Need more dimensions…
I never really had a plan for how long I would stay at Judson. It was just so out of balance with the world that I didn’t think anyone could stay for a long time, but there were teachers who had been there for twenty or thirty years. When I say out of balance, I mean that the clientele was a bunch of filthy rich kids, being taught in rustic surroundings, in a neighborhood with multi-million dollar homes spreading out in all directions. My “locker room” for PE and basketball was a converted storage shed almost off the property out by the football/soccer field. The basketball courts were at the other end of the school near the entrance, so I would drive to work in the mornings and park down by my shed, then drive out towards the basketball courts at the end of the day, just in case I needed to use my headlights. The classrooms were old adobe style buildings with very Spartan technology. The students always had more devices than we did. Their dorms were also old adobe buildings, but many of the rooms had better furniture in them than I did where I lived with my wife.
Going into my third year, I knew I couldn’t last much longer there, because I would not be able to grow as a coach. It was impossible to get much off season time with the guys that played basketball, because almost all of them played football, basketball, and baseball. And no, playing multiple sports did nothing to enhance their college careers and make them more attractive to scouts. That’s been a tired argument over the years, mainly put forth by football coaches who see every other season of sport as a chance for their guys to work on things that will make them better football players. If a kid wanted to play other sports, I never tried to stop them, but there were plenty of guys who liked basketball enough over the years who would just get better and pass those other guys by along the way. There’s a couple of good books out there about the power of dedicated practice- “Outliers” by Malcom Gladwell and “Talent is Overrated” by Geoff Colvin if you don’t want to take my word for it.
Anyway, the third year, the talent that came into the school was not quite as good as the previous two years, and that was something I simply had no control over. You may be wondering why my Aunt Barbara was not more help in moving me up the ladder and out of Judson, but I never really called on her much for that. This was before cell phones or the internet, so there was not nearly the network for job searching that exists now, so if I heard of something interesting through the grapevine, I would call her. Deep down, I didn’t really want to coach women, and she was not as in tune with the men’s side, so nothing much ever materialized. And, over the years, I came to understand that most of the interviews I got were done as a favor to Aunt Barbara and were not real considerations of my coaching abilities. Examples, Aunt Barbara hooked me up with Steve Patterson, who was the head coach at ASU in the mid-80’s. I thought I had a real shot at that one, and had a two and half hour interview with Steve in his office and left feeling really good. I walked in the door to my apartment and within five minutes the phone rang and a friend of mine said he knew who ASU had hired- he saw the guy moving in to an apartment a few days prior. It was already a done deal before I ever walked in to Steve’s office. Another time, Linda Sharp, head women’s coach at USC, and famous for coaching Cheryl Miller to national titles, came to my home unannounced and asked if we could talk for a bit. Of course, and she said there was a position open on her staff. We talked for an hour before she finally said that she promised Barbara that she would come by, but was really looking for a woman to fill the spot. She just wanted to meet Barbara’s nephew. I do have my pride, so after a few years of this, I quit asking.
I really knew what I wanted to become as a coach and needed someone to help me get there. The camps I had attended in the summers were fabulous ways to pick people’s brains, and I had all sorts of ideas floating around. I wanted to build a program, teach fundamentals, have a defensive system that would keep us in games even when offense was not so good, and give kids life skills through the sport. Our third team at Judson was pretty good, but got knocked out of the state tournament by Phoenix Country Day. It was time to move on and grow as a coach. And hopefully coach in a gym.
I called Coach Youree, who I had stayed in contact with over the years since leaving East High. Coach was legendary by then- he had won five state championships and was just coming off the 1980-81 season, where his team would be called the “Team of the Century” by the Arizona Republic at the end of the twentieth century. They were 28-0, and the closest game they had was 13 points. They had won the state title over Chandler at Wells Fargo and I had attended the game. Chandler’s young coach, Gary Ernst, had tried to employ a 1-3-1 extended zone against East. Gary’s team had size, but East had five guys who could all handle the ball, pass, and score. They did those things in abundance by spreading the floor and were ahead at the half 44-14. It seemed like the whole city of Chandler had showed up to the game, and I still remember many of them filing out at the half. It was a clinic of tactical basketball, unlike few I have ever seen to this day. Chandler was very good, don’t kid yourself, and Gary’s career speaks for itself. When I called Coach Youree later, I told him that I needed help becoming the kind of coach that I thought I could be. He suggested that I come work with him. I jumped at the opportunity, even though there was no job attached. It would be purely voluntary. In our business, and many coaches will echo this, it’s called “paying your dues”.
When I told Dennis Gray, the principal, and Joe LaMer, the AD, that I would be leaving Judson, they understood that I needed to grow in the profession, and were all for it. Good guys and good memories for me. I had one last summer of camps before really diving into the business, and then had to find some kind of work that would help Brigitte and I pay the bills and also allow me to pursue my passion. I caught on at the old Dillard’s at Fashion Square Mall. It has since been rebuilt over the years and for me is always the “New Dillard’s”. I would have never been even close to the kind of coach I am now if I hadn’t made this move. Many of the stories I have heard from successful coaches over the years have involved moments of great sacrifice to learn from somebody who had it all together. Coach Youree definitely had it all together and the Universe provided for me once again. As it turned out, I was headed for an unbelievable experience at East High.
Next…a Longhorn once again…
I never really had a plan for how long I would stay at Judson. It was just so out of balance with the world that I didn’t think anyone could stay for a long time, but there were teachers who had been there for twenty or thirty years. When I say out of balance, I mean that the clientele was a bunch of filthy rich kids, being taught in rustic surroundings, in a neighborhood with multi-million dollar homes spreading out in all directions. My “locker room” for PE and basketball was a converted storage shed almost off the property out by the football/soccer field. The basketball courts were at the other end of the school near the entrance, so I would drive to work in the mornings and park down by my shed, then drive out towards the basketball courts at the end of the day, just in case I needed to use my headlights. The classrooms were old adobe style buildings with very Spartan technology. The students always had more devices than we did. Their dorms were also old adobe buildings, but many of the rooms had better furniture in them than I did where I lived with my wife.
Going into my third year, I knew I couldn’t last much longer there, because I would not be able to grow as a coach. It was impossible to get much off season time with the guys that played basketball, because almost all of them played football, basketball, and baseball. And no, playing multiple sports did nothing to enhance their college careers and make them more attractive to scouts. That’s been a tired argument over the years, mainly put forth by football coaches who see every other season of sport as a chance for their guys to work on things that will make them better football players. If a kid wanted to play other sports, I never tried to stop them, but there were plenty of guys who liked basketball enough over the years who would just get better and pass those other guys by along the way. There’s a couple of good books out there about the power of dedicated practice- “Outliers” by Malcom Gladwell and “Talent is Overrated” by Geoff Colvin if you don’t want to take my word for it.
Anyway, the third year, the talent that came into the school was not quite as good as the previous two years, and that was something I simply had no control over. You may be wondering why my Aunt Barbara was not more help in moving me up the ladder and out of Judson, but I never really called on her much for that. This was before cell phones or the internet, so there was not nearly the network for job searching that exists now, so if I heard of something interesting through the grapevine, I would call her. Deep down, I didn’t really want to coach women, and she was not as in tune with the men’s side, so nothing much ever materialized. And, over the years, I came to understand that most of the interviews I got were done as a favor to Aunt Barbara and were not real considerations of my coaching abilities. Examples, Aunt Barbara hooked me up with Steve Patterson, who was the head coach at ASU in the mid-80’s. I thought I had a real shot at that one, and had a two and half hour interview with Steve in his office and left feeling really good. I walked in the door to my apartment and within five minutes the phone rang and a friend of mine said he knew who ASU had hired- he saw the guy moving in to an apartment a few days prior. It was already a done deal before I ever walked in to Steve’s office. Another time, Linda Sharp, head women’s coach at USC, and famous for coaching Cheryl Miller to national titles, came to my home unannounced and asked if we could talk for a bit. Of course, and she said there was a position open on her staff. We talked for an hour before she finally said that she promised Barbara that she would come by, but was really looking for a woman to fill the spot. She just wanted to meet Barbara’s nephew. I do have my pride, so after a few years of this, I quit asking.
I really knew what I wanted to become as a coach and needed someone to help me get there. The camps I had attended in the summers were fabulous ways to pick people’s brains, and I had all sorts of ideas floating around. I wanted to build a program, teach fundamentals, have a defensive system that would keep us in games even when offense was not so good, and give kids life skills through the sport. Our third team at Judson was pretty good, but got knocked out of the state tournament by Phoenix Country Day. It was time to move on and grow as a coach. And hopefully coach in a gym.
I called Coach Youree, who I had stayed in contact with over the years since leaving East High. Coach was legendary by then- he had won five state championships and was just coming off the 1980-81 season, where his team would be called the “Team of the Century” by the Arizona Republic at the end of the twentieth century. They were 28-0, and the closest game they had was 13 points. They had won the state title over Chandler at Wells Fargo and I had attended the game. Chandler’s young coach, Gary Ernst, had tried to employ a 1-3-1 extended zone against East. Gary’s team had size, but East had five guys who could all handle the ball, pass, and score. They did those things in abundance by spreading the floor and were ahead at the half 44-14. It seemed like the whole city of Chandler had showed up to the game, and I still remember many of them filing out at the half. It was a clinic of tactical basketball, unlike few I have ever seen to this day. Chandler was very good, don’t kid yourself, and Gary’s career speaks for itself. When I called Coach Youree later, I told him that I needed help becoming the kind of coach that I thought I could be. He suggested that I come work with him. I jumped at the opportunity, even though there was no job attached. It would be purely voluntary. In our business, and many coaches will echo this, it’s called “paying your dues”.
When I told Dennis Gray, the principal, and Joe LaMer, the AD, that I would be leaving Judson, they understood that I needed to grow in the profession, and were all for it. Good guys and good memories for me. I had one last summer of camps before really diving into the business, and then had to find some kind of work that would help Brigitte and I pay the bills and also allow me to pursue my passion. I caught on at the old Dillard’s at Fashion Square Mall. It has since been rebuilt over the years and for me is always the “New Dillard’s”. I would have never been even close to the kind of coach I am now if I hadn’t made this move. Many of the stories I have heard from successful coaches over the years have involved moments of great sacrifice to learn from somebody who had it all together. Coach Youree definitely had it all together and the Universe provided for me once again. As it turned out, I was headed for an unbelievable experience at East High.
Next…a Longhorn once again…
