Growing…
The Judson School was located just north of Lincoln Boulevard on Mockingbird Lane in a very upscale area. First year of coaching high school basketball- no gym, no possibility of a summer program because it was a boarding school which was closed in the summer, and practically all of the athletes at the school played football. There were no charter schools back then, but there were many private schools who had formed their own association- separate from the AIA. They called it the Arizona Independent Athletic Association (AIAA) and, just to give you a reference, some of the schools in the league were Phoenix Country Day, Orme, Arizona Lutheran, Northwest Christian, and us. They were scattered all over the state actually and the travel schedule for basketball was pretty rough, and covered Yuma all the way to the White Mountains. I, of course, had no idea about any of that and just wanted to get a job and get started with a career in coaching.
I was at the mercy of whoever the school had as athletes, because I had no hand in the selection of students for the school. It was an expensive school and had a rich clientele. For example, there was a kid from Iran whose parents gave him a monthly allowance that was more than my yearly salary. Being a really good basketball player was not the main criteria for getting in to Judson- being wealthy was. So my teams were always a crap shoot and I had to find something simple, but effective for groups that I would really not have much time with. So I settled on the diamond press as a main weapon. The good thing about the diamond press is that it forces a certain tempo that is hard for the opponents to get out of. You are forcing the ball to be put in the hands of players who may not be so good at decision making, as well as enticing teams to constantly be attacking the basket without running much in the way of an offense. The bad thing about the diamond press is that if a team has simply more talent than you do, or is well coached, the above mentioned things are not that much of a problem. So then it becomes a high possession game that may not favor you. In my head, I had a picture of what I wanted to do if I could build a program, but Judson was not going to be that place. We were going to get in great condition and press. We didn’t have a gym, only two outdoor courts. Practices didn’t start until after school, so many times I would have to pull my car up to the edge of the car and turn my lights on so we could finish practice. If I had an assistant, the court was really well lit. If I didn’t, it wasn’t. Sometimes the AD would let us rent a gym, like the Scottsdale Boys Club for a practice and that was like going to Disneyland- a real gym!
Most coaches can tell you what it felt like to get on the bus for that very first road game of their career, and I can remember it now 40 years later. We were headed for Superior, Arizona to play our opener- my first high school game as a coach. If you are ever headed towards Globe and you get all the way through Superior, just before you start to climb the hill, look to your left and you will see the old Superior High School gym- a quonset hut. Every time these days that we drive up that way to play Eastern Arizona in Thatcher, I always look at the gym as we go by. I really shouldn’t, though, because Superior really handed it to us that night. The diamond wasn’t effective, and we looked like we were running in mud. Still, though, there was a thrill that was memorable- the day of the game, the players dressed in shirts and ties, the bus ride, the camaraderie- there was nothing like it. I hated losing, but knew I was doing the right thing.
Eventually, the pressing clicked, as our guys went from football shape to basketball shape. Our season was comprised of games against the various private schools around the state, small high school varsities like Superior, and big school junior varsities. Our AD made the schedule and his idea was to play as many games as possible to keep the boys busy and under constant supervision. Money and boredom are bad things for a boarding school, so Joe kept us busy. We made it to the semi-finals of the AIAA state tournament before losing to San Pasquale from Yuma. They had some really good guards and handled the press well. We had split with them during the year.
One of the advantages to not being able to have a summer program at Judson was that it gave me an opportunity to work in the summer. Since Judson didn’t pay very well, that was really important to me and my wife. It also opened the door to some of the best times I ever had in my growth as a basketball coach. There were some unbelievably good basketball camps in Arizona during that time- the Phoenix Suns Basketball Camp, the Arizona Sports Camp, and the Adams-Westphal Camp stood out. It was a basketball burnout for someone like me who was soaking every bit of knowledge he could from the many great coaches that I roomed with, worked with, and hung around with. The next three summers, I did eight to ten weeks of these camps each summer. It was like Perry’s Sports Camp in Oregon all over again, except now I was a coach. If only every coach could do this, instead of being bound by their own summer programs as we all are now. I talked basketball with some of Arizona’s greatest coaches and it was priceless. A typical camp day would go eighteen hours and I would be completely spent at the end of a week, then rest on the weekend, and go do it again.
One of my close friendships in coaching grew out of the Adams-Westphal Camp. Rob Babcock, whose brother Pete was the camp director, was coaching and teaching at the American School in Mexico City at the time, and he could relate to my situation at Judson, as his was very similar. He invited me to bring my Judson team down to Mexico City for a holiday tournament the next season. That would be an unreasonable request for many high schools, but since most of our kids were rich, we pulled it off. There would be us, the American School, and two local Mexico City teams playing in the tournament. We were housed in homes of his players’ families, and Brigitte and I were in one of the most palatial homes I have ever seen. Sadly, right down the street and out of the neighborhood gates, was a hillside where thousands of people lived in absolute squalor and poverty. Just before our first game, the students from the Mexican school that we were playing unfurled a huge banner that said “Remember the Alamo!” I went to the scorers table and told them that I would take my team off the court unless that sign was removed. We all knew who had won the battle of the Alamo. We ended up winning the tournament and that team in1980 would go on and win the AIAA state title. We still pressed, because with so little time to work with players you have to be kind of one-dimensional. We were down 15 going into the fourth quarter of the championship game and came back and won 76-75 against that same San Pasquale team that had beaten us the year before. I still have a picture of us rushing the court hanging in my house. Just before they tore down the Judson School to build new homes, one of my ex-players rescued the trophy and it sits today in my office at MCC.
Next…need more dimensions…
The Judson School was located just north of Lincoln Boulevard on Mockingbird Lane in a very upscale area. First year of coaching high school basketball- no gym, no possibility of a summer program because it was a boarding school which was closed in the summer, and practically all of the athletes at the school played football. There were no charter schools back then, but there were many private schools who had formed their own association- separate from the AIA. They called it the Arizona Independent Athletic Association (AIAA) and, just to give you a reference, some of the schools in the league were Phoenix Country Day, Orme, Arizona Lutheran, Northwest Christian, and us. They were scattered all over the state actually and the travel schedule for basketball was pretty rough, and covered Yuma all the way to the White Mountains. I, of course, had no idea about any of that and just wanted to get a job and get started with a career in coaching.
I was at the mercy of whoever the school had as athletes, because I had no hand in the selection of students for the school. It was an expensive school and had a rich clientele. For example, there was a kid from Iran whose parents gave him a monthly allowance that was more than my yearly salary. Being a really good basketball player was not the main criteria for getting in to Judson- being wealthy was. So my teams were always a crap shoot and I had to find something simple, but effective for groups that I would really not have much time with. So I settled on the diamond press as a main weapon. The good thing about the diamond press is that it forces a certain tempo that is hard for the opponents to get out of. You are forcing the ball to be put in the hands of players who may not be so good at decision making, as well as enticing teams to constantly be attacking the basket without running much in the way of an offense. The bad thing about the diamond press is that if a team has simply more talent than you do, or is well coached, the above mentioned things are not that much of a problem. So then it becomes a high possession game that may not favor you. In my head, I had a picture of what I wanted to do if I could build a program, but Judson was not going to be that place. We were going to get in great condition and press. We didn’t have a gym, only two outdoor courts. Practices didn’t start until after school, so many times I would have to pull my car up to the edge of the car and turn my lights on so we could finish practice. If I had an assistant, the court was really well lit. If I didn’t, it wasn’t. Sometimes the AD would let us rent a gym, like the Scottsdale Boys Club for a practice and that was like going to Disneyland- a real gym!
Most coaches can tell you what it felt like to get on the bus for that very first road game of their career, and I can remember it now 40 years later. We were headed for Superior, Arizona to play our opener- my first high school game as a coach. If you are ever headed towards Globe and you get all the way through Superior, just before you start to climb the hill, look to your left and you will see the old Superior High School gym- a quonset hut. Every time these days that we drive up that way to play Eastern Arizona in Thatcher, I always look at the gym as we go by. I really shouldn’t, though, because Superior really handed it to us that night. The diamond wasn’t effective, and we looked like we were running in mud. Still, though, there was a thrill that was memorable- the day of the game, the players dressed in shirts and ties, the bus ride, the camaraderie- there was nothing like it. I hated losing, but knew I was doing the right thing.
Eventually, the pressing clicked, as our guys went from football shape to basketball shape. Our season was comprised of games against the various private schools around the state, small high school varsities like Superior, and big school junior varsities. Our AD made the schedule and his idea was to play as many games as possible to keep the boys busy and under constant supervision. Money and boredom are bad things for a boarding school, so Joe kept us busy. We made it to the semi-finals of the AIAA state tournament before losing to San Pasquale from Yuma. They had some really good guards and handled the press well. We had split with them during the year.
One of the advantages to not being able to have a summer program at Judson was that it gave me an opportunity to work in the summer. Since Judson didn’t pay very well, that was really important to me and my wife. It also opened the door to some of the best times I ever had in my growth as a basketball coach. There were some unbelievably good basketball camps in Arizona during that time- the Phoenix Suns Basketball Camp, the Arizona Sports Camp, and the Adams-Westphal Camp stood out. It was a basketball burnout for someone like me who was soaking every bit of knowledge he could from the many great coaches that I roomed with, worked with, and hung around with. The next three summers, I did eight to ten weeks of these camps each summer. It was like Perry’s Sports Camp in Oregon all over again, except now I was a coach. If only every coach could do this, instead of being bound by their own summer programs as we all are now. I talked basketball with some of Arizona’s greatest coaches and it was priceless. A typical camp day would go eighteen hours and I would be completely spent at the end of a week, then rest on the weekend, and go do it again.
One of my close friendships in coaching grew out of the Adams-Westphal Camp. Rob Babcock, whose brother Pete was the camp director, was coaching and teaching at the American School in Mexico City at the time, and he could relate to my situation at Judson, as his was very similar. He invited me to bring my Judson team down to Mexico City for a holiday tournament the next season. That would be an unreasonable request for many high schools, but since most of our kids were rich, we pulled it off. There would be us, the American School, and two local Mexico City teams playing in the tournament. We were housed in homes of his players’ families, and Brigitte and I were in one of the most palatial homes I have ever seen. Sadly, right down the street and out of the neighborhood gates, was a hillside where thousands of people lived in absolute squalor and poverty. Just before our first game, the students from the Mexican school that we were playing unfurled a huge banner that said “Remember the Alamo!” I went to the scorers table and told them that I would take my team off the court unless that sign was removed. We all knew who had won the battle of the Alamo. We ended up winning the tournament and that team in1980 would go on and win the AIAA state title. We still pressed, because with so little time to work with players you have to be kind of one-dimensional. We were down 15 going into the fourth quarter of the championship game and came back and won 76-75 against that same San Pasquale team that had beaten us the year before. I still have a picture of us rushing the court hanging in my house. Just before they tore down the Judson School to build new homes, one of my ex-players rescued the trophy and it sits today in my office at MCC.
Next…need more dimensions…
