one flat out told the Moores, "He's too short," they didn't have to. "They just never called back," Tom says.
Still, Moore had offers from Eastern Washington and Idaho, and things were looking up with Oregon State. Beavers coaches had invited him to work out for them to Corvallis. But when he got there, coach Mike Riley and quarterbacks coach Danny Langsdorf "took the 10 quarterbacks who were 6'3"," according to Tom.
Kellen and the other quarterbacks were instructed to go to another field, where "a couple of graduate assistants basically told them, 'You guys just sort of play catch,'" says Tom.
"That was a long drive home."
Not long after, they drove to Boise for another workout. Petersen remembers seeing Moore across the practice field and telling an assistant, "He's not that short."
"You're looking at his brother," the coach was told. "Kellen's the other guy."
The other guy, it turned out, fit in very well at Boise, a collection of overlooked, overachieving players. After redshirting his freshman season, Moore won the job coming out of fall camp in 2008. In his third start, his first on the road, he threw for 386 yards and three touchdowns in a 37--32 upset of No. 17 Oregon. The Broncos lost to TCU in that season's Poinsettia Bowl. They didn't lose again until that Nevada game last November, a string of 24 consecutive wins.
Taking their cue from Petersen, the Broncos are declining to answer questions about their chances of moving to the Big East or their chances of returning to a BCS bowl for the third time in six seasons. Moore, meanwhile, is withholding comment on what is shaping up as one of the most fascinating subplots of the 2012 NFL draft: Will he be picked, and if so, when?
ESPN draft analyst Mel Kiper Jr. says Moore is "at best, a late-round pick." The scout quoted earlier, a Moore fan, ticked off his two most commonly cited shortcomings: size and arm strength. On the subject of size, it wasn't so much Moore's height that concerned him as his lack of bulk. The scout wonders if the quarterback, at 191 pounds, can handle the pummeling he'd take in the league.
Moore's arm strength ("average to above-average") is ameliorated by his excellent, lightning-fast release, says the scout. "It comes out so quick, and he has such anticipation, instincts... . He'll get bigger and stronger, too."
And wiser. Asked if it annoyed him that some experts are already predicting that he'll flop in the NFL, Moore replied, "I really don't concern myself one bit. I think you learn quick enough you're not gonna make everyone happy. So there's no sense in trying."
All he needs is for one team to believe in him.
"We've heard that before," says Tom, who has memorized the sign in the Boise quarterbacks' meeting room, which is his son's second home. It says:
1) TOUGHNESS
2) PREPARATION
3) DECISION MAKING
4) ACCURACY
"Nothing in there about being 6'4."
Yet this seemingly unremarkable 23-year-old, this laconic, shaggy-haired lefty from Prosser, Wash., is about to become the winningest quarterback in the history of major college football. If the fifth-ranked Broncos get past Air Force on Saturday, Moore will move into a tie with Colt McCoy, who led Texas to 45 victories from 2006 through '09. After a bye week, Moore will likely break the record at UNLV on Nov. 5.
Even by the prolific standard he has set in four seasons as a starter, Moore had a monster day in the Broncos' 63--13 dismantling of Colorado State last Saturday. In 2½ quarters of work, he completed 26 of 30 passes—including his first 18—for 338 yards and four touchdowns. Boise's 742 total yards set a school record and left the hosts sounding a bit stunned.
"What did he hit—18 in a row?" asked Steve Fairchild, the Rams' coach and former quarterback. "When I played, I couldn't have done that against air."
Moore's been doing it for four years. He's the nation's active career leader in pass efficiency (168.6) and completion percentage (69.3) and is second in passing yards (12,596) and touchdowns (120).
What's his special sauce?
"He's just a normal dude who happens to be a football guru," says senior tight end Kyle Efaw.
"It's crazy how smart he is about the game," says Logan Harrell, a defensive tackle at Fresno State. "It seems like he can get himself out of any situation and get the ball where it needs to be."
"He feels the game very well," says coach Chris Petersen, now 67--5 in his six seasons at Boise. "He anticipates better than any of the college guys I've been around. And there's nobody in college football who works the pocket like he does. He slides, he glides, he moves up. He just has a phenomenal feel for avoiding sacks." A tiny silver lining for the Rams: They put Moore down once—just the third sack he has taken in his last 283 passing attempts, going back to Boise's last defeat, a 34--31 overtime loss at Nevada last November.
The Wolf Pack's defensive coordinator, Andy Buh, learned a lesson in the first half of that game. "We tried to fool Kellen with some disguises, and none of 'em worked," he recalls. "It took us a half to realize we were trying to confuse the wrong guy, so we quit and started picking on some other people."
"He'll look right at a defender, and go elsewhere with the ball," marvels Broncos nickelback Hunter White. "He's throwing to another receiver while he's staring at you. Try reading that."
"Rare accuracy. Rare pocket presence. Rare production," says one NFL scout. "Unbelievable kid. He slows the game down. He has the it factor—whatever you want to call it—that everybody's looking for."
Note that, while no one uses the word, everyone is talking about Moore's brain.
"He's a cerebral guy with an amazing football intellect who's been doing this forever," says Broncos senior wideout Tyler Shoemaker. "He ran a similar offense for his dad in high school. So when he got here, he had an easy transition."
Tom Moore won 21 league championships and four state titles in 23 seasons at Prosser High before resigning in March 2009 so that he could watch his sons play. Kirby Moore is a 6'2" Broncos sophomore receiver whose 95 touchdown catches at Prosser set a national high school record.
"My dad always wanted to talk about the big picture when he taught players," says Kellen. "It was never just, 'You run a hitch route.' It was more like, 'You run a hitch, and here's why you're running it and how it complements this other route. Here's how this coverage works, and what are its strengths and weaknesses.' He didn't just want to teach you your assignment. He wanted to teach you football."
His eldest son was eager to learn.
He still looks boyish, with the easy grin and mop-top 'do, but Kellen Moore has taken some adult steps this year. In July he married Julie Wilson, a former Prosser High three-sport athlete and valedictorian. The two had been dating since she was a senior and Moore was a sophomore at Prosser.
Moore is also working on his master's in kinesiology. And this fall he's immersed in an independent study project with left tackle Nate Potter. They're steeping themselves in the subject of "what highly successful people do to become successful," says Moore.
Among the books he's read on this topic: Outliers by Malcolm Gladwell and Talent Is Overrated by Geoff Colvin. Moore's preliminary conclusion: "There's no magic. A lot of times there's this misconception that people are just given this talent, that they never had to work hard to get where they are." Their common denominator, he says, is the willingness to submit to "that grueling, grinding, not-fun task, and to do it over and over. That's what successful people do."
He cites the 10,000-Hour Rule from Outliers, which holds that greatness requires the investment of massive amounts of time. Moore, it turns out, has been investing since at least the second grade. For show-and-tell, recalls Kris, he would draw a play on the whiteboard: "He'd tell the class, 'This is what the Prosser Mustangs are going to be running this week.'"
"He'd answer questions," adds Tom. "And he knew what he was talking about."
They recount a childhood that was custom-designed, it seems in retrospect, to turn him into a savant at reading defenses. Every day during football season he and Kirby would go from the elementary school to their dad's football practice, where they served as ball boys and mascots. By the time he was in sixth grade Kellen was doing drills with the varsity quarterbacks.
After games the coaches would gather at someone's house to watch film. Kellen tagged along. "He'd always have a little notepad with him," says Tom. "He was always drawing plays."
Kellen was a good-sized high school sophomore: 5'11", 155 pounds. "He grew fast," says Kris, with a wry smile, "and then he didn't grow again." That year he beat out a senior for the starting job. There was some muttering about nepotism, Tom recalls, until the season opener, when Kellen threw three touchdowns in a win over Mercer Island High, a much bigger school. "And that took care of that," says Tom.
In his final two seasons Kellen called his own plays. His father's only request was that he shout the audibles, "so I would know what was going on."
Kellen's junior year, the Mustangs took on nationally ranked Bellevue High. In Prosser's victory, Kellen threw six TDs—three of them to Kirby. A DVD of that game found its way into the hands of Justin Wilcox, who at the time was Boise's defensive coordinator. Wilcox became a lonely voice in the Broncos' football offices, advocating for Moore. I'm tellin' ya, this kid can PLAY!
Most college coaches who'd fallen in love with the quarterback they saw on film became strangely mute upon meeting him in person. "They'd stand up and shake his hand, and you could see it register," says Tom. While no one flat out told the Moores, "He's too short," they didn't have to. "They just never called back," Tom says.
Still, Moore had offers from Eastern Washington and Idaho, and things were looking up with Oregon State. Beavers coaches had invited him to work out for them to Corvallis. But when he got there, coach Mike Riley and quarterbacks coach Danny Langsdorf "took the 10 quarterbacks who were 6'3"," according to Tom.
Kellen and the other quarterbacks were instructed to go to another field, where "a couple of graduate assistants basically told them, 'You guys just sort of play catch,'" says Tom.
"That was a long drive home."
Not long after, they drove to Boise for another workout. Petersen remembers seeing Moore across the practice field and telling an assistant, "He's not that short."
"You're looking at his brother," the coach was told. "Kellen's the other guy."
The other guy, it turned out, fit in very well at Boise, a collection of overlooked, overachieving players. After redshirting his freshman season, Moore won the job coming out of fall camp in 2008. In his third start, his first on the road, he threw for 386 yards and three touchdowns in a 37--32 upset of No. 17 Oregon. The Broncos lost to TCU in that season's Poinsettia Bowl. They didn't lose again until that Nevada game last November, a string of 24 consecutive wins.
Taking their cue from Petersen, the Broncos are declining to answer questions about their chances of moving to the Big East or their chances of returning to a BCS bowl for the third time in six seasons. Moore, meanwhile, is withholding comment on what is shaping up as one of the most fascinating subplots of the 2012 NFL draft: Will he be picked, and if so, when?
ESPN draft analyst Mel Kiper Jr. says Moore is "at best, a late-round pick." The scout quoted earlier, a Moore fan, ticked off his two most commonly cited shortcomings: size and arm strength. On the subject of size, it wasn't so much Moore's height that concerned him as his lack of bulk. The scout wonders if the quarterback, at 191 pounds, can handle the pummeling he'd take in the league.
Moore's arm strength ("average to above-average") is ameliorated by his excellent, lightning-fast release, says the scout. "It comes out so quick, and he has such anticipation, instincts... . He'll get bigger and stronger, too."
And wiser. Asked if it annoyed him that some experts are already predicting that he'll flop in the NFL, Moore replied, "I really don't concern myself one bit. I think you learn quick enough you're not gonna make everyone happy. So there's no sense in trying."
All he needs is for one team to believe in him.
"We've heard that before," says Tom, who has memorized the sign in the Boise quarterbacks' meeting room, which is his son's second home. It says:
1) TOUGHNESS
2) PREPARATION
3) DECISION MAKING
4) ACCURACY
"Nothing in there about being 6'4."
8.11.2011
NOTHING TO LOSE AND EVERYTHING TO GAIN
I recently caught up with Ryan Blair, who is a serial entrepreneur and author of the new book "Nothing to Lose, Everything to Gain."
Ryan established his first company, 24-7 Tech when he was only twenty-one years old. Since then, he has created and actively invested in multiple start-ups and has become a self-made multimillionaire. After he sold his company ViSalus Sciences to Blyth in early 2008, the global recession took the company to the brink of failure resulting in a complete write off of the stock and near bankruptcy. Ryan as CEO went "all in" betting his last million dollars on its potential and turned the company around from the edge of failure to more than $150,000,000 a year in revenue in only 16 months winning the coveted DSN Global Turn Around Award in 2010. In this interview, Ryan talks about how he re-branded himself after being in a gang, the issues with the education system, and more.
Q & A:
How did you shake your criminal record and re-brand yourself?
I remember when I was working my way up in the first company that employed me, I used to have nightmares that one day they'd find out about that I had been in a gang, call me into the office, and fire me. In the beginning I didn't talk much about what I'd been through. But eventually when I got to a point where I had established myself as a professional entrepreneur, I embraced my past, used it as part of my branding, and crossed over.
In this day and age people want authenticity. Now that the world is social, people know all about you. Assuming you decided to join humanity, that is. It turned out that as I started showing my true identity, so did the rest of the world. One of the reasons my company ViSalus is one of the fastest growing companies in the industry today is because we share our good, bad, and ugly. Like sharing a video of me playing a practical joke on one of my employees, for instance. As a result of embracing authenticity, I turned the company around from near bankruptcy to over $15 million a month today. Unlike our competitors, our distributors and customers know exactly who we are, and I'd say that corporate America has a lot of catching up to do.
What's your take on the educational system? Will a college degree help or hurt your chances at starting a successful business?
As a product of Los Angeles's public school system, in a state with the highest dropout rate in the nation (about 20 percent), I can tell you from personal experience that some of our brightest minds are being misidentified because of a one-size-fits-all learning environment. Because I had ADD and dyslexia I never got past the 9th grade.
I recall sitting with a career counselor in continuation high school, being told that I didn't have the intellect or aptitude to become a doctor or a lawyer. They suggested a trade school, construction, something where I'd be working with my hands.
The irony is that today I employ plenty of doctors and lawyers. Would you rather be a doctor or a lawyer, or a guy who writes a check to doctors and lawyers?
As an entrepreneur, having a college degree or getting classroom training won't hurt your chances for starting a successful business, but it's ultimately not necessary. In Malcolm Gladwell's book "Outliers," he makes a point that it takes approximately 10,000 hours to master a skill set at a professional level. That means experience, over traditional education.
What three business lessons did you learn from juvenile detention?
I learned a lot about business and life from my time spent incarcerated. I like to call these pieces of wisdom my Philosophies from the Jail Cell to the Boardroom. One of the biggest lessons I learned was that in Juvenile Hall, new guys always get tested. When I went in the first time, I was just a skinny little white kid and I had to learn fast. People will be bumping into you on the basketball court, or asking you for things, testing to see if you're tough.
And everyone knew that if a guy let someone take their milk during lunchtime, they weren't as tough as they looked. Soon you'd be taking their milk everyday, and so would everyone else. It's the same for business, if you give people the impression that you can be taken, you will be.
Also, adaptation is the key to survival. In jail the guy who rises to power isn't always the strongest or the smartest. As prisoners come and go, he's the one that adapts to the changing environment, while influencing the right people. You can use this in business, staying abreast of market trends, changing your game plan as technology shifts, and adapting our strategy around your company's strongest competitive advantages. Darwin was absolutely right — survival is a matter of how you respond to change.
The last lesson I got from jail is that you have to learn how to read people. You don't know who to trust. It's the same for business because a lot of people come into my office with a front. I have to figure out quickly who is the real deal and who isn't. Based on that fact, I developed an HR system that I use when interviewing potential new hires that I call the Connect Four Technique. Yep, you guessed it. I make my future employees — and I have hundreds of them — play me in Connect Four.
Can everyone be an entrepreneur? Can it be learned or do you have to be born with a special gene?
No. Not everyone can be an entrepreneur. There are two types of people in the world, domesticated and undomesticated. Some people are so domesticated through their social programming and belief system, so employee minded, that they could never be entrepreneurs. And they shouldn't even bother trying. The irony is that this is coming from a guy who teaches millions of people how to become entrepreneurs. I'm literally selling a book about becoming an entrepreneur, telling you that not everyone should read it.
To be an entrepreneur, you have to have fighting instincts. Are instincts genetic? I don't think so, but you 'inherit' them from your upbringing. Now, if you're smart you can reprogram your beliefs. But there are still some people that would rather watch other people be entrepreneurs, like the people in the Forbes "richest celebrity list" than take the time to reprogram themselves, and live their lives like rock stars, too.
Is there a need for business plans these days?
When you've really got the entrepreneurial bug, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write a business plan. It's the equivalent of writing a book about playing the guitar before actually knowing how to play the guitar. You don't know what your new business is going to be like. And just like a guitar, a business will have to be tweaked and tuned multiple times, and you'll need long practice sessions and repetition, before you can get even one successful song out of it.
In my book "Nothing to Lose, Everything to Gain," I actually included a chapter called "I Hate Business Plans" where I talk about this. Most business plans that get sent to me, I close within seconds of opening them up because they are full of fluff and hype. A business plan should be simple, something you could scribble on a scratch pad. No more than three pages of your business objectives, expected results, and the strategy to get there. But the best business plan is one built from a business that is already up and running and that matches the business's actual results.
The point is that you should be so obsessed with your business that you can't sleep at night because that's all you can think about. And that's your ultimate "business plan."
Ryan established his first company, 24-7 Tech when he was only twenty-one years old. Since then, he has created and actively invested in multiple start-ups and has become a self-made multimillionaire. After he sold his company ViSalus Sciences to Blyth in early 2008, the global recession took the company to the brink of failure resulting in a complete write off of the stock and near bankruptcy. Ryan as CEO went "all in" betting his last million dollars on its potential and turned the company around from the edge of failure to more than $150,000,000 a year in revenue in only 16 months winning the coveted DSN Global Turn Around Award in 2010. In this interview, Ryan talks about how he re-branded himself after being in a gang, the issues with the education system, and more.
Q & A:
How did you shake your criminal record and re-brand yourself?
I remember when I was working my way up in the first company that employed me, I used to have nightmares that one day they'd find out about that I had been in a gang, call me into the office, and fire me. In the beginning I didn't talk much about what I'd been through. But eventually when I got to a point where I had established myself as a professional entrepreneur, I embraced my past, used it as part of my branding, and crossed over.
In this day and age people want authenticity. Now that the world is social, people know all about you. Assuming you decided to join humanity, that is. It turned out that as I started showing my true identity, so did the rest of the world. One of the reasons my company ViSalus is one of the fastest growing companies in the industry today is because we share our good, bad, and ugly. Like sharing a video of me playing a practical joke on one of my employees, for instance. As a result of embracing authenticity, I turned the company around from near bankruptcy to over $15 million a month today. Unlike our competitors, our distributors and customers know exactly who we are, and I'd say that corporate America has a lot of catching up to do.
What's your take on the educational system? Will a college degree help or hurt your chances at starting a successful business?
As a product of Los Angeles's public school system, in a state with the highest dropout rate in the nation (about 20 percent), I can tell you from personal experience that some of our brightest minds are being misidentified because of a one-size-fits-all learning environment. Because I had ADD and dyslexia I never got past the 9th grade.
I recall sitting with a career counselor in continuation high school, being told that I didn't have the intellect or aptitude to become a doctor or a lawyer. They suggested a trade school, construction, something where I'd be working with my hands.
The irony is that today I employ plenty of doctors and lawyers. Would you rather be a doctor or a lawyer, or a guy who writes a check to doctors and lawyers?
As an entrepreneur, having a college degree or getting classroom training won't hurt your chances for starting a successful business, but it's ultimately not necessary. In Malcolm Gladwell's book "Outliers," he makes a point that it takes approximately 10,000 hours to master a skill set at a professional level. That means experience, over traditional education.
What three business lessons did you learn from juvenile detention?
I learned a lot about business and life from my time spent incarcerated. I like to call these pieces of wisdom my Philosophies from the Jail Cell to the Boardroom. One of the biggest lessons I learned was that in Juvenile Hall, new guys always get tested. When I went in the first time, I was just a skinny little white kid and I had to learn fast. People will be bumping into you on the basketball court, or asking you for things, testing to see if you're tough.
And everyone knew that if a guy let someone take their milk during lunchtime, they weren't as tough as they looked. Soon you'd be taking their milk everyday, and so would everyone else. It's the same for business, if you give people the impression that you can be taken, you will be.
Also, adaptation is the key to survival. In jail the guy who rises to power isn't always the strongest or the smartest. As prisoners come and go, he's the one that adapts to the changing environment, while influencing the right people. You can use this in business, staying abreast of market trends, changing your game plan as technology shifts, and adapting our strategy around your company's strongest competitive advantages. Darwin was absolutely right — survival is a matter of how you respond to change.
The last lesson I got from jail is that you have to learn how to read people. You don't know who to trust. It's the same for business because a lot of people come into my office with a front. I have to figure out quickly who is the real deal and who isn't. Based on that fact, I developed an HR system that I use when interviewing potential new hires that I call the Connect Four Technique. Yep, you guessed it. I make my future employees — and I have hundreds of them — play me in Connect Four.
Can everyone be an entrepreneur? Can it be learned or do you have to be born with a special gene?
No. Not everyone can be an entrepreneur. There are two types of people in the world, domesticated and undomesticated. Some people are so domesticated through their social programming and belief system, so employee minded, that they could never be entrepreneurs. And they shouldn't even bother trying. The irony is that this is coming from a guy who teaches millions of people how to become entrepreneurs. I'm literally selling a book about becoming an entrepreneur, telling you that not everyone should read it.
To be an entrepreneur, you have to have fighting instincts. Are instincts genetic? I don't think so, but you 'inherit' them from your upbringing. Now, if you're smart you can reprogram your beliefs. But there are still some people that would rather watch other people be entrepreneurs, like the people in the Forbes "richest celebrity list" than take the time to reprogram themselves, and live their lives like rock stars, too.
Is there a need for business plans these days?
When you've really got the entrepreneurial bug, the last thing you want to do is sit down and write a business plan. It's the equivalent of writing a book about playing the guitar before actually knowing how to play the guitar. You don't know what your new business is going to be like. And just like a guitar, a business will have to be tweaked and tuned multiple times, and you'll need long practice sessions and repetition, before you can get even one successful song out of it.
In my book "Nothing to Lose, Everything to Gain," I actually included a chapter called "I Hate Business Plans" where I talk about this. Most business plans that get sent to me, I close within seconds of opening them up because they are full of fluff and hype. A business plan should be simple, something you could scribble on a scratch pad. No more than three pages of your business objectives, expected results, and the strategy to get there. But the best business plan is one built from a business that is already up and running and that matches the business's actual results.
The point is that you should be so obsessed with your business that you can't sleep at night because that's all you can think about. And that's your ultimate "business plan."
6.16.2011
RAY ALLENS ROUTINE
The routine
The routine is paramount. People don't understand that. They see Ray Allen, his head meticulously shaved, his jersey tucked carefully into his shorts, his socks pulled up to precisely the same length, and they are drawn to his silky jumper. Can you blame them? It is so smooth, so fluid, so seemingly effortless.
Everyone wishes they could shoot like Ray. They tell him that all the time. They are envious, they say, of his God-given talent.
"An insult," says Allen. "God could care less whether I can shoot a jump shot."
As the Celtics kick off their campaign for an NBA championship tonight in the opening round of the playoffs against the Atlanta Hawks, Allen will leave nothing to chance. He will line up for the tip exactly as he has for his other 73 games. His pregame ritual does not waver: a nap from 11:30 a.m. until 1 p.m., a meal of chicken and white rice at 2:30, an arrival time at the gym at precisely 3:45 to stretch. Allen will shave his head, then walk out to the court at exactly 4:30. He will methodically take shots from both baselines, both elbows, and the top of the key.
Allen is second all-time in 3-pointers, 460 shy of Reggie Miller. He has a chance of surpassing Miller, provided he stays healthy, but if he does, it will not be by divine intervention. It will be the result of years of painstaking preparation.
It will also be the byproduct of learning to strike a delicate balance between routine and superstition.
"I had a borderline case of OCD [obsessive compulsive disorder]," Allen explains. "I was never diagnosed, but it was something I was aware of."
This is how Ray Allen's mind works. If there is a speck of paper on the floor in his house, he cannot walk by without picking it up. He has tried. He has purposely marched up the stairs without correcting the glaring imperfection, but he's unable to eliminate the image from his mind until he goes back down, throws the scrap in the wastebasket, and restores order in his home.
He requires the same symmetry in his basketball universe.
Communicate, compromise
There was considerable discussion before the season on how Pierce, Allen, and Kevin Garnett would share shots.
It didn't occur to anyone, except their coach, to consider how they would share their personal space.
The wildly divergent rituals of the three superstars was a surprise - and, initially, a problem.
"As a team," Allen concedes, "we're all inside a bubble. Each of us only has so much room to operate. You have to carve out your space and recognize that because of someone else's needs, you might have to compromise a bit."
There's the free-wheeling Pierce, who never does anything quite the same from game to game. There is Allen, who needs to complete a specific checklist of chores before tipoff. And then there is Garnett, a brooding pregame figure who requires an intense period of introspection to prepare himself.
It was inevitable that their approaches would collide. In early December, Garnett was at his locker, alone, silently visualizing his responsibilities for the game. Allen, who had long ago completed his pregame tasks, was joking with Kendrick Perkins and Rajon Rondo. The noise interrupted Garnett's concentration. He barked his objections; his veteran teammate barked back.
"They got into it with each other," reports Rondo. "Me and Perk were sitting there going, 'Whoa, what's this about?' "
Pierce observed the verbal skirmish with amusement.
"Stuff like that happens on teams all the time," Pierce insists. "Different personalities. But Ray's to blame. He's crazy. One night he gets on the plane and says, 'Paul, you're in the wrong seat.' I told him, 'Man, there's a hundred seats open. Leave me alone.' "
Ray's obsession with routine has struck a chord with Rondo, who confesses, "I probably have OCD myself." The point guard must wash his hands twice at the nine-minute mark of every game. When teammates and fans high-five him, he offers a closed fist to ward off germs.
Allen has become his role model, and Rondo has started showing up at the arena three hours before the game to mimic Ray's routine.
"I want to be consistent," explains Rondo, "and Ray is all about that."
Allen's mantra is that you must walk, talk, eat, and dress as though you are the best.
"Ray is very strong-minded," Garnett says. "When you have other guys who are as strong, obviously you are going to have debates. But I think the young guys can see we can challenge one another without being destructive.
"I'm not going to say it was easy, but it was simple. Communicating is the best thing we do. A lot of people talk to hear themselves talk. Here, guys talk with their soul."
But coach Doc Rivers needed his trio to listen with the same fervor. His three stars were used to going about things in their own way, with teammates who deferred to them. That was no longer possible, and Rivers knew who would suffer the most.
"Earlier in the year, Ray would come to me and say, 'This is the way I used to do it,' " Rivers says. "I'd tell him, 'That's in the past.' Ray is a military guy. It was hard for him.
"But I told him if we were going to win this thing, he had to change."
'Hollywood' to Seattle
When Ray Allen was 8, he had to drop in five lefty layups and five righty layups before he could leave the gym. Sometimes another team needed the floor and he'd run out of time before he could complete his ritual.
"I cried," Allen says. "It messed up my day."
He did not discuss his compulsion with his teammates, his coaches, his siblings, or even his mother.
"I was almost embarrassed by it," Allen says. "It was just always beating inside my brain when I was young and trying to make sense of who I was."
They nicknamed him "Hollywood" when he arrived at the University of Connecticut because he was always color-coordinated, always meticulously groomed. He looked like someone important.
"I got that from Michael Jordan," Allen says. "When I was a kid, every time he did an interview on television, he was wearing a suit. He looked professional. I told myself, 'That's the way to go.' "
Ray plotted his workouts as if he were one of the coaches. Calhoun would show the team game film and Allen would ask to see it again, not because he needed to, but because he knew his teammates hadn't paid proper attention.
"It's internal," says Calhoun, "but it's there 24 hours a day. Ray does things the right way, and expects others to do them, too. People are sloppy - in their preparation, in the way they present themselves.
"Not Ray. Never."
So Allen harangues Garnett about his sweater-and-tie combos, and the omnipresent Adidas logo on everything he wears. He chastises Eddie House for shooting halfcourt shots at intermission at the opposing team's basket.
He talks to Perkins and Glen Davis about their social life. Allen doesn't drink alcohol. He reminds the young big men, "You have all summer to go out. Do it then. Not now. Not with so much at stake."
"Ray says he always packs light," Perkins says, "because he leaves his nightclub clothes at home."
Allen is certain his philosophy works. When he played in Seattle, a veteran leader among a mass of young, floundering talent, he would complete his pregame pattern, then retreat to the locker room where he'd read, often for more than an hour, before anyone else showed up.
Rashard Lewis, a young forward who jumped to the NBA from high school, began quizzing Allen about his routine. Soon he started showing up early, too. Before long, Damien Wilkins, Chris Wilcox, and Luke Ridnour joined them. Ray was the pied piper of preparation.
"It got to the point," says former Seattle coach Nate McMillan, "where the first bus was more crowded than the second bus. And that never happens."
Allen started a ritual of a halfcourt huddle at the end of games. He didn't just talk to the Sonics about being professional, he showed them how to be professional.
"Ray had a really big influence on me," says Lewis, who now plays for the Orlando Magic. "He knew I had the potential to be a great player, but, as he told me, it's the little things that can hold you back.
"So much of who I am today is from Ray. He helped me become an All-Star."
Not everybody in Seattle bought into Allen's plan. One day, when he arrived at the arena, Allen's regular parking spot was occupied. The owner of the car was Antonio Daniels, who had recently latched on to the early-bird shooting.
"I walk in and say, 'Why are you parking in my spot?' " Allen says. "He is acting like he doesn't know what I am talking about.
"We are playing the Knicks that night. I think I had about 40 points, but I'm still mad. I'm at the free throw line and Daniels comes up to me and says, 'You need me to take that spot more often.' I hit the free throw, then turn to him and shout, 'You stay out of my spot!' "
McMillan was worried after so many losses that his young players might abandon the Allen plan. But even after a double-digit loss, there was Allen, his head shaved, his shirt tucked in, reading a book, prepared to fight again.
"He made my job easy," McMillan says. "No matter what happened the night before, I could always say, 'Ray's here. He's ready. How about you?' "
Buying into concessions
The Celtics have asked Ray Allen to reinvent himself this season. He plays fewer minutes, takes fewer shots, is no longer the focal point of the offense.
"You see him sacrifice," says Perkins, "and you think, 'If he can do it, then I can do it, too.' "
Those changes were palatable for Ray. But he got frustrated when Rivers changed the team shootaround from the morning of the game to three hours before the game. And when Davis's minutes dwindled, and the coaches asked him to put in workouts before and after games, that cut into Allen's alone time on the floor.
"The last time I talked to Ray, he was ticked at Big Baby for not playing better, because he was messing up his pregame," Calhoun says. "I said to Ray, 'You've been in this league 12 years. Don't you have this down by now?' "
Allen is pleased that Rondo has become his pregame partner. He noted that Pierce, who ribs him the most about his eccentricities, has showed up early himself from time to time. In the meantime, Allen has worked to respect KG's ritual from afar.
"I've watched Ray," Garnett says. "I've watched Paul, and we all have our own way of preparing. All of us are excessive in how we go about it. It makes sense to me. Everybody is a little over the top in what they do, because it means so much."
When the Celtics played in Orlando earlier this season, Allen was at the arena at his customary time. He was surprised to see a lone Magic player working down at the other end of the floor - until he realized it was Rashard Lewis.
The word in Seattle is that Ridnour, Wilkins, and Wilcox have continued their pregame routine. McMillan, now the coach of the Portland Trail Blazers, reports that he imparted Allen's pregame wisdom to young All-Star Brandon Roy, who is so pleased with the results that he doesn't even wait for the first bus anymore. He goes a half-hour earlier by cab with an assistant coach.
The Celtics have benefited most from Allen, who admits he's made more concessions this season than all the others combined.
"Our young guys are lucky to be around him. Too often these kids make it to the NBA and they settle. Ray won't let them."
Pierce says he plans to adopt some of Allen's eating habits and offseason workouts.
The bubble he calls the Boston Celtics can get cluttered. Very cluttered. But, according to Ray's careful calculations, there is still plenty of space inside for a championship trophy.
The routine is paramount. People don't understand that. They see Ray Allen, his head meticulously shaved, his jersey tucked carefully into his shorts, his socks pulled up to precisely the same length, and they are drawn to his silky jumper. Can you blame them? It is so smooth, so fluid, so seemingly effortless.
Everyone wishes they could shoot like Ray. They tell him that all the time. They are envious, they say, of his God-given talent.
"An insult," says Allen. "God could care less whether I can shoot a jump shot."
As the Celtics kick off their campaign for an NBA championship tonight in the opening round of the playoffs against the Atlanta Hawks, Allen will leave nothing to chance. He will line up for the tip exactly as he has for his other 73 games. His pregame ritual does not waver: a nap from 11:30 a.m. until 1 p.m., a meal of chicken and white rice at 2:30, an arrival time at the gym at precisely 3:45 to stretch. Allen will shave his head, then walk out to the court at exactly 4:30. He will methodically take shots from both baselines, both elbows, and the top of the key.
Allen is second all-time in 3-pointers, 460 shy of Reggie Miller. He has a chance of surpassing Miller, provided he stays healthy, but if he does, it will not be by divine intervention. It will be the result of years of painstaking preparation.
It will also be the byproduct of learning to strike a delicate balance between routine and superstition.
"I had a borderline case of OCD [obsessive compulsive disorder]," Allen explains. "I was never diagnosed, but it was something I was aware of."
This is how Ray Allen's mind works. If there is a speck of paper on the floor in his house, he cannot walk by without picking it up. He has tried. He has purposely marched up the stairs without correcting the glaring imperfection, but he's unable to eliminate the image from his mind until he goes back down, throws the scrap in the wastebasket, and restores order in his home.
He requires the same symmetry in his basketball universe.
Communicate, compromise
There was considerable discussion before the season on how Pierce, Allen, and Kevin Garnett would share shots.
It didn't occur to anyone, except their coach, to consider how they would share their personal space.
The wildly divergent rituals of the three superstars was a surprise - and, initially, a problem.
"As a team," Allen concedes, "we're all inside a bubble. Each of us only has so much room to operate. You have to carve out your space and recognize that because of someone else's needs, you might have to compromise a bit."
There's the free-wheeling Pierce, who never does anything quite the same from game to game. There is Allen, who needs to complete a specific checklist of chores before tipoff. And then there is Garnett, a brooding pregame figure who requires an intense period of introspection to prepare himself.
It was inevitable that their approaches would collide. In early December, Garnett was at his locker, alone, silently visualizing his responsibilities for the game. Allen, who had long ago completed his pregame tasks, was joking with Kendrick Perkins and Rajon Rondo. The noise interrupted Garnett's concentration. He barked his objections; his veteran teammate barked back.
"They got into it with each other," reports Rondo. "Me and Perk were sitting there going, 'Whoa, what's this about?' "
Pierce observed the verbal skirmish with amusement.
"Stuff like that happens on teams all the time," Pierce insists. "Different personalities. But Ray's to blame. He's crazy. One night he gets on the plane and says, 'Paul, you're in the wrong seat.' I told him, 'Man, there's a hundred seats open. Leave me alone.' "
Ray's obsession with routine has struck a chord with Rondo, who confesses, "I probably have OCD myself." The point guard must wash his hands twice at the nine-minute mark of every game. When teammates and fans high-five him, he offers a closed fist to ward off germs.
Allen has become his role model, and Rondo has started showing up at the arena three hours before the game to mimic Ray's routine.
"I want to be consistent," explains Rondo, "and Ray is all about that."
Allen's mantra is that you must walk, talk, eat, and dress as though you are the best.
"Ray is very strong-minded," Garnett says. "When you have other guys who are as strong, obviously you are going to have debates. But I think the young guys can see we can challenge one another without being destructive.
"I'm not going to say it was easy, but it was simple. Communicating is the best thing we do. A lot of people talk to hear themselves talk. Here, guys talk with their soul."
But coach Doc Rivers needed his trio to listen with the same fervor. His three stars were used to going about things in their own way, with teammates who deferred to them. That was no longer possible, and Rivers knew who would suffer the most.
"Earlier in the year, Ray would come to me and say, 'This is the way I used to do it,' " Rivers says. "I'd tell him, 'That's in the past.' Ray is a military guy. It was hard for him.
"But I told him if we were going to win this thing, he had to change."
'Hollywood' to Seattle
When Ray Allen was 8, he had to drop in five lefty layups and five righty layups before he could leave the gym. Sometimes another team needed the floor and he'd run out of time before he could complete his ritual.
"I cried," Allen says. "It messed up my day."
He did not discuss his compulsion with his teammates, his coaches, his siblings, or even his mother.
"I was almost embarrassed by it," Allen says. "It was just always beating inside my brain when I was young and trying to make sense of who I was."
They nicknamed him "Hollywood" when he arrived at the University of Connecticut because he was always color-coordinated, always meticulously groomed. He looked like someone important.
"I got that from Michael Jordan," Allen says. "When I was a kid, every time he did an interview on television, he was wearing a suit. He looked professional. I told myself, 'That's the way to go.' "
Ray plotted his workouts as if he were one of the coaches. Calhoun would show the team game film and Allen would ask to see it again, not because he needed to, but because he knew his teammates hadn't paid proper attention.
"It's internal," says Calhoun, "but it's there 24 hours a day. Ray does things the right way, and expects others to do them, too. People are sloppy - in their preparation, in the way they present themselves.
"Not Ray. Never."
So Allen harangues Garnett about his sweater-and-tie combos, and the omnipresent Adidas logo on everything he wears. He chastises Eddie House for shooting halfcourt shots at intermission at the opposing team's basket.
He talks to Perkins and Glen Davis about their social life. Allen doesn't drink alcohol. He reminds the young big men, "You have all summer to go out. Do it then. Not now. Not with so much at stake."
"Ray says he always packs light," Perkins says, "because he leaves his nightclub clothes at home."
Allen is certain his philosophy works. When he played in Seattle, a veteran leader among a mass of young, floundering talent, he would complete his pregame pattern, then retreat to the locker room where he'd read, often for more than an hour, before anyone else showed up.
Rashard Lewis, a young forward who jumped to the NBA from high school, began quizzing Allen about his routine. Soon he started showing up early, too. Before long, Damien Wilkins, Chris Wilcox, and Luke Ridnour joined them. Ray was the pied piper of preparation.
"It got to the point," says former Seattle coach Nate McMillan, "where the first bus was more crowded than the second bus. And that never happens."
Allen started a ritual of a halfcourt huddle at the end of games. He didn't just talk to the Sonics about being professional, he showed them how to be professional.
"Ray had a really big influence on me," says Lewis, who now plays for the Orlando Magic. "He knew I had the potential to be a great player, but, as he told me, it's the little things that can hold you back.
"So much of who I am today is from Ray. He helped me become an All-Star."
Not everybody in Seattle bought into Allen's plan. One day, when he arrived at the arena, Allen's regular parking spot was occupied. The owner of the car was Antonio Daniels, who had recently latched on to the early-bird shooting.
"I walk in and say, 'Why are you parking in my spot?' " Allen says. "He is acting like he doesn't know what I am talking about.
"We are playing the Knicks that night. I think I had about 40 points, but I'm still mad. I'm at the free throw line and Daniels comes up to me and says, 'You need me to take that spot more often.' I hit the free throw, then turn to him and shout, 'You stay out of my spot!' "
McMillan was worried after so many losses that his young players might abandon the Allen plan. But even after a double-digit loss, there was Allen, his head shaved, his shirt tucked in, reading a book, prepared to fight again.
"He made my job easy," McMillan says. "No matter what happened the night before, I could always say, 'Ray's here. He's ready. How about you?' "
Buying into concessions
The Celtics have asked Ray Allen to reinvent himself this season. He plays fewer minutes, takes fewer shots, is no longer the focal point of the offense.
"You see him sacrifice," says Perkins, "and you think, 'If he can do it, then I can do it, too.' "
Those changes were palatable for Ray. But he got frustrated when Rivers changed the team shootaround from the morning of the game to three hours before the game. And when Davis's minutes dwindled, and the coaches asked him to put in workouts before and after games, that cut into Allen's alone time on the floor.
"The last time I talked to Ray, he was ticked at Big Baby for not playing better, because he was messing up his pregame," Calhoun says. "I said to Ray, 'You've been in this league 12 years. Don't you have this down by now?' "
Allen is pleased that Rondo has become his pregame partner. He noted that Pierce, who ribs him the most about his eccentricities, has showed up early himself from time to time. In the meantime, Allen has worked to respect KG's ritual from afar.
"I've watched Ray," Garnett says. "I've watched Paul, and we all have our own way of preparing. All of us are excessive in how we go about it. It makes sense to me. Everybody is a little over the top in what they do, because it means so much."
When the Celtics played in Orlando earlier this season, Allen was at the arena at his customary time. He was surprised to see a lone Magic player working down at the other end of the floor - until he realized it was Rashard Lewis.
The word in Seattle is that Ridnour, Wilkins, and Wilcox have continued their pregame routine. McMillan, now the coach of the Portland Trail Blazers, reports that he imparted Allen's pregame wisdom to young All-Star Brandon Roy, who is so pleased with the results that he doesn't even wait for the first bus anymore. He goes a half-hour earlier by cab with an assistant coach.
The Celtics have benefited most from Allen, who admits he's made more concessions this season than all the others combined.
"Our young guys are lucky to be around him. Too often these kids make it to the NBA and they settle. Ray won't let them."
Pierce says he plans to adopt some of Allen's eating habits and offseason workouts.
The bubble he calls the Boston Celtics can get cluttered. Very cluttered. But, according to Ray's careful calculations, there is still plenty of space inside for a championship trophy.
6.15.2011
TYSON CHANDLER
Chandler, the fiery defensive anchor and emotional leader in his first season with the Mavs, is a top priority for Dallas to resign. The 7-foot-1 center provided Dallas with an athletic, defensive-minded big man for the first time in Dirk Nowitzki's 13 seasons.
He will be a highly sought-after free agent and will command a hefty salary.
"Tyson Chandler changed our season on a lot of levels," Mavs coach Rick Carlisle said. "It wasn't just his play. It was his enthusiasm, his energy. He just brought a certain exuberance to our locker room and he was always a guy who was talking about accountability. He was talking about it, preaching it and it got other guys in the locker room on board with keeping each other accountable.
"Because, if you don't have a team that polices itself, you can't win an NBA championship."
Chandler averaged a near-double-double with 10.1 points and 9.4 rebounds, while earning NBA All-Defensive second team honors and finishing third in voting for the league's Defensive Player of the Year.
He will be a highly sought-after free agent and will command a hefty salary.
"Tyson Chandler changed our season on a lot of levels," Mavs coach Rick Carlisle said. "It wasn't just his play. It was his enthusiasm, his energy. He just brought a certain exuberance to our locker room and he was always a guy who was talking about accountability. He was talking about it, preaching it and it got other guys in the locker room on board with keeping each other accountable.
"Because, if you don't have a team that polices itself, you can't win an NBA championship."
Chandler averaged a near-double-double with 10.1 points and 9.4 rebounds, while earning NBA All-Defensive second team honors and finishing third in voting for the league's Defensive Player of the Year.
DIRK'S ENCORE
Dirk Nowitzki's borderline insane work ethic has always been driven by two dreams.
He lived one in 2008, when he led Germany to the Olympics, carrying his country's flag during opening ceremony. He accomplished the other days ago, when his Dallas Mavericks put the finishing touches on the franchise's first championship.
Now what for Nowitzki?
"You think he's going to work less?" teammate Peja Stojakovic asked, laughing at such a silly notion. "No way."
Teammates don't expect Dirk Nowitzki's passion to change just because he got his title.
That's the consensus opinion in the Mavericks' organization. Never mind that Nowitzki, with his Finals MVP trophy within arm's reach, openly wondered whether he would have worked as hard if he won a title earlier in his career.
Maybe that was the champagne talking. After all, this is a guy who abstains from alcohol all season. Heck, it was news that he celebrated the Western Conference semifinals sweep of the two-time defending champion Los Angeles Lakers by eating a couple of slices of pizza, cheating on his strict diet.
As far as Mavericks concerns go, Dirk's ability to maintain his maniacal motivation ranks somewhere below whether billionaire owner Mark Cuban can afford the giant $90,000 bottle of Aces of Spades champagne the German guzzled from while celebrating at a Miami Beach club in the wee hours of Monday morning.
"I don't think you're going to see any less of a competitive Dirk with the hunger to win a championship next year," said Mavs president of basketball operations Donnie Nelson, the man most responsible for bringing Nowitzki to Dallas 13 years ago. "That's not part of this guy's DNA."
Added coach Rick Carlisle: "Guys like Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan -- these guys are wired a certain way. And they're uncompromising with how they approach their preparation to play."
If anything, the Mavericks brass hopes Nowitzki relaxes a little. He turns 33 on Sunday, and while Dallas' decision-makers are confident Nowitzki has at least a few more prime seasons left in his ground-bound game, rest becomes more important as he ages.
Nowitzki has relaxed more than ever the past couple of summers, when he finally granted Cuban's requests to not compete in international tournaments. Instead, Nowitzki makes a daily drive from his boyhood home in Wurzburg, Germany to go through strenuous, unconventional morning workouts with longtime mentor Holger Geschwindner, then does a couple hours of cardio each afternoon.
Nowitzki's late-night shooting sessions during the season, often with Holger in attendance, are approaching legendary status. Teammates are surprised if they show up to the gym to work on their game during a non-game night and don't see Nowitzki.
Guys such as Stojakovic, who competed against Nowitzki for years, went from respecting Nowitzki's commitment to being in awe of it once they see his passion up close and personal on a consistent basis.
"His drive is just unique," said Brian Cardinal, who became one of Nowitzki's close buddies during their first season as teammates. "His motivation is like no other. To come in here and see him grind and put in the effort he does, it's inspiring. It's contagious."
Nobody expects that to change after a championship, no matter what Nowitzki says while soaking up the moment he's worked half of his life to achieve.
"Maybe a couple of nights next year I'm going to tell Holger to go somewhere else and leave me alone," Nowitzki said, quickly seeming to realize how unlikely that is to happen. "No, I don't know, we'll have to wait and see.
"I play this sport because I'm a competitor. That's what drove me to be the best I could be. I don't think it's going to be a huge motivation drop-off. I think I'll be OK once I get a little rest here."
He'll have to set new goals. The challenge of defending a championship should certainly fuel the 7-footer's competitive fire.
Maybe he'll start giving his legacy a little thought, something he claims he's never done before. Nowitzki, who ranks 23rd in NBA history with 22,792 points, acknowledged Tuesday that 30,000 would be a worthy target.
He'll find plenty of motivational fodder. Nowitzki knows nothing else.
Workers work. Winners win. For Nowitzki, the former leads to the latter, a trend that won't end just because he finally had one fully satisfying season.
He lived one in 2008, when he led Germany to the Olympics, carrying his country's flag during opening ceremony. He accomplished the other days ago, when his Dallas Mavericks put the finishing touches on the franchise's first championship.
Now what for Nowitzki?
"You think he's going to work less?" teammate Peja Stojakovic asked, laughing at such a silly notion. "No way."
Teammates don't expect Dirk Nowitzki's passion to change just because he got his title.
That's the consensus opinion in the Mavericks' organization. Never mind that Nowitzki, with his Finals MVP trophy within arm's reach, openly wondered whether he would have worked as hard if he won a title earlier in his career.
Maybe that was the champagne talking. After all, this is a guy who abstains from alcohol all season. Heck, it was news that he celebrated the Western Conference semifinals sweep of the two-time defending champion Los Angeles Lakers by eating a couple of slices of pizza, cheating on his strict diet.
As far as Mavericks concerns go, Dirk's ability to maintain his maniacal motivation ranks somewhere below whether billionaire owner Mark Cuban can afford the giant $90,000 bottle of Aces of Spades champagne the German guzzled from while celebrating at a Miami Beach club in the wee hours of Monday morning.
"I don't think you're going to see any less of a competitive Dirk with the hunger to win a championship next year," said Mavs president of basketball operations Donnie Nelson, the man most responsible for bringing Nowitzki to Dallas 13 years ago. "That's not part of this guy's DNA."
Added coach Rick Carlisle: "Guys like Dirk Nowitzki, Jason Kidd, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan -- these guys are wired a certain way. And they're uncompromising with how they approach their preparation to play."
If anything, the Mavericks brass hopes Nowitzki relaxes a little. He turns 33 on Sunday, and while Dallas' decision-makers are confident Nowitzki has at least a few more prime seasons left in his ground-bound game, rest becomes more important as he ages.
Nowitzki has relaxed more than ever the past couple of summers, when he finally granted Cuban's requests to not compete in international tournaments. Instead, Nowitzki makes a daily drive from his boyhood home in Wurzburg, Germany to go through strenuous, unconventional morning workouts with longtime mentor Holger Geschwindner, then does a couple hours of cardio each afternoon.
Nowitzki's late-night shooting sessions during the season, often with Holger in attendance, are approaching legendary status. Teammates are surprised if they show up to the gym to work on their game during a non-game night and don't see Nowitzki.
Guys such as Stojakovic, who competed against Nowitzki for years, went from respecting Nowitzki's commitment to being in awe of it once they see his passion up close and personal on a consistent basis.
"His drive is just unique," said Brian Cardinal, who became one of Nowitzki's close buddies during their first season as teammates. "His motivation is like no other. To come in here and see him grind and put in the effort he does, it's inspiring. It's contagious."
Nobody expects that to change after a championship, no matter what Nowitzki says while soaking up the moment he's worked half of his life to achieve.
"Maybe a couple of nights next year I'm going to tell Holger to go somewhere else and leave me alone," Nowitzki said, quickly seeming to realize how unlikely that is to happen. "No, I don't know, we'll have to wait and see.
"I play this sport because I'm a competitor. That's what drove me to be the best I could be. I don't think it's going to be a huge motivation drop-off. I think I'll be OK once I get a little rest here."
He'll have to set new goals. The challenge of defending a championship should certainly fuel the 7-footer's competitive fire.
Maybe he'll start giving his legacy a little thought, something he claims he's never done before. Nowitzki, who ranks 23rd in NBA history with 22,792 points, acknowledged Tuesday that 30,000 would be a worthy target.
He'll find plenty of motivational fodder. Nowitzki knows nothing else.
Workers work. Winners win. For Nowitzki, the former leads to the latter, a trend that won't end just because he finally had one fully satisfying season.
6.10.2011
DIRK AND HOLGER
Article Written: Aug. 27, 2006
Dirk: Born June 19, 1978
SAITAMA (FIBA World Championship) - One of the most important figures at the FIBA World Championship is not on the court.
Instead, Holger Geschwindner sits in the stands and watches his famous pupil Dirk Nowitzki wreak havoc on opponents as Germany takes aim at another medal in this prestigious tournament.
Nowitzki had 23 points to fire the Germans to a narrow victory over Nigeria on Sunday and into the quarter finals in Saitama.
He spoke to Cindy Garcia-Bennett about Nowitzki and Germany.
FIBA: How difficult is it for Nowitzki to deal with all the expectation surrounding him and Germany?
Geschwindner: "He feels pressure. He is the key figure in Germany right now, since he is playing in the NBA and everyone is watching him. It's a big load but he is handling it really well so far."
FIBA: Do you think Nowitzki is at the high point of his career?
Geschwindner: "I guess everyone can see that he is playing his role, I hope that he can improve his tools. He needs more physical exercise. But I think in two years time he will be on top of his game. He improves year after year and we have a pretty good plan to keep him focused. He is 28 yrs old right now and has two more years to reach the peak of his abilities."
FIBA: You have known Nowitzki for a long time. How has he changed?
Geschwindner: "I first met Dirk when he was a schoolboy, he was 16 years old. "He really hasn't changed much in terms of character. He is very down to earth, he has only one car and a little house. He is not playing to be a big shot. He knows he has great talent but other guys have talents in other fields. He doesn't feel superior, for Dirk everybody is the same, equal."
Dirk: Born June 19, 1978
SAITAMA (FIBA World Championship) - One of the most important figures at the FIBA World Championship is not on the court.
Instead, Holger Geschwindner sits in the stands and watches his famous pupil Dirk Nowitzki wreak havoc on opponents as Germany takes aim at another medal in this prestigious tournament.
Nowitzki had 23 points to fire the Germans to a narrow victory over Nigeria on Sunday and into the quarter finals in Saitama.
He spoke to Cindy Garcia-Bennett about Nowitzki and Germany.
FIBA: How difficult is it for Nowitzki to deal with all the expectation surrounding him and Germany?
Geschwindner: "He feels pressure. He is the key figure in Germany right now, since he is playing in the NBA and everyone is watching him. It's a big load but he is handling it really well so far."
FIBA: Do you think Nowitzki is at the high point of his career?
Geschwindner: "I guess everyone can see that he is playing his role, I hope that he can improve his tools. He needs more physical exercise. But I think in two years time he will be on top of his game. He improves year after year and we have a pretty good plan to keep him focused. He is 28 yrs old right now and has two more years to reach the peak of his abilities."
FIBA: You have known Nowitzki for a long time. How has he changed?
Geschwindner: "I first met Dirk when he was a schoolboy, he was 16 years old. "He really hasn't changed much in terms of character. He is very down to earth, he has only one car and a little house. He is not playing to be a big shot. He knows he has great talent but other guys have talents in other fields. He doesn't feel superior, for Dirk everybody is the same, equal."
4.21.2011
RAY ALLEN: THE NBA ALL-TIME 3PT SHOOTER
There are a handful of excellent shooters in the NBA. And then there’s Ray Allen. Excellent shooters can make shots even when lanky defenders with slinky arms obstruct their view of the basket. Ray Allen will make shots regardless of the condition. Excellent shooters are Matt Bonner, Anthony Morrow, Kyle Korver, and their role-playing brethren. Ray Allen is a future Hall of Famer.
Ray Allen’s jump shot is sweeter than high fructose corn syrup, and just as deadly. The question is, Why? Why is his shot greater than all other shots? And, what’s the secret behind his success?
“That’s an excellent question,” says Karl Hobbs, George Washington University’s current head coach and the man Ray Allen credits for helping him polish his stroke while at UConn.
While Allen certainly doesn’t disagree with the man who had him study Hersey Hawkins game tape throughout his time at Connecticut, he thinks his career shooting percentage of 45 (40 from behind the three-point line) has more to do with his legs. “The lower body is the most important,” says the 10-time All-Star. “The upper body is kind of like non-existent if your lower body is doing what it’s supposed to do. If you’ve got great legs on your shot, it’s always going to have a shot to go in.”
While there may be a slight difference of opinion when it comes to dissecting the physical reasons behind his shooting prowess, the leg on which Ray Allen’s greatness stands is simple: It’s his work ethic.
Everyone knows about Ray Allen’s extremely regimented game day routine. They know about his nap in the early afternoon; they know about his post-nap meal of chicken and rice; they know about his early arrival to the gym; they know about his exhaustive shooting routine. What everyone may not know about is Allen’s equally outrageous practice habits.
According to Boston coach Doc Rivers, even on the day after a game where he played 40-plus minutes, Allen will hit the Celtics’ facility, hours prior to the start of practice. After carefully changing into his ball gear—if Allen had a hair on his head, it would never be out of place; his nature is that meticulous—he begins his workout by running on the treadmill for 60 minutes. He then makes his way down to the court, where he matriculates from location to location, taking 300 or more shots. Then his teammates arrive and practice begins.
“It’s just his warm-up, and for most people that’s their practice,” says Rivers. “That is why he is who he is.”
Who is Ray Allen exactly? He’s 15 seasons of 20 points, 4 rebounds, 3 assists and 2 threes a game. He is, according to many NBA players past and present, one of the greatest shooters to ever lay hands on a Spalding. He is, according to the stats, the greatest three-point shooter of all time. He is the perfect citizen, the epitome of cool and the very definition of consistent greatness.
Yet, at 35 years of age, he still practices like the scrawny freshman at UConn he was half a lifetime ago. And that is the not-so-secret ingredient behind his jumper’s serenity and his career’s longevity.
“I don’t take credit or praise for being able to shoot the basketball, because I do it so much,” says Allen. “Pat me on the back. Tell me I’m great. But get in the gym with me and you’ll be like, ‘I’ve watched him work out, so I really expect that to go in.’”
Coach Hobbs, observer of almost two decades of Ray Allen hoops, says that you can never tell what kind of game Allen is having based on his ever-neutral facial expression.
Consider February 10, 2011 the exception.
Backpedaling down the court after draining his 2561 three of his NBA career over Derek Fisher, Allen pumped his fists—seemingly still trying to keep his emotions in check. He followed that by clapping emphatically. With the crowd noise rising to an NBA Finals-esque crescendo, Allen gave the masses a thumbs-up. Then, he exhaled and Allen went over to Reggie Miller, who was on the sidelines calling the game for TNT, and gave him a handshake and a heartfelt hug.
Moments later, after re-adjusting his headset, Miller would note on national TV: “I’m so happy for him, because this is one of the best guys. He is so humble. He’s so giving. He’s a great family man.”
What Reggie Miller was trying to say, and what Ray Allen’s hug attests to, is that Allen is nothing if not gracious. Coach Hobbs knows this from his days working him out on the practice floor at UConn, where a young Allen would always make sure to say, “Thanks, Coach,” before heading to the locker room.
Not satiated with the title he won in 2008, after re-upping for two more years with the Celtics this past summer, Allen spent copious amounts of time in the gym, preparing for another run at the championship.
“A lot of guys in the NBA talk about wanting to win, but they don’t want to win on the team’s terms—they want to win on their own terms,” says Allen. “People talk about it, but they don’t really know what it means to really go about winning. It’s just talk. I’ve been fortunate to meet up with some players and an organization that really wants to win.”
The work paid off. The 35-year-old had one of his finest season since coming over to Boston in ’07. He’s averaging 16.5 points, shot career-bests of 49 percent from the field and 44 percent from downtown. More importantly, the Celtics finished third in the Eastern Conference.
“He’s gotten better with age,” says Hobbs, who watches the Celtics on TV frequently. “That’s a tribute to how he keeps his body and mind in great condition.”
There are excellent shooters. And then there’s Ray Allen.
Ray Allen’s jump shot is sweeter than high fructose corn syrup, and just as deadly. The question is, Why? Why is his shot greater than all other shots? And, what’s the secret behind his success?
“That’s an excellent question,” says Karl Hobbs, George Washington University’s current head coach and the man Ray Allen credits for helping him polish his stroke while at UConn.
While Allen certainly doesn’t disagree with the man who had him study Hersey Hawkins game tape throughout his time at Connecticut, he thinks his career shooting percentage of 45 (40 from behind the three-point line) has more to do with his legs. “The lower body is the most important,” says the 10-time All-Star. “The upper body is kind of like non-existent if your lower body is doing what it’s supposed to do. If you’ve got great legs on your shot, it’s always going to have a shot to go in.”
While there may be a slight difference of opinion when it comes to dissecting the physical reasons behind his shooting prowess, the leg on which Ray Allen’s greatness stands is simple: It’s his work ethic.
Everyone knows about Ray Allen’s extremely regimented game day routine. They know about his nap in the early afternoon; they know about his post-nap meal of chicken and rice; they know about his early arrival to the gym; they know about his exhaustive shooting routine. What everyone may not know about is Allen’s equally outrageous practice habits.
According to Boston coach Doc Rivers, even on the day after a game where he played 40-plus minutes, Allen will hit the Celtics’ facility, hours prior to the start of practice. After carefully changing into his ball gear—if Allen had a hair on his head, it would never be out of place; his nature is that meticulous—he begins his workout by running on the treadmill for 60 minutes. He then makes his way down to the court, where he matriculates from location to location, taking 300 or more shots. Then his teammates arrive and practice begins.
“It’s just his warm-up, and for most people that’s their practice,” says Rivers. “That is why he is who he is.”
Who is Ray Allen exactly? He’s 15 seasons of 20 points, 4 rebounds, 3 assists and 2 threes a game. He is, according to many NBA players past and present, one of the greatest shooters to ever lay hands on a Spalding. He is, according to the stats, the greatest three-point shooter of all time. He is the perfect citizen, the epitome of cool and the very definition of consistent greatness.
Yet, at 35 years of age, he still practices like the scrawny freshman at UConn he was half a lifetime ago. And that is the not-so-secret ingredient behind his jumper’s serenity and his career’s longevity.
“I don’t take credit or praise for being able to shoot the basketball, because I do it so much,” says Allen. “Pat me on the back. Tell me I’m great. But get in the gym with me and you’ll be like, ‘I’ve watched him work out, so I really expect that to go in.’”
Coach Hobbs, observer of almost two decades of Ray Allen hoops, says that you can never tell what kind of game Allen is having based on his ever-neutral facial expression.
Consider February 10, 2011 the exception.
Backpedaling down the court after draining his 2561 three of his NBA career over Derek Fisher, Allen pumped his fists—seemingly still trying to keep his emotions in check. He followed that by clapping emphatically. With the crowd noise rising to an NBA Finals-esque crescendo, Allen gave the masses a thumbs-up. Then, he exhaled and Allen went over to Reggie Miller, who was on the sidelines calling the game for TNT, and gave him a handshake and a heartfelt hug.
Moments later, after re-adjusting his headset, Miller would note on national TV: “I’m so happy for him, because this is one of the best guys. He is so humble. He’s so giving. He’s a great family man.”
What Reggie Miller was trying to say, and what Ray Allen’s hug attests to, is that Allen is nothing if not gracious. Coach Hobbs knows this from his days working him out on the practice floor at UConn, where a young Allen would always make sure to say, “Thanks, Coach,” before heading to the locker room.
Not satiated with the title he won in 2008, after re-upping for two more years with the Celtics this past summer, Allen spent copious amounts of time in the gym, preparing for another run at the championship.
“A lot of guys in the NBA talk about wanting to win, but they don’t want to win on the team’s terms—they want to win on their own terms,” says Allen. “People talk about it, but they don’t really know what it means to really go about winning. It’s just talk. I’ve been fortunate to meet up with some players and an organization that really wants to win.”
The work paid off. The 35-year-old had one of his finest season since coming over to Boston in ’07. He’s averaging 16.5 points, shot career-bests of 49 percent from the field and 44 percent from downtown. More importantly, the Celtics finished third in the Eastern Conference.
“He’s gotten better with age,” says Hobbs, who watches the Celtics on TV frequently. “That’s a tribute to how he keeps his body and mind in great condition.”
There are excellent shooters. And then there’s Ray Allen.
4.12.2011
EVALUATING QB's
Every pass play is a pure demonstration of human feeling. Scientists have in recent years discovered that emotions, which are often dismissed as primitive and unreliable, can in fact reflect a vast amount of information processing. In many instances, our feelings are capable of responding to things we're not even aware of, noticing details we don't register on a conscious level.
This exercise captures why it's so important for quarterbacks to rely on their feelings and not their analytical intelligence. "QBs are tested on every single pass play," Hasselbeck says. "To be good at the position, you've got to know the answer before you even understand the question. You've got to be able to glance at a defense and recognize what's going on. And you've got to be able to do that when the left tackle gets beat and you're running away from a big lineman. That ability might not depend on real IQ, but it sure takes a lot of football IQ."
How QBs develop a more effective emotional brain is the question teams should be asking. The simple answer: work. Expertise requires lots of effort and repetition. K. Anders Ericsson, a psychologist at Florida State, studies expertise. Ericsson acknowledges the role of genetic gifts (physical and mental skills are not distributed equally at birth), but he believes that the overwhelming majority of expertise is earned. "There is virtually no evidence that expertise is due to genetic or innate factors," Ericsson says. "Rather, it strongly suggests that expertise requires huge amounts of effort and practice." This is because it takes time to train our feelings, to embed those useful patterns into the brain. Before a quarterback can find the open man, parsing the defense in a glance, he must spend years studying cornerbacks and crossing routes. It looks easy only because he's worked so hard.
"I think the willingness to put in the hours is the most important thing for succeeding in the NFL," says Gil Brandt, former Cowboys vice president of player personnel and current draft analyst for NFL.com. "When you look at the best QBs -- guys like Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Aaron Rodgers and Drew Brees -- what you see is that they work harder than anyone else. Their work ethic is what makes them great."
In recent years, Ericsson has become known for his calculation that true expertise in various fields, from QBs to cello players, requires about 10,000 hours of what he calls "deliberate practice." And deliberate practice is not fun.
It's not casual scrimmages or a game of catch in the backyard. Instead, it's a disciplined attempt to improve specific skills. For a quarterback, this might involve spending the weekend throwing hundreds of footballs through an old car tire while moving to the left or working for months on a few steps of footwork. Consider Peyton and Eli Manning. It would be easy to conclude that the brothers have some yet-to-be-discovered quarterback gene, a snippet of DNA that makes them suited for the pocket. In reality, according to Ericsson's model of expertise, the Mannings have excelled in the pros because they began throwing the football as toddlers, racking up hours of deliberate practice at an age when most kids haven't even touched a pigskin. It also didn't hurt that their father, Archie Manning, was a former NFL passer who provided them with invaluable instruction. Peyton and Eli weren't born with the ability to read defenses and throw a perfect spiral. Those "instincts" come only from a lifetime of training.
So, if talent comes from intuition, and reliable intuition comes from practice, then the trait that teams should really be measuring is how recruits practice. And the question they should be asking is, Why are some quarterbacks so much better at getting better? This notion of practice led Ericsson to collaborate with Angela Duckworth, a psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania. Duckworth is best known for her work on grit, a character trait that allows people to persist in the face of difficulty. A few years ago, she was commissioned by the Army to measure the grittiness of cadets at West Point. Although the academy is highly selective, about 5 percent of cadets drop out after the first summer of training, known as Beast Barracks. The Army has long searched for the variables that predict which cadets will graduate, but it wasn't until Duckworth tested them using a short questionnaire -- consisting of statements such as "Setbacks don't discourage me" or "I am diligent" -- that the Army found a measurement that actually worked. Duckworth has since repeated the survey with subsequent West Point classes, and the results are always the same: The cadets who graduate are the ones with grit.
In a new paper, Duckworth and Ericsson demonstrate that grit doesn't only keep people from dropping out, but it's also what allows them to become experts, to put in the hours of deliberate practice. The researchers tracked 190 participants at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. The first thing they discovered is that deliberate practice works. Student spellers who spent more time studying alone and memorizing words with the help of note cards performed much better than kids who were quizzed by friends or engaged in leisure reading. Duckworth and Ericsson also found that levels of grit determined how much the spellers were willing to practice. Grittier kids were able to engage in the most useful kinds of self-improvement, which is why they performed at a higher level. Woody Allen famously declared, "Eighty percent of success is showing up." And grit is what allows you to show up, again and again and again.
"I'd bet that there isn't a single highly successful person who hasn't depended on grit," says Duckworth. "Nobody is talented enough to not have to work hard, and that's what grit allows you to do. It lets you take advantage of your potential." For successful quarterbacks, grit is what allows them to watch hours of game tape on Monday mornings. It lets them remain in the weight room after everyone else has gone home. It's why they can practice the right way, not just the easy way. "In order to become a professional athlete, you need a certain kind of obsessiveness," Duckworth says. "You've got to devote your life to the development of this very narrow expertise. It shouldn't be surprising that this takes lots of grit."
The problem for the NFL is that instead of measuring grit, teams still subscribe to an antiquated model of talent and expertise in which innate gifts are presumed to matter the most. The scouting combine requires players entering the draft to perform a number of short physical and mental tasks (40-yard dash, Wonderlic, three-cone drill, bench-press reps, vertical jump) referred to by psychologists as "maximal measurements," since they measure people who are highly motivated to perform for short bursts of time. But to understand why those maximal tests at the combine don't predict performance in the pros, we must return to the nature of expertise. As Ericsson and Duckworth demonstrate, the most important kind of talent, emotional IQ, depends on measurements of sustained performance, on being able to engage in endless amounts of deliberate practice.
"Maybe they say he's too short or too slow or has a weak arm," Brandt says, "but the reality is that if a quarterback has the right work ethic, then he can probably make up for those problems." He points again to Brees, who wasn't drafted until the second round, and Brady, who was ignored until the sixth. "That's because teams have been looking at all the wrong things," Brandt says. "Just because you can measure it doesn't mean it matters."
Measuring grit does matter, but it's not easy. Grit can't be evaluated in a single afternoon; by definition, it's a metric of personality that involves performance over long periods of time. People don't reveal grit at the combine; they show it when no one else is around. "What coaches need is a way to test how players will perform over the entire season," Duckworth says. "Do they have what it takes to make themselves better? Will they benefit from criticism and feedback? If I were a coach, those are the questions I would care about."
This exercise captures why it's so important for quarterbacks to rely on their feelings and not their analytical intelligence. "QBs are tested on every single pass play," Hasselbeck says. "To be good at the position, you've got to know the answer before you even understand the question. You've got to be able to glance at a defense and recognize what's going on. And you've got to be able to do that when the left tackle gets beat and you're running away from a big lineman. That ability might not depend on real IQ, but it sure takes a lot of football IQ."
How QBs develop a more effective emotional brain is the question teams should be asking. The simple answer: work. Expertise requires lots of effort and repetition. K. Anders Ericsson, a psychologist at Florida State, studies expertise. Ericsson acknowledges the role of genetic gifts (physical and mental skills are not distributed equally at birth), but he believes that the overwhelming majority of expertise is earned. "There is virtually no evidence that expertise is due to genetic or innate factors," Ericsson says. "Rather, it strongly suggests that expertise requires huge amounts of effort and practice." This is because it takes time to train our feelings, to embed those useful patterns into the brain. Before a quarterback can find the open man, parsing the defense in a glance, he must spend years studying cornerbacks and crossing routes. It looks easy only because he's worked so hard.
"I think the willingness to put in the hours is the most important thing for succeeding in the NFL," says Gil Brandt, former Cowboys vice president of player personnel and current draft analyst for NFL.com. "When you look at the best QBs -- guys like Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Aaron Rodgers and Drew Brees -- what you see is that they work harder than anyone else. Their work ethic is what makes them great."
In recent years, Ericsson has become known for his calculation that true expertise in various fields, from QBs to cello players, requires about 10,000 hours of what he calls "deliberate practice." And deliberate practice is not fun.
It's not casual scrimmages or a game of catch in the backyard. Instead, it's a disciplined attempt to improve specific skills. For a quarterback, this might involve spending the weekend throwing hundreds of footballs through an old car tire while moving to the left or working for months on a few steps of footwork. Consider Peyton and Eli Manning. It would be easy to conclude that the brothers have some yet-to-be-discovered quarterback gene, a snippet of DNA that makes them suited for the pocket. In reality, according to Ericsson's model of expertise, the Mannings have excelled in the pros because they began throwing the football as toddlers, racking up hours of deliberate practice at an age when most kids haven't even touched a pigskin. It also didn't hurt that their father, Archie Manning, was a former NFL passer who provided them with invaluable instruction. Peyton and Eli weren't born with the ability to read defenses and throw a perfect spiral. Those "instincts" come only from a lifetime of training.
So, if talent comes from intuition, and reliable intuition comes from practice, then the trait that teams should really be measuring is how recruits practice. And the question they should be asking is, Why are some quarterbacks so much better at getting better? This notion of practice led Ericsson to collaborate with Angela Duckworth, a psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania. Duckworth is best known for her work on grit, a character trait that allows people to persist in the face of difficulty. A few years ago, she was commissioned by the Army to measure the grittiness of cadets at West Point. Although the academy is highly selective, about 5 percent of cadets drop out after the first summer of training, known as Beast Barracks. The Army has long searched for the variables that predict which cadets will graduate, but it wasn't until Duckworth tested them using a short questionnaire -- consisting of statements such as "Setbacks don't discourage me" or "I am diligent" -- that the Army found a measurement that actually worked. Duckworth has since repeated the survey with subsequent West Point classes, and the results are always the same: The cadets who graduate are the ones with grit.
In a new paper, Duckworth and Ericsson demonstrate that grit doesn't only keep people from dropping out, but it's also what allows them to become experts, to put in the hours of deliberate practice. The researchers tracked 190 participants at the Scripps National Spelling Bee. The first thing they discovered is that deliberate practice works. Student spellers who spent more time studying alone and memorizing words with the help of note cards performed much better than kids who were quizzed by friends or engaged in leisure reading. Duckworth and Ericsson also found that levels of grit determined how much the spellers were willing to practice. Grittier kids were able to engage in the most useful kinds of self-improvement, which is why they performed at a higher level. Woody Allen famously declared, "Eighty percent of success is showing up." And grit is what allows you to show up, again and again and again.
"I'd bet that there isn't a single highly successful person who hasn't depended on grit," says Duckworth. "Nobody is talented enough to not have to work hard, and that's what grit allows you to do. It lets you take advantage of your potential." For successful quarterbacks, grit is what allows them to watch hours of game tape on Monday mornings. It lets them remain in the weight room after everyone else has gone home. It's why they can practice the right way, not just the easy way. "In order to become a professional athlete, you need a certain kind of obsessiveness," Duckworth says. "You've got to devote your life to the development of this very narrow expertise. It shouldn't be surprising that this takes lots of grit."
The problem for the NFL is that instead of measuring grit, teams still subscribe to an antiquated model of talent and expertise in which innate gifts are presumed to matter the most. The scouting combine requires players entering the draft to perform a number of short physical and mental tasks (40-yard dash, Wonderlic, three-cone drill, bench-press reps, vertical jump) referred to by psychologists as "maximal measurements," since they measure people who are highly motivated to perform for short bursts of time. But to understand why those maximal tests at the combine don't predict performance in the pros, we must return to the nature of expertise. As Ericsson and Duckworth demonstrate, the most important kind of talent, emotional IQ, depends on measurements of sustained performance, on being able to engage in endless amounts of deliberate practice.
"Maybe they say he's too short or too slow or has a weak arm," Brandt says, "but the reality is that if a quarterback has the right work ethic, then he can probably make up for those problems." He points again to Brees, who wasn't drafted until the second round, and Brady, who was ignored until the sixth. "That's because teams have been looking at all the wrong things," Brandt says. "Just because you can measure it doesn't mean it matters."
Measuring grit does matter, but it's not easy. Grit can't be evaluated in a single afternoon; by definition, it's a metric of personality that involves performance over long periods of time. People don't reveal grit at the combine; they show it when no one else is around. "What coaches need is a way to test how players will perform over the entire season," Duckworth says. "Do they have what it takes to make themselves better? Will they benefit from criticism and feedback? If I were a coach, those are the questions I would care about."
4.04.2011
MATT HOWARD & BUTLER KEEP WINNING
Butler is not to be trusted in this Final Four. It pretends to be a guppy but has a piranha's appetite. Underdog? Please. Butler is the favorite now, and a lot of us know it. Whatever you do, don't pet it.
Its cover is blown after last year's Final Four. We all know how it works. Butler wants you to think it's something it's not. Take its heart, senior forward Matt Howard, who looks more like a geeky band-camp RA than a possible NBA first rounder. If Ichabod Crane played hoops, he'd look like this. He's 93 percent elbow and the rest Adam's apple. He's got so many juts, you could hang tinsel off him.
He's the Academic All-American of the Year in Division I. He's so nerdy, you look at him and think, "What's the worst he's going to do to us? Reprogram our iPhones to Chinese?"
Look at those socks. They lost their elastic years ago. And those sad shoes! If those shoes were your couch, it'd be in the alley now.
"He has six pairs of brand-new shoes in his locker," teammate Shelvin Mack says. "But he won't wear them! He just keeps wearing those ratty old ones."
And what's that on his head? Arugula?
"That's just the hair I woke up with," he says, trying to run his fingers through it and getting stopped by grease. "Whatever it looks like in the morning, that's what I go with for the day." He gets it cut once a year, for free, by a teammate, whether it needs it or not. He rides a rusted-out bike to Butler's 6 a.m. practices, even in the dead of winter, even through ice storms, even though the handlebars suddenly bent under him the other day catapulting him onto the ice.
"I fixed it," says Howard, who stands 6-foot-8 and 230, most of it bone. "Just poured some WD-40 in there and bent them back. It's a little risky to ride, I guess, but I can't see buying a new one."
Kid, you'd never fit in the SEC.
Not that it matters. Howard has more drive than some GM plants. He's driven Butler to back-to-back Final Fours, a feat never before accomplished by an Indiana school. Not Indiana. Not Purdue. Not Notre Dame.
The Bulldogs wouldn't be anywhere near Houston without Howard. He's the designated floor diver, the insatiable rebounder, the guy who sets the kind of picks that would stop an Amtrak train. He once set a pick on Duke's Kyle Singler that sent Singler bouncing backward 180 degrees and onto his nose.
When the Bulldogs needed a tip-in at the buzzer in their opening NCAA tournament game this year against Old Dominion, Howard gave it to them.
When the Bulldogs needed one free throw to win their third-round game against No. 1 seed Pittsburgh, Howard gave it to them.
When the Bulldogs needed a monster in the Sweet 16 against Wisconsin, Howard gave them 20 and 12.
And when the Bulldogs needed somebody in the Elite 8 to launch himself headlong into a pile to tie up the ball and win the game against Florida, Howard and his boneyard body gave it to them.
"Matt Howard will be an NBA player," says Butler's bespectacled coach, Brad Stevens. "His team would be winning wherever he went. That's who he is. He makes teams better. He's a winner. Whenever I have to answer questions about what's his real height, how long is he, [I just say], 'He wins. He just wins.'"
Well, not always. Butler looked as confused as Howard's hair for a while this season. It lost three straight games in the anemic Horizon League. Houston looked farther than the moon then. The third loss was 62-60 to Youngstown State on Feb. 3.
"That's why I'd say this trip [to another Final Four] just feels a little better than the last time," Howard says. "Because when you think about where we came from, how far down we were, standing in that Youngstown gym, man, I can't tell you how bad I felt."
Howard is used to getting beat up. He's one of 10 kids of a Connersville, Ind., mail carrier. He's got four older brothers with the same kind of pickax elbows. He knows how it works: You bleed, you find a towel, you play some more. He rededicated himself and the Bulldogs got through it. Since those three losses, they've won 13 straight. Now they're 80 minutes from a national championship.
Through it all, Howard kept on being what Mack calls "the weirdest person I've ever met in my entire life."
"Like, remember that UConn-Syracuse game [in 2009] that went six overtimes?" teammate Ron Nored asks. "Well, after the third one, he texts me: 'Do you think Buffalo Wild Wings had anything to do with this?'"
You ask Howard what's up and he'll say, "The ceiling." Tell him your name and he'll reverse the letters the rest of your life. Shelvin Mack is permanently Melvin Shack. Together, they'd like to go to Dan Siego someday. Perhaps they'll see girls wearing "skini mirts."
Who cares? On the court, he gets it right. He's the thing you love most in a college basketball player -- a guy who just wants to win and doesn't care who gets the credit. A guy who hits class by day and glass by night. A scabbed-knee grinder who finishes every game with his tank on E.
That's Hatt Moward in a shut nell.
Its cover is blown after last year's Final Four. We all know how it works. Butler wants you to think it's something it's not. Take its heart, senior forward Matt Howard, who looks more like a geeky band-camp RA than a possible NBA first rounder. If Ichabod Crane played hoops, he'd look like this. He's 93 percent elbow and the rest Adam's apple. He's got so many juts, you could hang tinsel off him.
He's the Academic All-American of the Year in Division I. He's so nerdy, you look at him and think, "What's the worst he's going to do to us? Reprogram our iPhones to Chinese?"
Look at those socks. They lost their elastic years ago. And those sad shoes! If those shoes were your couch, it'd be in the alley now.
"He has six pairs of brand-new shoes in his locker," teammate Shelvin Mack says. "But he won't wear them! He just keeps wearing those ratty old ones."
And what's that on his head? Arugula?
"That's just the hair I woke up with," he says, trying to run his fingers through it and getting stopped by grease. "Whatever it looks like in the morning, that's what I go with for the day." He gets it cut once a year, for free, by a teammate, whether it needs it or not. He rides a rusted-out bike to Butler's 6 a.m. practices, even in the dead of winter, even through ice storms, even though the handlebars suddenly bent under him the other day catapulting him onto the ice.
"I fixed it," says Howard, who stands 6-foot-8 and 230, most of it bone. "Just poured some WD-40 in there and bent them back. It's a little risky to ride, I guess, but I can't see buying a new one."
Kid, you'd never fit in the SEC.
Not that it matters. Howard has more drive than some GM plants. He's driven Butler to back-to-back Final Fours, a feat never before accomplished by an Indiana school. Not Indiana. Not Purdue. Not Notre Dame.
The Bulldogs wouldn't be anywhere near Houston without Howard. He's the designated floor diver, the insatiable rebounder, the guy who sets the kind of picks that would stop an Amtrak train. He once set a pick on Duke's Kyle Singler that sent Singler bouncing backward 180 degrees and onto his nose.
When the Bulldogs needed a tip-in at the buzzer in their opening NCAA tournament game this year against Old Dominion, Howard gave it to them.
When the Bulldogs needed one free throw to win their third-round game against No. 1 seed Pittsburgh, Howard gave it to them.
When the Bulldogs needed a monster in the Sweet 16 against Wisconsin, Howard gave them 20 and 12.
And when the Bulldogs needed somebody in the Elite 8 to launch himself headlong into a pile to tie up the ball and win the game against Florida, Howard and his boneyard body gave it to them.
"Matt Howard will be an NBA player," says Butler's bespectacled coach, Brad Stevens. "His team would be winning wherever he went. That's who he is. He makes teams better. He's a winner. Whenever I have to answer questions about what's his real height, how long is he, [I just say], 'He wins. He just wins.'"
Well, not always. Butler looked as confused as Howard's hair for a while this season. It lost three straight games in the anemic Horizon League. Houston looked farther than the moon then. The third loss was 62-60 to Youngstown State on Feb. 3.
"That's why I'd say this trip [to another Final Four] just feels a little better than the last time," Howard says. "Because when you think about where we came from, how far down we were, standing in that Youngstown gym, man, I can't tell you how bad I felt."
Howard is used to getting beat up. He's one of 10 kids of a Connersville, Ind., mail carrier. He's got four older brothers with the same kind of pickax elbows. He knows how it works: You bleed, you find a towel, you play some more. He rededicated himself and the Bulldogs got through it. Since those three losses, they've won 13 straight. Now they're 80 minutes from a national championship.
Through it all, Howard kept on being what Mack calls "the weirdest person I've ever met in my entire life."
"Like, remember that UConn-Syracuse game [in 2009] that went six overtimes?" teammate Ron Nored asks. "Well, after the third one, he texts me: 'Do you think Buffalo Wild Wings had anything to do with this?'"
You ask Howard what's up and he'll say, "The ceiling." Tell him your name and he'll reverse the letters the rest of your life. Shelvin Mack is permanently Melvin Shack. Together, they'd like to go to Dan Siego someday. Perhaps they'll see girls wearing "skini mirts."
Who cares? On the court, he gets it right. He's the thing you love most in a college basketball player -- a guy who just wants to win and doesn't care who gets the credit. A guy who hits class by day and glass by night. A scabbed-knee grinder who finishes every game with his tank on E.
That's Hatt Moward in a shut nell.
4.03.2011
BRANDON KNIGHT - MATURE BEYOND HIS YEARS
Down 11 points with three minutes left in a regional final game, Brandon Knight stood among his high school teammates. Their heads were hanging. Their dream of a run to the Florida state championship was evaporating and they looked like they had pretty much given up.
Instead of screaming or reaching for some bombastic fire and brimstone, Knight looked directly at his coach, David Beckerman.
"He said to me, but loud enough for everyone to hear, 'What time is practice tomorrow?'" Beckerman recalled.
After the huddle broke, Knight drained three 3-pointers, picked up a charge and a steal, dished out three assists and finished with 52 points. Pine Crest not only went to the state championship game; the tony school known for its academic muscle also won the thing.
Brandon Knight saved Kentucky's bacon with the last-second shot that beat Princeton.
That is how Knight does business.
He sticks hard to Theodore Roosevelt's motto of speak softly and carry a big stick. Knight isn't going to overwhelm anyone with effusive or entertaining postgame interviews. He has Josh Harrellson to do that.
He isn't going to hop on press tables and point to the crowd after a big win. DeAndre Liggins can handle that chore.
Nor is he going to stare down an opposing bench and signal his made 3-pointer. Let Terrence Jones do that.
No, what Knight is going to do is simply beat you in every imaginable way.
In the four NCAA tournament games he's played, in his first college season, Knight has delivered the direct dagger with two buzzer-beaters -- stunning Princeton on a drive to the hoop and Ohio State with a pull-up jumper -- and the indirect blow of 30 points against West Virginia and a masterful 22 against North Carolina.
Knight comes to Houston overshadowed by the impossible story of VCU versus Butler and the star power of Kemba Walker, but could easily exit this city as the most important player on the floor.
"He's the anchor of that team and he does it very well," said North Carolina point guard Kendall Marshall. "I think he's shown throughout his career what kind of player he is."
Being the starting point guard at Kentucky isn't for the faint of heart. It is an all-eyes-on-you position that requires equal parts confidence and equal parts soundproofing -- the belief that you are good enough to handle the job and the noise blockers to keep out the criticism that invariably comes when you fail to do so.
Knight is the star now, the kid who has delivered on the promise of his high school hype -- he was a consensus top-five player in his class -- but for a while, he was the collegiate kid who missed. When Kentucky was finding itself, suffering the growing pains of a team in transition, it was Knight who had the ball three times in critical games in critical situations.
Three times he failed. Against Alabama, it was a late turnover, and against both Florida and Arkansas, his would-be winning 3-pointers fell short.
That coach John Calipari still put the ball in his hand in the two most critical moments of the season -- tied with two seconds left against Princeton and tied with Ohio State with five seconds left -- tells you all you need to know about Knight.
"Why I put the ball in his hands, is because he is not afraid to miss it," John Calipari said. "If you really want to be that guy, you have no fear if you miss. If I miss, I miss, but I am not afraid to miss this shot. Life will not end."
Calipari knows a thing or two about brazen point guards. Knight is just the latest hoops prodigy to handle the ball for the coach, following in the gilded footsteps of Derrick Rose, Tyreke Evans and John Wall. But it is Knight whom the coach calls "the most conscientious, hardworking player I've ever been around."
That's some heady praise, but praise echoed by Beckerman, a man who knows a thing or two about exceptional.
In 1971, Beckerman founded the Starter apparel company and is a former trustee on the Naismith Hall of Fame board.
"He's very rare," Beckerman said of Knight. "A very rare kid."
Pine Crest isn't a basketball factory. If anything it's a nerd factory. The Class of 2010 alone produced 18 national merit scholar finalists.
Before Knight arrived on campus, basketball was nothing more than a convenient extracurricular. The team had never sniffed a state title.
Knight not only toted the academic load with aplomb -- he carried an AP-loaded, weighted GPA of 4.3 out of high school and, while listed as a freshman, is technically a sophomore at Kentucky -- but he basically birthed a basketball program.
In his five years at Pine Crest (he started on the varsity as an eighth grader), the school won two state titles and competed for two more.
Yet as much time as he'd log in the gym, Knight never became basketball-centric. He possesses an inquisitiveness that isn't typically found among teenagers, let alone those whose free time is consumed by sport.
"He wants to know about the world around him and know about the world that's going to affect him," Beckerman said. "Listen to what I just said: He wants to know about the world that's going to affect him. If he asks questions about the financial world, it's because at some point it's going to matter to him."
A would-be architect or engineer if he had his druthers, Knight brings the same sort of brainpower to basketball. Like most high school point guards, he was used to being more of a scorer than a distributor, averaging 32 points in his high school career.
At Kentucky he's had to do both.
Oh, and he's had to play defense, which comes about as naturally to college rookies as ice skating comes to Arizonans.
He wasn't great at either to begin with, and Calipari isn't one to let that sort of thing go unnoticed. Hard on all his players, the coach said he was probably hardest on Knight, demanding that he worry more about running the team than finding his points.
His can be a downright wilting criticism, especially when partnered with what was by Kentucky standards a so-so season around mid-February.
Yet Knight was smart enough to understand what was going on and mature enough to handle it.
"There's always tough times," he said. "Every player has tough times and points when you've had enough, but you have to be able to push through it. You have to have tough skin and let some things go. You have to take some of that as motivation and just ignore the rest, and you have to know the difference, when to listen and when to move on."
So Knight simply did what he has always done: He worked. It is no coincidence that as Knight has figured out his role, Kentucky has figured out its game.
During the 10-game winning streak that has so far taken the Wildcats to an SEC tournament title and the Final Four, Knight is averaging 16.1 points as well as 4.5 assists, figuring out finally how to score and dish with equal success.
And a kid that Calipari said "never spoke" in high school has become a vocal, if not theatrical, leader for the Wildcats.
He may not say much, but when he does, he means it.
Instead of screaming or reaching for some bombastic fire and brimstone, Knight looked directly at his coach, David Beckerman.
"He said to me, but loud enough for everyone to hear, 'What time is practice tomorrow?'" Beckerman recalled.
After the huddle broke, Knight drained three 3-pointers, picked up a charge and a steal, dished out three assists and finished with 52 points. Pine Crest not only went to the state championship game; the tony school known for its academic muscle also won the thing.
Brandon Knight saved Kentucky's bacon with the last-second shot that beat Princeton.
That is how Knight does business.
He sticks hard to Theodore Roosevelt's motto of speak softly and carry a big stick. Knight isn't going to overwhelm anyone with effusive or entertaining postgame interviews. He has Josh Harrellson to do that.
He isn't going to hop on press tables and point to the crowd after a big win. DeAndre Liggins can handle that chore.
Nor is he going to stare down an opposing bench and signal his made 3-pointer. Let Terrence Jones do that.
No, what Knight is going to do is simply beat you in every imaginable way.
In the four NCAA tournament games he's played, in his first college season, Knight has delivered the direct dagger with two buzzer-beaters -- stunning Princeton on a drive to the hoop and Ohio State with a pull-up jumper -- and the indirect blow of 30 points against West Virginia and a masterful 22 against North Carolina.
Knight comes to Houston overshadowed by the impossible story of VCU versus Butler and the star power of Kemba Walker, but could easily exit this city as the most important player on the floor.
"He's the anchor of that team and he does it very well," said North Carolina point guard Kendall Marshall. "I think he's shown throughout his career what kind of player he is."
Being the starting point guard at Kentucky isn't for the faint of heart. It is an all-eyes-on-you position that requires equal parts confidence and equal parts soundproofing -- the belief that you are good enough to handle the job and the noise blockers to keep out the criticism that invariably comes when you fail to do so.
Knight is the star now, the kid who has delivered on the promise of his high school hype -- he was a consensus top-five player in his class -- but for a while, he was the collegiate kid who missed. When Kentucky was finding itself, suffering the growing pains of a team in transition, it was Knight who had the ball three times in critical games in critical situations.
Three times he failed. Against Alabama, it was a late turnover, and against both Florida and Arkansas, his would-be winning 3-pointers fell short.
That coach John Calipari still put the ball in his hand in the two most critical moments of the season -- tied with two seconds left against Princeton and tied with Ohio State with five seconds left -- tells you all you need to know about Knight.
"Why I put the ball in his hands, is because he is not afraid to miss it," John Calipari said. "If you really want to be that guy, you have no fear if you miss. If I miss, I miss, but I am not afraid to miss this shot. Life will not end."
Calipari knows a thing or two about brazen point guards. Knight is just the latest hoops prodigy to handle the ball for the coach, following in the gilded footsteps of Derrick Rose, Tyreke Evans and John Wall. But it is Knight whom the coach calls "the most conscientious, hardworking player I've ever been around."
That's some heady praise, but praise echoed by Beckerman, a man who knows a thing or two about exceptional.
In 1971, Beckerman founded the Starter apparel company and is a former trustee on the Naismith Hall of Fame board.
"He's very rare," Beckerman said of Knight. "A very rare kid."
Pine Crest isn't a basketball factory. If anything it's a nerd factory. The Class of 2010 alone produced 18 national merit scholar finalists.
Before Knight arrived on campus, basketball was nothing more than a convenient extracurricular. The team had never sniffed a state title.
Knight not only toted the academic load with aplomb -- he carried an AP-loaded, weighted GPA of 4.3 out of high school and, while listed as a freshman, is technically a sophomore at Kentucky -- but he basically birthed a basketball program.
In his five years at Pine Crest (he started on the varsity as an eighth grader), the school won two state titles and competed for two more.
Yet as much time as he'd log in the gym, Knight never became basketball-centric. He possesses an inquisitiveness that isn't typically found among teenagers, let alone those whose free time is consumed by sport.
"He wants to know about the world around him and know about the world that's going to affect him," Beckerman said. "Listen to what I just said: He wants to know about the world that's going to affect him. If he asks questions about the financial world, it's because at some point it's going to matter to him."
A would-be architect or engineer if he had his druthers, Knight brings the same sort of brainpower to basketball. Like most high school point guards, he was used to being more of a scorer than a distributor, averaging 32 points in his high school career.
At Kentucky he's had to do both.
Oh, and he's had to play defense, which comes about as naturally to college rookies as ice skating comes to Arizonans.
He wasn't great at either to begin with, and Calipari isn't one to let that sort of thing go unnoticed. Hard on all his players, the coach said he was probably hardest on Knight, demanding that he worry more about running the team than finding his points.
His can be a downright wilting criticism, especially when partnered with what was by Kentucky standards a so-so season around mid-February.
Yet Knight was smart enough to understand what was going on and mature enough to handle it.
"There's always tough times," he said. "Every player has tough times and points when you've had enough, but you have to be able to push through it. You have to have tough skin and let some things go. You have to take some of that as motivation and just ignore the rest, and you have to know the difference, when to listen and when to move on."
So Knight simply did what he has always done: He worked. It is no coincidence that as Knight has figured out his role, Kentucky has figured out its game.
During the 10-game winning streak that has so far taken the Wildcats to an SEC tournament title and the Final Four, Knight is averaging 16.1 points as well as 4.5 assists, figuring out finally how to score and dish with equal success.
And a kid that Calipari said "never spoke" in high school has become a vocal, if not theatrical, leader for the Wildcats.
He may not say much, but when he does, he means it.
BUTLER IS BACK IN THE TOURNAMENT
Butler's back.
The scrappy school from Indianapolis that came within two points of a national title last season and weathered a rocky ride this season will return to the NCAA tournament owning another big winning streak.
Matt Howard scored 18 points and Shelvin Mack added 14 to lead the Bulldogs to a 59-44 victory over Wisconsin-Milwaukee on Tuesday night for its third Horizon League tournament title in the past four years. Butler has won nine straight games overall.
"It doesn't get old. It's not easy to win this game, it really isn't," said Howard, the tournament MVP. "We knew it was going to be rocking in here. The key is to jump on them, and we had to jump on them. We talked about that."
Fast Facts
Butler (23-9) will get a chance to be the talk of the nation again and duplicate its wild run last year to the NCAA championship game that ended with a loss to Duke.
In the process, the Bulldogs avenged losing to Milwaukee (19-13) for the third time this season.
"I thought we made some tough shots, I think we did some tough things," Butler coach Brad Stevens said. "It doesn't hurt when somebody beats you twice. You're pretty on edge and also, you've got to change, you've got to do something different. And we did."
The Panthers got 10 points apiece from Tone Boyle, Tony Meier and Anthony Hill, but couldn't overcome a terrible shooting night, finishing 30 percent from the field. Milwaukee made its move when Ryan Allen's layup cut it to 42-39, but Butler answered with a 16-1 run and held the Panthers without a field goal for more than 7½ minutes.
"We didn't shoot the ball well, and we had some good looks," Milwaukee coach Rob Jeter said. "You're not going to win many games shooting the percentages that we shot. It's unfortunate it happened in this game."
"You can't be satisfied with where you are, just because you won a championship. There's more out there if you do the right things," Howard said. "We know what it takes, you can't relax now, I think that's key."
"It's been a trademark of our program I think to withstand the storm and just be resilient," Stevens said. "Last year in the tournament, that fairy tale would've never been written if we didn't have that trait."
Butler opened up a big lead using a 14-0 first-half run after a stifling defensive effort and outworked Milwaukee, never more apparent than when the Bulldogs got two offensive rebounds on one possession before Smith's layup put Butler ahead 33-20 at the half.
The Panthers, wearing bright, bumblebee-striped yellow shoes, were looking for their fourth NCAA tournament appearance and had handed the Bulldogs their worst loss in nearly six years in early January, a glimpse of promise in an up-and-down beginning to conference play.
The Bulldogs will once again be representing the Horizon League despite having as many black and blue moments as their uniforms this season.
Injuries on top of the departures of conference player of the year Gordon Hayward, Avery Jukes and Willie Veasley appeared to bring Butler down after a 14-9 start. Three players have missed time with concussions and Mack failed to finish several games early in the year with cramps.
The scrappy school from Indianapolis that came within two points of a national title last season and weathered a rocky ride this season will return to the NCAA tournament owning another big winning streak.
Matt Howard scored 18 points and Shelvin Mack added 14 to lead the Bulldogs to a 59-44 victory over Wisconsin-Milwaukee on Tuesday night for its third Horizon League tournament title in the past four years. Butler has won nine straight games overall.
"It doesn't get old. It's not easy to win this game, it really isn't," said Howard, the tournament MVP. "We knew it was going to be rocking in here. The key is to jump on them, and we had to jump on them. We talked about that."
Fast Facts
Butler (23-9) will get a chance to be the talk of the nation again and duplicate its wild run last year to the NCAA championship game that ended with a loss to Duke.
In the process, the Bulldogs avenged losing to Milwaukee (19-13) for the third time this season.
"I thought we made some tough shots, I think we did some tough things," Butler coach Brad Stevens said. "It doesn't hurt when somebody beats you twice. You're pretty on edge and also, you've got to change, you've got to do something different. And we did."
The Panthers got 10 points apiece from Tone Boyle, Tony Meier and Anthony Hill, but couldn't overcome a terrible shooting night, finishing 30 percent from the field. Milwaukee made its move when Ryan Allen's layup cut it to 42-39, but Butler answered with a 16-1 run and held the Panthers without a field goal for more than 7½ minutes.
"We didn't shoot the ball well, and we had some good looks," Milwaukee coach Rob Jeter said. "You're not going to win many games shooting the percentages that we shot. It's unfortunate it happened in this game."
"You can't be satisfied with where you are, just because you won a championship. There's more out there if you do the right things," Howard said. "We know what it takes, you can't relax now, I think that's key."
"It's been a trademark of our program I think to withstand the storm and just be resilient," Stevens said. "Last year in the tournament, that fairy tale would've never been written if we didn't have that trait."
Butler opened up a big lead using a 14-0 first-half run after a stifling defensive effort and outworked Milwaukee, never more apparent than when the Bulldogs got two offensive rebounds on one possession before Smith's layup put Butler ahead 33-20 at the half.
The Panthers, wearing bright, bumblebee-striped yellow shoes, were looking for their fourth NCAA tournament appearance and had handed the Bulldogs their worst loss in nearly six years in early January, a glimpse of promise in an up-and-down beginning to conference play.
The Bulldogs will once again be representing the Horizon League despite having as many black and blue moments as their uniforms this season.
Injuries on top of the departures of conference player of the year Gordon Hayward, Avery Jukes and Willie Veasley appeared to bring Butler down after a 14-9 start. Three players have missed time with concussions and Mack failed to finish several games early in the year with cramps.
BUTLER OVERCOMES EARLY SEASON STRUGGLES
The question that comes to mind is not how Butler got back to the Elite Eight, but rather how did these Bulldogs lose to Evansville and Youngstown State?
The reason is the Bulldogs weren’t perfect this season. They were flawed like every other team. They needed to go through some growing pains, and mercy, have they grown -- a team that started 6-5 in the Horizon League is one win away from another Final Four appearance after beating Wisconsin 61-54 on Thursday night. Meanwhile, Duke -- the team that beat Butler in a thrilling national championship game -- is out of the field after being pummeled by Arizona.
“I thought this team had a chance to be a good team, but even I’ve been unbelievably impressed with its resiliency and ability to play at a higher level,’’ said the calmest coach in Division I, Butler’s Brad Stevens.
“When we lost to Youngstown and to Evansville, it was a few possessions that we didn’t control,’’ added Butler junior guard Shelvin Mack. “We didn’t dive on the ball, we didn’t take charges, we didn’t do the things we needed to win.’’
Well, the Bulldogs haven’t lost since their Feb. 3 defeat to a Youngstown State team that finished 2-16 in conference play. And that includes a road win over Milwaukee -- a team that beat Butler twice this season -- in the Horizon League championship to secure a bid.
Since the tournament started, the Bulldogs have made winning plays in the final seconds. Against Old Dominion, Matt Howard made a last-second bucket. Against Pitt, Howard's rebound and subsequent free throw saved the game after a foul by Mack nearly cost Butler the match.
“The foul is over. I keep telling my teammates that, to let it go and move onto the next one,’’ said Mack, in jest. “Yeah, it’s been crazy, there were just a few plays here and there in the first game or we’d be home, and then a few plays here or there in the second game against Pitt or we’d be home. So we wanted to make sure we got off to a fast start.’’
And they did just that. Butler busted out on Wisconsin with a nine-point halftime lead and grew it to 20 in the second half before UW mounted a furious comeback to make it a one-possession game in the final minute. But then Mack hit yet another jumper, and after he missed a free throw a possession later, Howard was there with an offensive rebound. The senior forward finished with 20 points and 12 boards
Butler now faces Florida here at New Orleans Arena on Saturday, with a trip to Houston on the line.
“They’re scrappy, relentless,’’ said Wisconsin junior guard Jordan Taylor. “I don’t know, they’re just tough kids. They never quit. That’s what makes them winners.’’
Taylor finished with 22, but Wisconsin senior forward Jon Leuer was pestered so much defensively that he finished just 1-of-12 from the field. As a team, the Badgers shot 30.4 percent, their second-worst performance of the season.
“They’re just tough kids that are all-around good players,’’ Leuer said. “They play to their strengths.’’
Butler is hardly some cuddly, lower-profile team. You can't name a lock for the NBA draft on the Pitt team, but Mack is a first-round pick and Howard, at the very least, is a second-round pick, according to multiple NBA decision-makers. So that would mean that in the past two seasons the Bulldogs will have produced three NBA players, three more than Pitt and at least one more than Wisconsin.
But Butler still had to earn its NCAA tournament berth the hard way, since the Horizon League does not receive much respect. Losing five conference games changed the perception of this team. The nonconference slate was rugged, with games at Louisville and Xavier and against Duke in New Jersey -- all losses. But let’s not forget that Butler did win the Diamond Head Classic by taking down Florida State and Washington State; the former is in the Sweet 16 and the latter in the NIT Final Four.
“We played Valparaiso early in the year and we lost and we gave up 60 points in a half,’’ Mack said. “That’s not us. We usually don’t give up 60 points in a game. We knew what we had to get back.’’
Howard added that he isn't shocked by Butler’s recent run of 12 straight wins.
“I knew what this team was capable of,’’ Howard said. “I knew the type of guys we had and [what we're capable of] if we buy into Coach’s game plan and are able to execute it.’’
Junior guard Ronald Nored said the Bulldogs found their sense of urgency after some ugly games in league play. He added that when the Bulldogs lost three in a row (to Milwaukee, Valparaiso and Youngstown State), “it set us up for what we’re doing now.’’
“People like to put down our conference, but it’s tough,’’ said senior guard Shawn Vanzant. “The coaches got on us to lock teams down.’’
And that’s exactly what occurred against Wisconsin. Stevens said he knew this week that the Bulldogs were playing at a different clip defensively.
“I was concerned about getting out to those shooters because once Taylor comes off those ball screens you have to pay attention to the guys out there,’’ Stevens said. “Once I saw the way we were rotating out there, I knew we’d be a tough out.’’
So at the end of the night, Butler is 40 minutes away from the Final Four. And Duke is done. Who had that?
“That’s this tournament,’’ Stevens said.
It is unforgiving for the losers. And for the team that can make plays, winning plays -- like Arizona did against Duke for most of its game, and the way Butler did to Wisconsin both early and late -- the tournament can be an incredible natural high.
“Teams go through lulls, and we were in a deep one,’’ Howard said. “Fortunately, this team came together, and no doubt we went through a stretch that looked like we could have had a mediocre season. But we didn’t. I’m very, very proud to be a part of this team.’’
The reason is the Bulldogs weren’t perfect this season. They were flawed like every other team. They needed to go through some growing pains, and mercy, have they grown -- a team that started 6-5 in the Horizon League is one win away from another Final Four appearance after beating Wisconsin 61-54 on Thursday night. Meanwhile, Duke -- the team that beat Butler in a thrilling national championship game -- is out of the field after being pummeled by Arizona.
“I thought this team had a chance to be a good team, but even I’ve been unbelievably impressed with its resiliency and ability to play at a higher level,’’ said the calmest coach in Division I, Butler’s Brad Stevens.
“When we lost to Youngstown and to Evansville, it was a few possessions that we didn’t control,’’ added Butler junior guard Shelvin Mack. “We didn’t dive on the ball, we didn’t take charges, we didn’t do the things we needed to win.’’
Well, the Bulldogs haven’t lost since their Feb. 3 defeat to a Youngstown State team that finished 2-16 in conference play. And that includes a road win over Milwaukee -- a team that beat Butler twice this season -- in the Horizon League championship to secure a bid.
Since the tournament started, the Bulldogs have made winning plays in the final seconds. Against Old Dominion, Matt Howard made a last-second bucket. Against Pitt, Howard's rebound and subsequent free throw saved the game after a foul by Mack nearly cost Butler the match.
“The foul is over. I keep telling my teammates that, to let it go and move onto the next one,’’ said Mack, in jest. “Yeah, it’s been crazy, there were just a few plays here and there in the first game or we’d be home, and then a few plays here or there in the second game against Pitt or we’d be home. So we wanted to make sure we got off to a fast start.’’
And they did just that. Butler busted out on Wisconsin with a nine-point halftime lead and grew it to 20 in the second half before UW mounted a furious comeback to make it a one-possession game in the final minute. But then Mack hit yet another jumper, and after he missed a free throw a possession later, Howard was there with an offensive rebound. The senior forward finished with 20 points and 12 boards
Butler now faces Florida here at New Orleans Arena on Saturday, with a trip to Houston on the line.
“They’re scrappy, relentless,’’ said Wisconsin junior guard Jordan Taylor. “I don’t know, they’re just tough kids. They never quit. That’s what makes them winners.’’
Taylor finished with 22, but Wisconsin senior forward Jon Leuer was pestered so much defensively that he finished just 1-of-12 from the field. As a team, the Badgers shot 30.4 percent, their second-worst performance of the season.
“They’re just tough kids that are all-around good players,’’ Leuer said. “They play to their strengths.’’
Butler is hardly some cuddly, lower-profile team. You can't name a lock for the NBA draft on the Pitt team, but Mack is a first-round pick and Howard, at the very least, is a second-round pick, according to multiple NBA decision-makers. So that would mean that in the past two seasons the Bulldogs will have produced three NBA players, three more than Pitt and at least one more than Wisconsin.
But Butler still had to earn its NCAA tournament berth the hard way, since the Horizon League does not receive much respect. Losing five conference games changed the perception of this team. The nonconference slate was rugged, with games at Louisville and Xavier and against Duke in New Jersey -- all losses. But let’s not forget that Butler did win the Diamond Head Classic by taking down Florida State and Washington State; the former is in the Sweet 16 and the latter in the NIT Final Four.
“We played Valparaiso early in the year and we lost and we gave up 60 points in a half,’’ Mack said. “That’s not us. We usually don’t give up 60 points in a game. We knew what we had to get back.’’
Howard added that he isn't shocked by Butler’s recent run of 12 straight wins.
“I knew what this team was capable of,’’ Howard said. “I knew the type of guys we had and [what we're capable of] if we buy into Coach’s game plan and are able to execute it.’’
Junior guard Ronald Nored said the Bulldogs found their sense of urgency after some ugly games in league play. He added that when the Bulldogs lost three in a row (to Milwaukee, Valparaiso and Youngstown State), “it set us up for what we’re doing now.’’
“People like to put down our conference, but it’s tough,’’ said senior guard Shawn Vanzant. “The coaches got on us to lock teams down.’’
And that’s exactly what occurred against Wisconsin. Stevens said he knew this week that the Bulldogs were playing at a different clip defensively.
“I was concerned about getting out to those shooters because once Taylor comes off those ball screens you have to pay attention to the guys out there,’’ Stevens said. “Once I saw the way we were rotating out there, I knew we’d be a tough out.’’
So at the end of the night, Butler is 40 minutes away from the Final Four. And Duke is done. Who had that?
“That’s this tournament,’’ Stevens said.
It is unforgiving for the losers. And for the team that can make plays, winning plays -- like Arizona did against Duke for most of its game, and the way Butler did to Wisconsin both early and late -- the tournament can be an incredible natural high.
“Teams go through lulls, and we were in a deep one,’’ Howard said. “Fortunately, this team came together, and no doubt we went through a stretch that looked like we could have had a mediocre season. But we didn’t. I’m very, very proud to be a part of this team.’’
A year later, Butler one up on Duke
On April 5, 2010, with a national title on the line, Duke and Butler sparred in Indianapolis for 40 minutes. In the end, Gordon Hayward's last-second, half-court heave missed by inches. Duke won the national title. Butler ended its storybook run with a real-world ending.
Eight months later, on Dec. 4, the two teams met in New Jersey. Butler played Duke closer than most expected, but the Blue Devils -- helped in part by some debilitating cramps from Butler guard Shelvin Mack -- pulled away late en route to an 82-70 win.
On Feb. 3 of this year, Duke was 20-2. Butler was 14-9. That ninth loss came on Feb. 3, when Butler, in the ugliest moment of what to that point had been a shockingly ugly year, lost to Youngstown State -- yes, last-place Youngstown State. It was the fifth Horizon League loss of the season for coach Brad Stevens. The Butler of 2010 was nowhere to be found.
Last season Matt Howard and Butler had to watch Duke celebrate a national title, but the Bulldogs have outlasted the Blue Devils in 2011.
If someone hopped told you that Butler would outlast Duke in the 2011 NCAA tournament, you would have had that person committed to a highly respected psychiatric facility. And not just because of the time-travel talk.
Just seven weeks later, well, that's where we are. Butler is in the Elite Eight. Duke is not. In case you needed another reminder that college basketball predictions are a foolhardy enterprise -- not that you did -- you won't do much better than Thursday night's simultaneous Sweet 16 action.
Perhaps it was fitting -- or ironic, or coincidental, or all three -- that these two teams' trajectories led them to this night. Duke rolled through much of the regular season as one of the national title favorites -- if not the favorite. Butler struggled from its opening game (a blowout loss at Louisville).
Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski found himself replacing his star freshman point guard (the injured Kyrie Irving) by shifting All-American Nolan Smith to the point, with brilliant results. Stevens found himself trying to replace Hayward, a lottery pick, and Willie Veasley, last season’s senior defensive stalwart, with a batch of marginal recruits.
But you wouldn't have been able to tell Thursday night. Butler handled an ice-cold Wisconsin offense with minimal issues, advancing the small Indiana school to its second straight Elite Eight. At the exact same time, thousands of miles west -- hooray for metaphors! -- Duke was waylaid by an athletic, aggressive, unintimidated Arizona team led by the de facto star of this NCAA tournament, forward Derrick Williams.
The nature of Duke's loss was remarkable, but really, the dual outcomes were the most surprising part of this night. Except for the last few minutes of Butler's win over Wisconsin, in which the Badgers made a last-ditch comeback attempt, those outcomes were apparent.
Duke was getting blown out. Butler was moving on.
If you called that, you're a genius. Or a savant. Or you have a really good sense of quasi-irony. Or whatever.
Chances are you, like pretty much everyone else in the world, didn't see this one coming. You didn't see it coming last year. You didn't see it coming in December. You didn't see it coming in February. You didn't see it coming yesterday.
But, yep, here we are. A pair of parallel seasons: one ending, one continuing. Another shocking upset. Another masterful postseason performance by Brad Stevens and the Bulldogs.
Eight months later, on Dec. 4, the two teams met in New Jersey. Butler played Duke closer than most expected, but the Blue Devils -- helped in part by some debilitating cramps from Butler guard Shelvin Mack -- pulled away late en route to an 82-70 win.
On Feb. 3 of this year, Duke was 20-2. Butler was 14-9. That ninth loss came on Feb. 3, when Butler, in the ugliest moment of what to that point had been a shockingly ugly year, lost to Youngstown State -- yes, last-place Youngstown State. It was the fifth Horizon League loss of the season for coach Brad Stevens. The Butler of 2010 was nowhere to be found.
Last season Matt Howard and Butler had to watch Duke celebrate a national title, but the Bulldogs have outlasted the Blue Devils in 2011.
If someone hopped told you that Butler would outlast Duke in the 2011 NCAA tournament, you would have had that person committed to a highly respected psychiatric facility. And not just because of the time-travel talk.
Just seven weeks later, well, that's where we are. Butler is in the Elite Eight. Duke is not. In case you needed another reminder that college basketball predictions are a foolhardy enterprise -- not that you did -- you won't do much better than Thursday night's simultaneous Sweet 16 action.
Perhaps it was fitting -- or ironic, or coincidental, or all three -- that these two teams' trajectories led them to this night. Duke rolled through much of the regular season as one of the national title favorites -- if not the favorite. Butler struggled from its opening game (a blowout loss at Louisville).
Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski found himself replacing his star freshman point guard (the injured Kyrie Irving) by shifting All-American Nolan Smith to the point, with brilliant results. Stevens found himself trying to replace Hayward, a lottery pick, and Willie Veasley, last season’s senior defensive stalwart, with a batch of marginal recruits.
But you wouldn't have been able to tell Thursday night. Butler handled an ice-cold Wisconsin offense with minimal issues, advancing the small Indiana school to its second straight Elite Eight. At the exact same time, thousands of miles west -- hooray for metaphors! -- Duke was waylaid by an athletic, aggressive, unintimidated Arizona team led by the de facto star of this NCAA tournament, forward Derrick Williams.
The nature of Duke's loss was remarkable, but really, the dual outcomes were the most surprising part of this night. Except for the last few minutes of Butler's win over Wisconsin, in which the Badgers made a last-ditch comeback attempt, those outcomes were apparent.
Duke was getting blown out. Butler was moving on.
If you called that, you're a genius. Or a savant. Or you have a really good sense of quasi-irony. Or whatever.
Chances are you, like pretty much everyone else in the world, didn't see this one coming. You didn't see it coming last year. You didn't see it coming in December. You didn't see it coming in February. You didn't see it coming yesterday.
But, yep, here we are. A pair of parallel seasons: one ending, one continuing. Another shocking upset. Another masterful postseason performance by Brad Stevens and the Bulldogs.
BUTLER vs WISCONSIN
Matt Howard and Butler are starting to make this look a little easier.
When the final horn sounded Thursday night, the Bulldogs calmly congratulated one another and walked over to shake hands with Wisconsin, yet another higher seed sent packing. It all seemed rather routine, at least for the Bulldogs.
After narrowly surviving its first two NCAA tournament games by margins of two points or fewer, Butler led by 20 points before holding on for a 61-54 victory over the Badgers.
Butler is in the Elite Eight. Defending champ Duke is out of the tournament. Few saw this coming.
The Bulldogs took down the Big Ten bruisers, proving again they can play with anyone, especially in March. Another sure thing about these Horizon League champs: They won't have to duke it out with Duke in this year's tournament.
The top-seeded Blue Devils, who beat Butler 61-59 in last season's thrilling title game, were upset by Arizona 93-77 earlier in the evening.
"I don't know necessarily that I'm shocked by [the upsets] because I know what this team is capable of," Howard said. "But [I'm] very happy that we were able to execute again tonight and get the job done."
The victory sent Butler into the Southeast Regional final, where the Bulldogs meet second-seeded Florida (29-7) on Saturday for a trip to what would be the Bulldogs' second straight Final Four.
"Obviously, we're thrilled to still be playing," Butler coach Brad Stevens said. "I don't think that this group goes into games not believing, and I don't think that this group came here not believing. And so we're going to see if we can't try to get one on Saturday and move on."
Jordan Taylor scored 22 for Wisconsin (25-9), which shot 30.4 percent (17-of-56). Jon Leuer, normally one of the Badgers' top offensive forces with 18.7 points per game coming in, was 1-of-12 shooting and finished with three points.
"We made plays that were uncharacteristic of us," Leuer said. "We tried to force some things, and Butler did some good things defensively. ... They're just tough kids who are all-around good players, and they play to their strengths."
Butler was the aggressor from the outset, using quickness and heady play to counter Wisconsin's size advantage. The Bulldogs took a 6-5 lead on Vanzant's 3 from the corner and never trailed again.
While the Bulldogs shot 50 percent (12-of-24) in the opening 20 minutes, their defense was equally impressive. Wisconsin came in averaging only 7.5 turnovers per game but had eight in the first half alone. Taylor, who entered the contest with the nation's best assist-to-turnover ratio at 4.18, had one assist and two turnovers to that point.
"It was just kinda one of those nights. The ball just wasn't going through the hoop. It's frustrating," Taylor said. "They're scrappy and relentless. I don't know -- they're just tough kids. They never quit, and that's what makes them winners."
When the final horn sounded Thursday night, the Bulldogs calmly congratulated one another and walked over to shake hands with Wisconsin, yet another higher seed sent packing. It all seemed rather routine, at least for the Bulldogs.
After narrowly surviving its first two NCAA tournament games by margins of two points or fewer, Butler led by 20 points before holding on for a 61-54 victory over the Badgers.
Butler is in the Elite Eight. Defending champ Duke is out of the tournament. Few saw this coming.
The Bulldogs took down the Big Ten bruisers, proving again they can play with anyone, especially in March. Another sure thing about these Horizon League champs: They won't have to duke it out with Duke in this year's tournament.
The top-seeded Blue Devils, who beat Butler 61-59 in last season's thrilling title game, were upset by Arizona 93-77 earlier in the evening.
"I don't know necessarily that I'm shocked by [the upsets] because I know what this team is capable of," Howard said. "But [I'm] very happy that we were able to execute again tonight and get the job done."
The victory sent Butler into the Southeast Regional final, where the Bulldogs meet second-seeded Florida (29-7) on Saturday for a trip to what would be the Bulldogs' second straight Final Four.
"Obviously, we're thrilled to still be playing," Butler coach Brad Stevens said. "I don't think that this group goes into games not believing, and I don't think that this group came here not believing. And so we're going to see if we can't try to get one on Saturday and move on."
Jordan Taylor scored 22 for Wisconsin (25-9), which shot 30.4 percent (17-of-56). Jon Leuer, normally one of the Badgers' top offensive forces with 18.7 points per game coming in, was 1-of-12 shooting and finished with three points.
"We made plays that were uncharacteristic of us," Leuer said. "We tried to force some things, and Butler did some good things defensively. ... They're just tough kids who are all-around good players, and they play to their strengths."
Butler was the aggressor from the outset, using quickness and heady play to counter Wisconsin's size advantage. The Bulldogs took a 6-5 lead on Vanzant's 3 from the corner and never trailed again.
While the Bulldogs shot 50 percent (12-of-24) in the opening 20 minutes, their defense was equally impressive. Wisconsin came in averaging only 7.5 turnovers per game but had eight in the first half alone. Taylor, who entered the contest with the nation's best assist-to-turnover ratio at 4.18, had one assist and two turnovers to that point.
"It was just kinda one of those nights. The ball just wasn't going through the hoop. It's frustrating," Taylor said. "They're scrappy and relentless. I don't know -- they're just tough kids. They never quit, and that's what makes them winners."
THE BUTLER WAY
Ronald Nored and Matt Howard led Butler to another win and advance to the Final Four for the second year in a row.
The Bulldogs paved a path to get back by developing a will that once again propelled them throughout this tournament.
Butler is back in the Final Four after imposing its will in a 74-71 overtime win over Florida on Saturday afternoon.
“Last year in Salt Lake [site of the 2010 West Regional], it was almost like a ride you never dreamed of being on and we relished every moment,’’ said coach Brad Stevens, who is 10-3 in the NCAA tournament in just four short seasons as Butler's coach. “But this team has been so businesslike.’’
Butler had to earn this trip more so than a year ago, when it won 24 straight games going into the Final Four. The Bulldogs lost three straight in the middle of conference play, even falling to lowly Youngstown State on the road. Butler lost five league games, ended in a three-way tie for first and had to win the conference tournament title on the road at Milwaukee.
“There was turmoil that we had to go through after falling pretty down in January and early February,’’ said Butler junior guard Ronald Nored. “We had to earn this. It was tougher than last year.’’
Against No. 9 seed Old Dominion, Butler had to win on a last-second layup by Matt Howard. An inexplicable foul at the end of the second half allowed the Bulldogs to barely eke past top-seeded Pitt.
“We were lucky to beat Old Dominion,’’ Stevens said. “They could be sitting here. Pittsburgh could be sitting here. There’s no doubt that they were great teams. That’s the tournament. It doesn’t matter how you win, you just try to play the next one and hope you get a chance to play the next one.’’
The Florida game Saturday couldn’t have gone worse for Butler early on. The Gators sprinkled in a zone with their man defense and it perplexed Butler. Florida built an 11-point lead with less than 10 minutes to go in the game and the Gators looked the part of the more experienced NCAA team, en route to its fourth Final Four under Billy Donovan.
“We got them to take shots out of character for them,’’ Donovan said. “But then they found a way to come down and get another possession. The difference in the game was those 50-50 balls in the last 10 minutes of regulation.’’
They’re called winning plays. Butler has made them for the past few years under Stevens, and to some extent long before that under Barry Collier, Thad Matta and Todd Lickliter. Over the past decade and more, those coaches have made this one of the most consistent programs in the country.
“When you get to this point in the season, and I had this with [Joakim] Noah, [Al] Horford and [Corey] Brewer and those guys, there is an internal will and back then our internal will was terrific,’’ Donovan said of the Gators' consecutive championships in 2006 and 2007. “I thought [Butler's] internal will, coming down with those loose balls, being quicker in reacting, they just got it. They made plays. Their will at that point in time and their refusal to be denied speaks to something. I thought it stood out. I thought our guys were terrific in that, but not as good as they were.’’
“What defines this Butler group was the unselfishness of Ron Nored not starting after starting during the national championship game and guarding [Ervin] Walker as tough as he possibly could and Shawn Vanzant tipping plays and Khyle Marshall and our young guys starting to figure this out,’’ Stevens said.
The Bulldogs head to Houston not as underdogs, but as established members of an elite class. Michigan State went to consecutive Final Fours in 2009 and '10. Florida did it in 2006 and '07. The last mid-major school to make consecutive appearances was UNLV in 1990 and '91.
“I know this: Somebody is going to have to beat us because of our will,’’ Stevens said.
The Bulldogs paved a path to get back by developing a will that once again propelled them throughout this tournament.
Butler is back in the Final Four after imposing its will in a 74-71 overtime win over Florida on Saturday afternoon.
“Last year in Salt Lake [site of the 2010 West Regional], it was almost like a ride you never dreamed of being on and we relished every moment,’’ said coach Brad Stevens, who is 10-3 in the NCAA tournament in just four short seasons as Butler's coach. “But this team has been so businesslike.’’
Butler had to earn this trip more so than a year ago, when it won 24 straight games going into the Final Four. The Bulldogs lost three straight in the middle of conference play, even falling to lowly Youngstown State on the road. Butler lost five league games, ended in a three-way tie for first and had to win the conference tournament title on the road at Milwaukee.
“There was turmoil that we had to go through after falling pretty down in January and early February,’’ said Butler junior guard Ronald Nored. “We had to earn this. It was tougher than last year.’’
Against No. 9 seed Old Dominion, Butler had to win on a last-second layup by Matt Howard. An inexplicable foul at the end of the second half allowed the Bulldogs to barely eke past top-seeded Pitt.
“We were lucky to beat Old Dominion,’’ Stevens said. “They could be sitting here. Pittsburgh could be sitting here. There’s no doubt that they were great teams. That’s the tournament. It doesn’t matter how you win, you just try to play the next one and hope you get a chance to play the next one.’’
The Florida game Saturday couldn’t have gone worse for Butler early on. The Gators sprinkled in a zone with their man defense and it perplexed Butler. Florida built an 11-point lead with less than 10 minutes to go in the game and the Gators looked the part of the more experienced NCAA team, en route to its fourth Final Four under Billy Donovan.
“We got them to take shots out of character for them,’’ Donovan said. “But then they found a way to come down and get another possession. The difference in the game was those 50-50 balls in the last 10 minutes of regulation.’’
They’re called winning plays. Butler has made them for the past few years under Stevens, and to some extent long before that under Barry Collier, Thad Matta and Todd Lickliter. Over the past decade and more, those coaches have made this one of the most consistent programs in the country.
“When you get to this point in the season, and I had this with [Joakim] Noah, [Al] Horford and [Corey] Brewer and those guys, there is an internal will and back then our internal will was terrific,’’ Donovan said of the Gators' consecutive championships in 2006 and 2007. “I thought [Butler's] internal will, coming down with those loose balls, being quicker in reacting, they just got it. They made plays. Their will at that point in time and their refusal to be denied speaks to something. I thought it stood out. I thought our guys were terrific in that, but not as good as they were.’’
“What defines this Butler group was the unselfishness of Ron Nored not starting after starting during the national championship game and guarding [Ervin] Walker as tough as he possibly could and Shawn Vanzant tipping plays and Khyle Marshall and our young guys starting to figure this out,’’ Stevens said.
The Bulldogs head to Houston not as underdogs, but as established members of an elite class. Michigan State went to consecutive Final Fours in 2009 and '10. Florida did it in 2006 and '07. The last mid-major school to make consecutive appearances was UNLV in 1990 and '91.
“I know this: Somebody is going to have to beat us because of our will,’’ Stevens said.
KEVIN EASTMON ON KEVIN GARNETT
We are very fortunate to have a Kevin Garnett to coach, and his teammates are fortunate to have a Kevin Garnett to lead. You may have your own Kevin Garnett or someone on your team that can develop into a Kevin Garnett -- not just from a talent standpoint but also from a leadership standpoint.
Here are some of the things I have observed Kevin doing, saying, or demonstrating that allow him to lead at a higher level than most.
• He always looks for teaching opportunities to help young players become “true professionals,” from the way they dress to the way they prepare for the game and for practice, to the way they interact with teammates.
• He lives the “team concept” every day in every way. In fact, last year Kevin wouldn’t do interviews without Paul Pierce or Ray Allen with him because he didn’t want the team to be “his” team; he always wanted it to be “our” team.
• He demands that the coaching staff coach him, call him out, correct him -- so that he can become a better player. He understands that coaching is not criticism, but a very important part of his improvement.
• He works on his game just about every day of our 287-day season. Understands that repetition is the key to being good.
• He is competitive and committed: he plays just as hard whether we are ahead or behind and whether he had 3 shots or 30 points.
• He shows everyone that the great ones just want to get better; always wants to know anything that will make him a better player.
• He often says, “it’s about what you are willing to sacrifice; that’s our way of life here with the Celtics. It’s about putting the team and winning before anything else.”
• He often says, “in order for this thing to work, we all have to sacrifice.”
• He always talks about defense: “We said from Day 1 that we were a defensive team that could also score.”
• And the ultimate sacrifice in today's me-oriented world Kevin says, “from Day 1 we said this is Paul’s team.” Everyone else wanted to make it Kevin’s team but he knew Paul deserved it because Paul had been with the Celtics during tough times.
The list could go on and on, but the point is that true leadership is not about oneself. It is the ability to get not only the most from your own ability but true leadership also means getting the most out of every teammate’s ability as well. Kevin does this by example, by teaching, by his public comments and by his unending commitment to team over self.
Here are some of the things I have observed Kevin doing, saying, or demonstrating that allow him to lead at a higher level than most.
• He always looks for teaching opportunities to help young players become “true professionals,” from the way they dress to the way they prepare for the game and for practice, to the way they interact with teammates.
• He lives the “team concept” every day in every way. In fact, last year Kevin wouldn’t do interviews without Paul Pierce or Ray Allen with him because he didn’t want the team to be “his” team; he always wanted it to be “our” team.
• He demands that the coaching staff coach him, call him out, correct him -- so that he can become a better player. He understands that coaching is not criticism, but a very important part of his improvement.
• He works on his game just about every day of our 287-day season. Understands that repetition is the key to being good.
• He is competitive and committed: he plays just as hard whether we are ahead or behind and whether he had 3 shots or 30 points.
• He shows everyone that the great ones just want to get better; always wants to know anything that will make him a better player.
• He often says, “it’s about what you are willing to sacrifice; that’s our way of life here with the Celtics. It’s about putting the team and winning before anything else.”
• He often says, “in order for this thing to work, we all have to sacrifice.”
• He always talks about defense: “We said from Day 1 that we were a defensive team that could also score.”
• And the ultimate sacrifice in today's me-oriented world Kevin says, “from Day 1 we said this is Paul’s team.” Everyone else wanted to make it Kevin’s team but he knew Paul deserved it because Paul had been with the Celtics during tough times.
The list could go on and on, but the point is that true leadership is not about oneself. It is the ability to get not only the most from your own ability but true leadership also means getting the most out of every teammate’s ability as well. Kevin does this by example, by teaching, by his public comments and by his unending commitment to team over self.
WARRIORS LEAVE THEIR MARK
"Each warrior wants to leave the mark of his will, his signature, on the important acts he touches. This is not the voice of ego but the human spirit, rising up and declaring that is has something to contribute. In every contest, there comes a moment that separates winning from losing. The true warrior understands and seizes the moment by giving an effort so intense and so intuitive that if could only be called one from the heart."
-Pat Riley
-Pat Riley
3.24.2011
PATTY - A GREAT TEAMMATE
There is a lot to be decided for the Trail Blazers in their final 11 games, but it appears one of the major decisions -- who will be the backup point guard -- was made Tuesday night.
Patty Mills, coach Nate McMillan made clear Tuesday, is not the answer.
For the past two weeks -- really since he had a nightmarish end to the first quarter in Atlanta on March 12 -- Mills has seen his backup role diminished. In part, it was because McMillan has been incorporating Brandon Roy back into the mix, using him at times as a point guard.
But much of it also had to do with Mills' play. There have been some careless turnovers. Costly fouls. As much as everyone loves Mills and his personality, the simple fact is he wasn't getting the job done.
So as the season shrinks and the importance of each game grows, what used to be about 15 minutes a game for Mills started dwindling to nine minutes. Then six minutes. And on Tuesday, Mills played all of 14 seconds in a blowout over Washington until he came in for the final 4:50 and the Blazers up 34.
McMillan has been wrestling with this decision for the past couple of weeks. He is hesitant to use Roy and Rudy Fernandez at point guard for extended spells because he feels the offense becomes stagnant. And he feels the responsibility of running the offense takes away from the strengths of Roy and Fernandez.
So he kept telling himself that he likes having a true point guard like Mills in the game because he gets the Blazers into their offense. And he has great speed, which McMillan would like to see translate to the Blazers' offense.
Even after the Blazers' game Sunday in Los Angeles, when Mills made a silly foul that resulted in two made free throws at the end of the first quarter, McMillan insisted Mills would remain in the rotation.
Then before Tuesday's game, McMillan acknowledged that Mills was on watch. His play had to improve, or else Roy and Fernandez would get all of the backup point guard minutes.
Forty-five minutes later, when the game started, Mills was not in McMillan's game plan.
So what did the man who essentially had just lost his job do in response?
What Mills always does.
After the final buzzer, he stood in the tunnel that leads from the court to the Blazers locker room and gave fist bumps to everyone that walked through. Everyone. Owner Paul Allen. Executive Bert Kolde. The mascot. General manager Rich Cho. A janitor with two brooms. All of his teammates. Announcer Michael Holton.
Then there was nobody. But Mills stood there, leaned against the railing and waited.
Finally, teammate Chris Johnson -- who did an interview on the court -- came running through. Another fist bump. And now it was time to join the team.
"I just do it so they know I appreciate their hard work. That they are not alone," Mills said. "I think it goes a long way, especially for the guys who have been giving interviews on the court. They may think that everyone is waiting for him, but I will wait, just to say good game and walk him back in."
Some might think that image is corny. Touchy-feely. Or that it has nothing to do with executing an offense or winning basketball games.
But ask anybody around the Blazers, and they will tell you that Mills is, and always will be, a huge difference maker for this team.
For one, he is not hanging his head and accepting his demotion.
He was the last one to leave the court before the game, nearly missing the team's pregame meeting. He was lathered in sweat, working with assistants Bill Bayno, Hersey Hawkins and consultant Steve Gordon on how to better run his defender off screens. And he was working on altering the speed of his attack so it's not always full-speed ahead, but rather a bolt here and a pull back there.
Also, he continues to be this team's resident chemistry builder.
Publicly, he is already widely known for encouraging his teammates to sign up on Twitter, and now he, Wesley Matthews, Nicolas Batum, Marcus Camby and LaMarcus Aldridge all share playful banter throughout everyday on the social-mediaplatform, all there for fans to enjoy.
But privately, he also brings this team closer from a basketball standpoint. Take for instance Tuesday's game -- the same game most players probably would be stunned they weren't being put in by the coach.
Instead, Mills was asking questions, stimulating conversation on the bench. When Aldridge received a post-entry pass, Mills wondered aloud which player should cut through the lane to provide proper spacing for Aldridge to work. The next thing he knew, four other Blazers had joined in the conversation, offering their viewpoints.
"It was pretty cool," Mills said. "We had three, four, five guys involved in the same conversation about the game. And the next thing you know, we have five guys on the same page."
There will be times between now and the playoffs that Mills will be called upon. And he vows to keep working to be ready and improved for those opportunities, no matter how small.
"The way I look at it is it's still a role, even though the minutes have been cut down," Mills said. "If it's just a couple of minutes, those couple of minutes can be crucial to that game. So it's still a role. And I feel like I'm contributing whether I'm on the court or not."
Patty Mills, coach Nate McMillan made clear Tuesday, is not the answer.
For the past two weeks -- really since he had a nightmarish end to the first quarter in Atlanta on March 12 -- Mills has seen his backup role diminished. In part, it was because McMillan has been incorporating Brandon Roy back into the mix, using him at times as a point guard.
But much of it also had to do with Mills' play. There have been some careless turnovers. Costly fouls. As much as everyone loves Mills and his personality, the simple fact is he wasn't getting the job done.
So as the season shrinks and the importance of each game grows, what used to be about 15 minutes a game for Mills started dwindling to nine minutes. Then six minutes. And on Tuesday, Mills played all of 14 seconds in a blowout over Washington until he came in for the final 4:50 and the Blazers up 34.
McMillan has been wrestling with this decision for the past couple of weeks. He is hesitant to use Roy and Rudy Fernandez at point guard for extended spells because he feels the offense becomes stagnant. And he feels the responsibility of running the offense takes away from the strengths of Roy and Fernandez.
So he kept telling himself that he likes having a true point guard like Mills in the game because he gets the Blazers into their offense. And he has great speed, which McMillan would like to see translate to the Blazers' offense.
Even after the Blazers' game Sunday in Los Angeles, when Mills made a silly foul that resulted in two made free throws at the end of the first quarter, McMillan insisted Mills would remain in the rotation.
Then before Tuesday's game, McMillan acknowledged that Mills was on watch. His play had to improve, or else Roy and Fernandez would get all of the backup point guard minutes.
Forty-five minutes later, when the game started, Mills was not in McMillan's game plan.
So what did the man who essentially had just lost his job do in response?
What Mills always does.
After the final buzzer, he stood in the tunnel that leads from the court to the Blazers locker room and gave fist bumps to everyone that walked through. Everyone. Owner Paul Allen. Executive Bert Kolde. The mascot. General manager Rich Cho. A janitor with two brooms. All of his teammates. Announcer Michael Holton.
Then there was nobody. But Mills stood there, leaned against the railing and waited.
Finally, teammate Chris Johnson -- who did an interview on the court -- came running through. Another fist bump. And now it was time to join the team.
"I just do it so they know I appreciate their hard work. That they are not alone," Mills said. "I think it goes a long way, especially for the guys who have been giving interviews on the court. They may think that everyone is waiting for him, but I will wait, just to say good game and walk him back in."
Some might think that image is corny. Touchy-feely. Or that it has nothing to do with executing an offense or winning basketball games.
But ask anybody around the Blazers, and they will tell you that Mills is, and always will be, a huge difference maker for this team.
For one, he is not hanging his head and accepting his demotion.
He was the last one to leave the court before the game, nearly missing the team's pregame meeting. He was lathered in sweat, working with assistants Bill Bayno, Hersey Hawkins and consultant Steve Gordon on how to better run his defender off screens. And he was working on altering the speed of his attack so it's not always full-speed ahead, but rather a bolt here and a pull back there.
Also, he continues to be this team's resident chemistry builder.
Publicly, he is already widely known for encouraging his teammates to sign up on Twitter, and now he, Wesley Matthews, Nicolas Batum, Marcus Camby and LaMarcus Aldridge all share playful banter throughout everyday on the social-mediaplatform, all there for fans to enjoy.
But privately, he also brings this team closer from a basketball standpoint. Take for instance Tuesday's game -- the same game most players probably would be stunned they weren't being put in by the coach.
Instead, Mills was asking questions, stimulating conversation on the bench. When Aldridge received a post-entry pass, Mills wondered aloud which player should cut through the lane to provide proper spacing for Aldridge to work. The next thing he knew, four other Blazers had joined in the conversation, offering their viewpoints.
"It was pretty cool," Mills said. "We had three, four, five guys involved in the same conversation about the game. And the next thing you know, we have five guys on the same page."
There will be times between now and the playoffs that Mills will be called upon. And he vows to keep working to be ready and improved for those opportunities, no matter how small.
"The way I look at it is it's still a role, even though the minutes have been cut down," Mills said. "If it's just a couple of minutes, those couple of minutes can be crucial to that game. So it's still a role. And I feel like I'm contributing whether I'm on the court or not."
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