Year 2: External Factors

Before each season, fans, sports writers, alumni, and even coaches, look at rosters and schedules, trying to get a sense of what the year to come will be like. You look at how many returning players you have. You look at your depth (or lackthereof) at all five positions. You look at the schedule and how difficult it will be to navigate, desperately searching for positive signs that a good season may be in order.

What many don’t realize until after the season are the external factors that cannot be accounted for, many of which have nothing to do with basketball. It would be pretty sobering to look at a roster and try to project how many players will be declared academically ineligible. How many players will transfer out? How many players will get arrested?!?

After you’ve been around basketball as much as many coaches in the business have, you begin to prepare for and sometimes even expect these things to happen. But some things can still catch you by surprise.

Tuesday morning I left for work with a runny nose, went about my day, got some work done in the office and prepared to leave for home around 6pm after class checks. All at once, it seemed as though I kept feeling weaker and weaker, hotter and hotter. My chest and nose were both congested and I felt like death. I loaded up on medicine and headed home to bed. The next morning I texted one of my co-workers to let him know I wouldn’t be coming in to work due to illness…

“You’re sick too?” he replied…

I spent the majority of that day close enough to the bathroom for the times when my nausea would get the best of me. As I found out later, so did a staggering number of others associated with the team. A week later, the total count has come to 11 people falling victim to flu-like symptoms.

This past weekend, we traveled to Athens, OH to take on Ohio University. A win there would mean we clinched the conference regular season championship. It was a big game for us, and for them too. It was their “Senior Night,” they started a campaign for a “Green Out” in which everyone was instructed to wear green. The game was nationally televised on ESPN. The stakes were high.

We were pretty confident coming in. We were 12-1 in the conference, had already beaten Ohio by 17 at home, and were riding a 9-game conference winning streak heading into the game in Athens.

By this time, the worst of my sickness had subsided. I still had some congestion and a runny nose that wouldn’t quit. But some others were just beginning their cycle of flu. A couple coaches had to drive separate from the team bus due to being sick, others couldn’t eat team meals because of the nausea. We were unprepared for the sickness making its way through the program.

I may have to double check, but I don’t think “overconfident” or “unprepared” were one of the pillars to John Wooden’s Pyramid of Success. It seemed as though our counterparts, however, were very focused, driven, and put themselves and their teammates in positions to be successful. They jumped on us early and never let up. The crowd was WILD! They were organized, loud and didn’t quit, even when their team went up by as many as 30 points.

Walking out of the gym that night, I remember thinking that I felt worse after a 24 point drubbing, than I ever did at any point of having the flu.

Ohio U is worse than the flu…

I hated their fans immediately after the game. I wanted to line them up and punch every single one of them. They said some of the most disgusting and hate-filled drivel that I’ve ever come across in my years around basketball. Two days later, though, I’ve grown to appreciate what they did.

They dominated our team well before the game even began. A group of 20 of them began berating one of our players because of how he was stretching. Making many references I’m sure their mother’s didn’t teach them. They were in our heads from the get-go. They were loud when they needed to be, they picked their team up when they needed it, and they were even pretty funny at times. If the game had been close at all, it would have been difficult to pull out the win in that atmosphere, regardless.

The fans, who are many times seen as entities that don’t affect the outcome of games, really opened my eyes to how they can play a huge part in helping their team win. It’s something that is difficult to prepare for, you just have to experience it.

External factors are rarely thought about in the preseason, but can be the difference between a successful and unsuccessful season…

Year 2: Homeless

There’s nothing more nerve-wracking, to a coach, than a schedule filled with road games. Unfamiliar gyms; the monotonous hours spent driving or flying to a new city. Thousands of fans who want nothing more than for you to fail. The dynamic of playing on the road versus playing at home is drastically different, as one might imagine.

There’s a name in the basketball world for those programs who play a lot of games on the road. Teams that go on the road, in a set of circumstances that aren’t ideal, and take care of business. They’re called “Road Warriors.”

If I had to characterize my second year in Akron, I would call myself a Road Warrior.

Due to a scheduling snafu, Akron plays all but 2 of our games in January on the road. We also have to play the toughest teams in our conference, on the road, in February…

We’ll need to be Road Warriors ourselves.

I knew at the end of last year that I could not live in the same house as year 1. It was too cramped, in a bad neighborhood and just not a good experience altogether. Fortunately, some graduate assistant friends of mine were also looking for a house.

I had moved home to Virginia for the summer since I didn’t have an income to justify staying in Akron. I always assumed they would find a place and I would just move in. But as August kept getting closer we didn’t have a plan for a house. It makes life a little uneasy when you’re moving 7 hours away from home and unsure of exactly where you’ll be staying or if you’ll have a house at all!

A couple weeks before moving day, I received a call telling me we had found a house. Relief…but it was only short-lived as we didn’t close on the deal a couple days before I was to move back. Here I am, 3 days before classes start and I don’t have anywhere to live! There was only one solution…one of my friends offered to let me live with his parents until we found a house.

I’m thinking this couldn’t be more than a month, and I had no other options, so I moved into their basement. What I didn’t realize was that my friend’s sister, her fiancée, and her 2 children from a previous relationship were also living in the home. I felt like such a burden. The basement was nice, but I had to sleep on a couch for the first month.

One night, I came home from work late, only to find that the couch I had been sleeping on had been moved out. I panicked, was I going to sleep on the floor? I didn’t want to make a fuss, it is not my home after all, and they were gracious enough to take me into their home when they clearly didn’t have much room to fit me into their lives. So for 2 hours I laid with my back on the pool table, staring at the ceiling weighing my options. Finally, my friend brought down a twin mattress from upstairs and laid it in the floor. So for the next two months I slept on a mattress in the floor that my feet hung off the edge of the bed. Still better than the house I lived in last year…

The bathroom in the basement didn’t work. If I wanted to use the bathroom I had to use the one next to the family room, which meant I would feel like I’m imposing on their personal space each time I wanted to use the bathroom. I began using the bathroom at the gym, and just holding it at night until I could get back to work in the morning.

Finally in early November, we were able to move into a house. A nice house in a different part of the city, with 3 friends. The rent was very cheap. I finally had a “home” I could call my own. I didn’t have to hold my pee at night! The only caveat (and the reason the rent was so cheap), was that the house was still on the market and had a chance of being sold, and we would have to move out. We reasoned that with winter coming up, the house market would slow down and we could possibly make it through the whole season in the house.

We were wrong…

In early January the house sold. I have to find a new house…again. And I only have 2 and a half weeks to find a place, then move all of my stuff to the new place. I got lucky again as the people we were renting from were amazing and helped me find a new place to live in, as well as returned all rent paid up to that point, and negotiated the same price for the new place that we were paying at the old place. I am currently moving to the new house. It seems nice…full deck, 3 floors, carpeted, nice neighborhood and a shorter commute to work.

During all of this, I still had to go to work every day, take care of my responsibilities and go about my business. Never really having a true “home.” No more than 3 months spent in one place. Always on the move…always on the road. A true “Road Warrior.”

In March I will be moving again, back to Virginia, leaving Akron for good, taking a new job. I’m excited for the next chapter in my life, but I’m certainly not finished with this one! We are having a great season, first place in the conference. We have a great team that could steal some wins in March if we take care of business. Thanks to our scheduling mishap, we’ve had to do it on the road. We’ve been Road Warriors…

I have a great opportunity ahead of me. I have learned from some great coaches the past 2 years. I made some great friends. I learned more about basketball than I could’ve imagined. I will learn from a set of great coaches next year as well. But I gotta take care of business on the road first, it makes coming home that much sweeter…

Year 1: NCAA Tournament

As I stated earlier, we had a successful season. At one point we were 12-10, everyone (including our own fans) had counted us out. We finished the season on a 7-2 run, entering our conference tournament as a 6 seed. Meaning we had to play in the first round of the conference tournament.

It was at this time that I received a call from my family saying my grandfather was very ill. He had been in the hospital weeks prior, but he just didn't get any better. He died the morning after our first-round win and I returned home to be with family. I had to watch the rest of the tournament play out on television. Our semifinal game was actually the night of the funeral. I didn't get very many chances to check my phone, but when I did it was a welcoming comfort to see we were winning, and eventually won and earned a spot to play in the final against Kent State, our arch rival.

I stayed home and watched the final from my couch. A heavyweight battle between the two most physically talented teams in the conference. It took overtime to decide the game, but Akron won after 2 blocked shots on one possession denied Kent State the opportunity to win the game. As the buzzer sounded I remember running through my house screaming. In my first year on the college basketball scene, I get to go to the Big Dance!! A much-needed relief from the events of the weeks prior.

I returned to Akron in time to make the trip to Chicago. A 6-hour car ride with a co-worker and his girlfriend. I played Angry Birds the entire way until we reached the city. For those of you who don't know, the NCAA actually selects which hotels its competing schools will stay in during the tournament. We stayed at an extremely nice hotel in downtown Chicago, something everyone should get a chance to experience.

The day before the game we held practice at the University of Illinois-Chicago. We got a police escort on the bus, and a warm welcome from the UIC staff. We then had to have a "shootaround" at the United Center, which is more for the fans and press than it is for the players. One cool aspect of it, however, was walking into the United Center, where my boyhood idol (99% of basketball followers' idol) played.

I got to walk into the largest basketball stadium I've ever been in, and the school I worked for was the main attraction! The thrill of taking the court while the fans watch you warm-up is something I can't begin to describe. Chill bumps would be a severe understatement. The shootaround went well and we returned to the hotel for rest.

The next day we were in the lobby of the hotel, preparing to leave for the United Center, when our Director of Basketball Operations told us that we had to go to a meeting 3 floors up. If you haven't crammed 15 division-1 basketball athletes, 12 staff members, and 2 radio commentators onto 3 elevators, you haven't lived! We arrived on the third floor and were led down the hall to the left. As we got closer one of the staff members in the front opened 2 large doors leading to a ballroom.

Music started blaring, it sounded like our alma mater...

We get closer to the room, the music sounds as though our band is actually crammed into a hotel room practicing for the game that afternoon. I get closer to the doors, then I begin to hear chants and cheers from our cheerleading squad.

How cute, they've gathered to wish us off...what, all 15 of them?

I turn the corner, and to my surprise, it seems as if every Zip fan in the nation was crammed into this ballroom, a room much bigger than I anticipated. As the players made their way into the room the fans erupted with shouting and clapping. Goosebumps again...

Coach Dambrot gave a short speech and then we left to board the bus. Police escort through the city again. People stopping, turning, squinting their eyes to see if they could make out who the important people inside the bus were. "Who needs a police escort?" they had to be asking themselves. Little did they know it was a 15-seeded mid-major from Northeast Ohio...they would've been so disappointed.

The game itself was much tighter than Notre Dame wanted, with only a 4 point lead at halftime. In the second half, a poor shooting night for the Zips proved to be too much to overcome, losing 73-64.

Thus ended my first season as a Zip, and began my journey towards reaching my goals...

Year 1: Middle-aged women and The Dump

My first season in the college basketball world went very well. The Akron Zips finished 23-13, winning the MAC tournament, advancing to the NCAA Tournament in Chicago. The Zips ultimately lost to Notre Dame in the first round, but made a great showing, especially for a 15 seed. This makes 6 seasons in a row where the Zips have won 20+ games, as well as the fifth season in a row reaching the conference championship game (a feat only Butler and Gonzaga can also claim).

I spent the year as a volunteer assistant. No financial help from the school, a whole lot of burden on the parents. I took a second job on the side as a barback at a local bar that doubled as a catering company to the university. I spent my mornings in practice; my afternoons spent making sure players were in class. My nights were spent loading and unloading kegs, changing taps, taking out the garbage, and the worst part: getting hit on by drunk middle-aged women. Don't get me wrong, I'm not jaded to the notion of getting hit on, but when the pick-up line comes out of the mouth of a middle-aged woman and it involves "taking out THEIR 'trash'" and making sure I get proper "payment," the whole song-and-dance gets old.

Side Note: I've long wondered about the thought process in a pick-up line. Does it always need to be work-related? Will someone come up to me someday and ask to "coach" my "team" to a "championship"...? Can we just make an agreement, ladies of the world, if you wanna throw a pick-up line my way, that it not involve my occupation? In return, I promise I won't ask to flame-broil your burger...if ya know what I mean...

I didn't realize, until 3 months into the second job, that I was supposed to be getting tips (outside from the drunkies wanting to "tap my keg") from the bartenders. I estimated the loss to be around $300...bummer.

I had a third job...unofficially, that is. I was placed in a home with a kid we had recruited but was a non-qualifier and had to sit out his freshman season. My job was to keep him out of trouble and get him to class...make him eligible. He is an enormously talented kid, a Big East-caliber talent. But he only does things on "his" terms and if your agenda doesn't fall in line with "his" terms, then you're just out of luck.

I use quotations around "his" because many times "his" terms were not even that of his own, but an ever-changing mix of the girl he wanted to be with, his buddies from home, his new-found Akron friends, and sometimes the Akron staff....sometimes.

I thought I could balance all three jobs, but as the year went on and the season picked up, my roommate began to miss more and more classes. I couldn't leave him alone, he needed to get to his late classes. I couldn't carry all three jobs. I tried to reason my way through the problem. I didn't come to Akron to be a barback, the only paying job I had had to go...

The place we lived was a dump...

On the first day we arrived, we got a pamphlet from the landlord stating the house was filled with lead paint, and we couldn't sue if we ingested said paint. Way to set the tone...There was no living room. I had to donate my couch to a friend-of-a-friend because the doorways were too narrow to bring it in. No air conditioning. The bathroom had a peep-hole (presumably carved by middle-aged patrons of the bar). The stove stayed on the entire time we lived there, impossible to shut off, it was never used. The longest hallway was 7 feet long and just under 2 and a half feet wide. Our neighbor across from us committed suicide halfway through the year. The steps might as well have been a slip-n-slide in the winter. We had to carry our clothes outside, in the snow, to the basement, in order to do laundry. My roommate fell through the steps when one of the steps collapsed.

Fortunately for me, the people I worked with were as good as my house was bad. Genuinely good people, and a whole lot of basketball knowledge to learn from them...

Realizing Part of the Dream

It's been a long time since I've written. But I wanted to wait until a point in time where my destination would be concrete. And as you'll see, that was something very fluid and nerve-wracking.

I'll call this chapter..."Realizing Part of the Dream"

After the season ended with my freshmen team. I began to concentrate on landing a job on a college staff. I applied everywhere that had an opening:

JMU
Randolph-Macon
Christopher Newport
Elmira College

as well as a host of others whose names I cannot even recall. In all, I wound up applying to 30 different jobs in a 2 month span. It wasn't until I applied for a job that wasn't even available that the ball started rolling for me.

I read online that Virginia Commonwealth University (VCU) had a job opening for a video coordinator position. I knew enough about Video Coordinators and how they function from my time with Virginia Tech that I thought I would like the job and would be qualified. I thought that if I had the right connections, I could have a leg up on others who may apply. I called a coach I know from Centre College in Kentucky and asked if he knew anyone on staff at VCU. Sure enough, one of the VCU assistants was a former player of his from a couple years ago. Next, I talked to a former Video Coordinator from the University of South Carolina and sure enough, he knew the other 2 assistants!

The only guy I had no connections with was the Head Coach, Shaka Smart. Until I read his bio...Coach Smart got his start as an assistant at the University of Akron, a place where I knew some people really well. I called my friend at Akron and the roller coaster began...

"Yeah sure, Drew, I'll call and recommend you, but I don't think that job is actually open"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm pretty sure they are giving that job to a former Grad. Asst. and are just posting the job to satisfy policy"

Ouch...I was devastated. I called the coach at Centre College again to see what we could do next, if anything. He told me a story about a kid in Kansas who got on the staff at the University of Kansas as a volunteer assistant. The kid was unpaid and worked a second job to pay the bills. That year the Jayhawks won the national title and that kid's coaching career was skyrocketed. He moved quickly up the ladder and is now one of the best coaches in the nation...Greg Popovich, Head Coach of the San Antonio Spurs.

My anxiety lifted, I was ready to start asking about a job as a volunteer assistant. I called back my friend at Akron to see if he could put in a good word for me as a volunteer assistant with VCU.

"Sure, I can do that"

"Do you think Coach Dambrot (Akron's Head Coach) would like a volunteer assistant?"

"Oh yeah, definitely! I can work on that for you."

I was sold! I had been to Akron twice to work summer camps and absolutely loved the city. If I could get a job there, I would be ecstatic. I was bouncing off the walls with excitement. My criteria for picking the places I would like to be went something like this:

1) winning program
2) friendliness and attitude of the staff and players
3) a city environment

Akron has won 20+ games each of the last 5 years (Coach Dambrot has been there for 6 years). Having met the staff and players from camps, I knew all of them by name and they were all friendly. Akron is a city, but it is also close to Cleveland and Canton, so there is lots to do and fills my third requirement of a city environment.

The only problem was...my parents weren't exactly on board. They weren't too keen on the idea of taking a non-paying job and having to cover me for another year. And if I was going to do that, they wanted me closer...somewhere familiar so that maybe I could live with family or a friend and cut costs.

During this time, I still applied for jobs, thinking if a paying job came along, it might be too much to turn down. However, literally none of the colleges I applied to sent me as much as an email to say I hadn't gotten the job.

Sometime in May, I was asked by my parents to drive to Washington D.C. and help move my brother into a new apartment. On the last day of moving I get a phone call...

"Drew, this is the Athletic Director from Ventura College in California. We would like for you to come in for an interview."

"Absolutely, when do I need to be there?"

"3 days from now..."

I had forgotten I even applied to the school. I had to act quick. I started to book flights, rent a car and prepare myself for my first interview. My parents seemed to be on board with it being a paying job. But there was a problem...I had to pay my own way to get there and get around. The cost would have been around $600 in total.

That night I had dinner with my dad in Baltimore. He told me after talking with my mom they decided I should turn down the interview and concentrate on Akron. They would now fully support my wish to go to Akron and work there. I turned down the interview and reluctantly said goodbye to my Southern California daydreams.

Flashback to 2008...

I had just begun working with Virginia Tech's men's basketball team. My first job was to pick up a coach at an airport. The coach was Keith Dambrot, from the University of Akron. He was coming to Blacksburg for a coaching convention. I picked him up in Roanoke and knew we had an hour drive ahead of us, so I might as well pick his brain. I asked him how he began coaching and got to the division-1 level. He told me that he got his start as a coach at a small high school in Akron, St. Vincent-St. Mary...and had a very talented freshman...LeBron James. He was able to use his stint there to propel himself into jobs at Central Michigan and ultimately, the University of Akron.

The following week I again got the assignment of picking up another coach at the airport. This time it was Akron's Director of Basketball Operations, Rick McFadden. Coach McFadden was 27 years old at the time so he was a little easier to talk to. I offered to show him around campus the next morning before his meeting with Coach Greenberg, so we exchanged phone numbers. Throughout the year I kept up with Akron and sent texts to Coach McFadden congratulating he and the Zips on making the NCAA tournament. That summer Coach McFadden called and asked me to work a camp for them, and that's where it all started.

Now back to June 2010...

I decided to go to Akron and work a camp in the summer. I arrived on a Sunday for an Elite Prospect camp in which their top targets for underclassmen were coming in to get further evaluated. I was standing around watching some of their prospects when Coach Dambrot saw me out of the corner of his eye. Keep in mind, I had not seen Coach Dambrot in over a year, and I had only seen him twice in my life for about an hour and a half total. As soon as he saw me he came over and exclaimed, "Drew! How ya doin buddy?" and gave me a big hug.

That blew my mind. Here is a successful basketball coach (who are notoriously self-absorbed) who not only remembers me from a long time ago, but takes time out of his camp to walk across the gym and make me feel welcome. I knew then Akron was where I belonged. That week I stayed in Coach McFadden's new house and slept on a blow-up mattress in his living room. He had been moved up from DBO to an assistant in the past year and he was well on his way in the coaching game. He and his wife could not have been nicer and I knew this guy wasn't going to let me fail if I did decide to come to Akron.

At that point I stopped applying for jobs...I had found a home. The NCAA had other plans...

Apparently the NCAA in their infinite wisdom did away with volunteer assistants for football and basketball, making it illegal. Coach McFadden decided to see if we could create a position for me, give me a small amount of money and circumvent the NCAA.

All they had to do would be for Coach Dambrot to write out a job description, take it to the AD, then post the fake job online and interview other applicants all the while knowing they created the position for me and would ultimately give it to me (much like what VCU did with the video coordinator position).

Then there was a phone call...again.

"Drew, I don't think it's gonna work out...Coach Dambrot's dad is in the hospital and not doing well...so he doesn't want to take the time away from his father to create the job for you"

"Is this a 'we might not do this right now' sort of thing...or 'we might not do this AT ALL' sort of thing"

"We might not do this at all..."

I was crushed...again...but understood Coach Dambrot's position. I wouldn't want to fool with creating a job in his position either. It just sucked. So I was back on the job market...

I applied for a job at Piedmont College in Georgia. A school in Jackson, Mississippi and another in Minnesota. I didn't think I was going to get a job. I thought I would have to spend another year in Gate City.

Then I came up with an idea. If I took one class at Akron, I could qualify as a student and a job would not have to be created for me...I would be classified by the NCAA as a student assistant and could join the staff immediately. Coach McFadden agreed and we started working on getting me into classes.

A week ago, I got a phone call from Piedmont College in Georgia. They said I was one of their top 3 candidates for their job opening as an assistant coach and wanted me to come interview. At that time, I had already firmed everything up with Akron and had to decline. If you had told me a year ago that I would be offered two job interviews and would turn both of them down, I would have said you were crazy...but that's just the way things worked out.

Akron has found me a house and a roommate, so it has cut my costs way down. They have also found me a second job working for a catering company to pick up some extra cash. This coming year will certainly be an interesting one, as I'm sure I'll be working all hours of the day to make this work. I'm looking forward to the challenge though, and I'm very appreciative of the opportunity. There's no way I'm letting this slip away.

I'm here...ready to start the next chapter...Akron, let's see what you've got...

Basketball Purgatory

As I stated in my first update, I am coaching the Freshman team at my former high school. I was reluctant at first to take the position, because coming from coaching college athletes ranging from 19 to 25 years of age, makes for a difficult transition to coaching kids who can’t even drive to and from practice.

Coaching the JV team at Virginia Tech had its advantages and disadvantages. One of the big advantages was that I got to coach kids who were good athletes and skilled enough fundamentally that I could get them to fly around and make plays without having to coach them up a whole lot. While at the same time, they were not athletic enough to be D1 caliber and have the attitudes that typically come with that talent. We had a good mix of talent and great attitudes, and when that happens the sky is the limit.

On the flip side of that, since they weren’t on scholarship, it meant that they came to VT not for basketball but for academics and other attractions of the university. Some of them already belonged to fraternities and school clubs that ate up a large chunk of their time. Others were in majors (such as engineering) that had curriculums that demanded a lot of time be spent studying. Then, you obviously have the social life of college students. These were all obstacles that I had to work around every single day. In the time I spent at Virginia Tech as the coach, we NEVER had every single player in the same practice at the same time…not once! Some practices were spent going over 5-on-0 offense because we only had 6 players in practice.

Coaching that team was a great experience. It challenged me to be creative and come up with ways to get the ball in the hands of our playmakers and put the others in position to make plays and help us win. Probably the greatest part of it was that I was coaching a good number of my close friends. Playing on the team in the 3 years prior to my taking over allowed me to build relationships with a lot of the guys on the team, which made for an easy transition to being the man in charge.

We were successful, but certainly not as successful as we could have been. We had the talent, size and athleticism to be one of the top teams in the nation, when it comes to JV programs. I guess relatively we were among the top teams, but we could have removed all doubt by having more of a commitment. I don’t blame many of them, because like I said, they did not come to VT because they wanted to play basketball, so I always took a back seat. We had a 2-year win-loss record of 43-12. We got to play great programs such as Hargrave Military Academy, Fork Union Military Academy, The Patterson School and Laurinburg Prep. We were able to play against many athletes who went on to get division 1 scholarships from basketball powerhouses, some players who transferred from small colleges and everyone in-between.

So that brings me to now, and the team I’m coaching at my old high school. At the beginning of the year we coached both the JV and Freshmen together, because the football players were still in the playoffs and could not be with us. We had some kids who were pretty good and it looked like we might be pretty successful. However, once the football team was knocked out of the playoffs, the JV took those who were our best players and moved them up to play with the JV. What we were left with is a mix of players who could be pretty good down the road if they kept working and listened to what we were telling them. The problem though, is that it wasn’t “down the road.” It was 2009 and they are what they are and its something we have to work with.

They moved our practices to a nearby Elementary School. We were practicing on a court that had no 3-point line. On top of that, every day at 3:45 the third grade class of the school came into the gym and got on stage to practice their Christmas play. If you’ve never tried to explain press offense while 18 children are butchering “We Wish You A Merry Christmas,” then you’ve never known frustration. I remember thinking that this HAS to be the lowest point of my career. If I get any lower than this I may have to find another profession. This is basketball purgatory. We aren't low enough to be in Basketball Hell (rec-league for children or middle school girls...only kidding...ish), but we're certainly not alive or in Heaven.

To add to those problems, we found out that none of the schools in Southwest Virginia even have Freshmen teams, so our entire schedule consists of Tennessee schools, many of which have enrollments of 1,500-2,000 kids. Gate City has an enrollment of somewhere between 500-600. I’ll admit, after losing our first 2 games by a combined 70 points I was a little frustrated and thought for sure we would not win a single game all year. We were on the road to our third game. I had already marked up the game as a loss. We were playing in a 9,000-seat arena that hosts the Arby’s Classic, against another school with a large enrollment.

Then the kids on our team really surprised me. All those practices where it seemed as though they weren’t listening; all the times we played poorly and didn’t compete; those instances seemed like a distant memory watching these kids compete and execute against a much larger team. We jumped out to an early lead, and going into halftime our talking point was to control the things we can control (which is ALWAYS a talking point).

When I talk about “things we can control,” I am talking about those things that cannot be dictated by any outside forces. For instance, we alone control our attitude. You make a conscious choice every day to have a good or bad attitude. These kids could choose to listen, or they could choose to think we’re full of it and do it their own way. Then in-game situations like boxing out on rebounds, turning the ball over and playing sound defense are all things we can control every possession of every game. We cannot control if our shots will fall, we cannot control the refs, we cannot control what sets the other team will run. I am a firm believer that if you do control the facets of the game that you are able to, then you will be successful.

If we take care of the ball, play sound defense, box out and limit them to (maximum) one shot per possession we were going to win this game. Fortunately, we took care of business and got our first win of the season. I’m not sure I’ve been more proud of a group of kids in my admittedly short basketball career. No one gave them a chance. I didn’t give them much of a chance and I was their coach! It was at that point that I realized that I’m not the only one teaching about the game of basketball. It seems as though these kids are teaching me a thing or two along the way as well. I won’t count us out again. The resiliency of these kids is amazing. I may be a teacher, but I’m still learning, and it will be a long process.

Mission Statement

I plan for this blog to serve as a "journal" of sorts. A daily (weekly, monthly) account of the ups and downs of trying to accomplish a life-long dream...to coach in the Final Four

When the blog (and my life) gets further along, maybe it will be interesting enough to show the ins and outs of what it's like as a basketball coach. For now, this is simply a way to keep track of where I want to go, but more importantly, where I've been. Let this first entry serve as an explanation of my goals and why I hold on to them so tightly (a "Mission Statement" if you will...).

I'll start from the beginning...

Growing up I never really liked basketball. Not to say that I hated it or disliked it, I just liked football and baseball much better. Opening an old yearbook from when I was 6 or 7, there was a list of questions and among them was written "When I grow up, I want to be..." and then in some child-like scribbling (that surprisingly looks much like how I write to this day) was written "A football or baseball player". I remember reading this for the first time and feeling a little disappointed with my former self.

Really, 6 year-old Drew?? Baseball? Gonna burst your bubble here and let you know you quit playing after fourth grade. And football only lasted until Middle School. Here was a perfect opportunity to make me look like a prophet and write something like "I want to be a jobless college graduate aspiring to be a college basketball coach." Is that too much to ask?? I won't be too hard on myself, and I'll chalk it up to youth. Especially considering that according to the very next line, my favorite saying was "I want some carrot cake!"

Profound, Drew...profound...

Little did I know that someone would be brought into my life that would set forth a series of events that changed my life as I know it. My mother runs a program in three counties and one city that helps high school drop-outs get their GED. While I was in the third grade, she was finishing the process of moving into a brand new office space that would allow her to expand her outreach. My father was an attorney at the time for a company in Wise County called the Department of Mines, Minerals and Energy. This meant that neither of them could be home immediately after my brother or myself returned from school.

My mother decided to enlist a babysitter to help take care of us until she could return home from work. We went through your ordinary list if suspects, high school girls looking for extra money and responsibility, family friends, etc. Then my mother finally settled on one...Peggy Munsey. Peggy was an African-American lady in her 50s, and you have to understand that growing up in Southwest Virginia, African-American people are hard to come by. I was fortunate in that my parents always taught me equality, and I simply didn't feel there was much difference between herself and my family. Maybe she was just really tan? I didn't know, but more importantly, I didn't care.

Peggy was an EXCELLENT cook. Anything my brother or I wanted she would make it, and she would make it better than anyone else would. One of my earliest memories of her cooking was going home after being at her house for dinner, only to tell my mother when I arrived back home, "Peggy makes good food...you should too." Ouch! Thankfully I was 6. My mother decided to ask me what she made so she could learn to make it like her. The only problem was, I never questioned what exactly it was that she made, I just knew it was good and I ate it. Mom spent HOURS going through our cabinet, showing me different foods to see if I could recognize what it was she made...I couldn't. Finally, mom called Peggy and asked her what it was.

"Cabbage!" Peggy replied.

Being six, I wasn't a fan of vegetables, but with the way Peggy made it, and my trust that she would NEVER try to feed me anything that wasn't laced with sugar, I simply ate and didn't ask questions. Boy did she trick me...

Maybe you're wondering what any of this has to do with basketball. Well, through her cooking, Peggy found a way to my heart. I loved that woman, and trusted her explicitly. So when I came over one night and found her glued to the television set watching a funny sport called basketball, I knew instantly it would be something I would like. She explained to me the rules and how everything was scored. We watched for a long time. It was her favorite team, the Kansas Jayhawks. She talked to me about how much more enjoyable college basketball was, compared to the NBA, since college basketball players "still had a love for the game."

It was from that moment that I wanted to learn as much as I could about the game. Sure, I had seen Michael Jordan on TV, and generally knew of his greatness, but the NBA wasn't where my interest lied. That was reserved for those who truly loved the game.

That Spring, I watched my first Final Four. It was perfect timing, because at that time, the Fab 5 was in its prime at Michigan. I watched in the championship game as Chris Webber called a time-out with 11 seconds remaining, only to realize they were out of time-outs, sealing the game for North Carolina. What a Final Four to cut my teeth on, huh? I was hooked!

Also at this time, I was playing Minor League baseball (not THAT minor league) this was a step-below Little League where you hit off of a pitching machine and then one of the parents pitched to you the last four games of the season. I thought I was on track to becoming a Major League STAR! But I ran into a couple of problems. The biggest problem was that I sucked...horribly. I think I got 3 hits the entire season. But hey, that's OK, I think the pitching machine was using petroleum jelly on the balls...but only when I was up to bat. The other problem was that I had a knack for getting hit in the head by the ball.

The first couple of times I was hit in the head were when I was up to bat and (of course) they were calibrating the machine to pitch in the strike zone so I had to stand in and take a couple pitches. I was hit in the head 3 times by the machine. The fourth came near the end of the year when one of the parents was pitching and obviously saw me as a threat to his sons team, with my .001 batting average and all. So I was beaned in the head again. This wasn't enough to make me quit though, I was tough. I was also a 2nd baseman, and played the position relatively well (relative to the kid on our team allergic to the sun). But during one game a ball was hit to right-center field, and was gathered by our center fielder. I turned to see where the runners were, and at that time the center fielder threw a liner intended for the catcher at home to tag the runner out. The problem here was that my head was directly in-between point A and point B. I blacked out for a second, then left the field.

The next spring I picked up tennis...

I decided I needed to start to play basketball for an official team. I didn't care who. At the time you had three options. The first was to play rec-league basketball and their season had already started. The second was to play for a traveling team called the Rockets, which is who most of my friends played for, but their tryouts had come and passed. The third was an AAU team called Scott County AAU, coached by Tommy Whitley. I knew nothing of it at the time, until one of my good friends told me he was going to the cafeteria to sign up for basketball, and asked if I was signing up too. I said I didn't know about it but he asked me to join him. Thankfully I went and signed up for an AAU team, which was the highest league a fourth-grader could play in. I didn't know the difference (I'm noticing a theme of not knowing a lot of things), I just wanted to play basketball. The next week they held try-outs and there were even kids from outside the county who had come to try out. I thought for sure my friend would make it and that I wouldn't. I was too new to the game, maybe next year. Turned out that I made the squad but my friend didn't, it was a bittersweet moment.

I didn't realize how much I liked it, nor did I realize I was better than I thought. I started all of our games as a power forward, since I was a little taller than most of the kids on the team. We were pretty good for our area, only losing a handful of games, but I longed to play on the same team as the majority of my friends. The next summer Scott Co. AAU dissolved and the Rockets decided to become an official AAU program. They took a couple of the players from the Scott Co. team and I was among them. They asked what number I wanted, and up until that point I had wore the jersey of my boyhood idol, Michael Jordan...

"23" I said.

"I'm sorry, Tyler has already taken that number." The coach replied.

I was in shock, I couldn't think, so I blurted out the next number close to 23 that was still available..."22, I guess"

I fell in love with the number (used it all the way through college) and still use it regularly to this day. My email account is "drewscott22@...." and another blog of mine is entitled "todayinsports22.blogspot" because todayinsports.blogspot was already taken.

I played with that program for the next four years, culminating with our most successful year in which we earned a berth to play in the AAU National Championship Tournament in Memphis, TN. That tournament was a big thrill for me. It was my first taste of basketball on a big stage, and I got to share it with a great group of friends. This taste of big-time basketball was much like your first taste of sugar, or a drug addict's first high. I needed more. I needed to be back. This is where I belong.

The next 5 years were spent playing for the JV and Varsity programs at my high school. I had developed enough to move to Point Guard on the JV, in my 8th grade year. The following Summer I grew from 5'11 to 6'2, and moved over to Shooting Guard. By my Senior year, I was 6'3 and splitting time between Shooting Guard and Small Forward.

My Senior year, we made it to the Championship game of our district tournament. We were playing against the John I. Burton Raiders, a team we had beaten twice before in the season. The gym at Appalachia (neutral host site) was packed. Since we were undefeated in the district and we had dominated for three years, the crowd was mostly anti-Gate City. So when the Raiders came out firing and racked up a 29 point lead (44-15) at halftime, the gym was rocking. I remember making my way to the locker room at the corner of the baseline, only to be bumped in to by some Gate City fans who had seen enough and were going home. Our coach fired us up at halftime and we decided we weren't going to lay down. We owed it to ourselves to come out swinging.

From the very moment the ball was inbounded in the third quarter, we took control of the game. 7 seconds into the half we stole a pass and converted a lay-up and a foul at the other end to get things going. I decided I wasn't going to let my fear of the unknown control my play and started to play well out of my comfort zone. I still vividly remember the last couple of plays in the third quarter. One of my teammates nailed two free throws to pull us within 16 points, with 1:30 left in the third quarter. We get them to turn the ball over on the defensive end, and they were playing a soft zone. I got into a gap at the 3-point line and my teammate delivered a perfect pass and I hurled it up...BANG! Down 13, the Gate City fans (what was left) had come to life...were we really back in this thing?!

Feeling the pressure Burton turned the ball over yet again leading to a fast break, I was in the corner and received a pass, drove baseline and met their 6'8 center. I pump faked once to get him in the air, then shot the ball away from his arms, up and in....Down 11...30 seconds left in the third. The crowd knew if we could get the score to within single digits, we had a real shot at winning. We buckled down and wanted one last defensive stop...."DE-FENSE!" The crowd shouted. We had won over the fans who had were neutral, it was a true comeback story.

The point guard for Burton wanted to dribble the time down and make a play at the end of the quarter. It seemed as though it was just our night, as he dribbled the ball off his foot and I picked it up, he fouled me diving for the loose ball and the crowd went NUTS! We had scored 15 points total in the first half, and were down by almost 30! Here we were, 7 seconds left in the third quarter and now we were only down 11. I inbounded the ball to our star player, and laid back to take a look at the gaps in their defense. They forgot about me and then I sprinted to the 3-point line. My teammate drew the defense to him, then delivered a pass to me...

3...2...1...

It's what every kid dreams of, the ball in your hands with the game hanging in the balance. I would always shoot around on my hoop in the driveway growing up, and just like every other kid in America, I would pretend I had the ball with the clock ticking down. I'd yell it out, "Scott has the ball...3, 2, 1...HE SHOOTS!" It's funny how there was always time put back on the clock if you missed the shot, but that's not the case in real life. In life, many only get one chance at a moment of greatness and if you fail, you can't make up a scenario to give yourself a second try.

Back in the gym, I receive the pass...I feel the pressure I had put on myself as a kid to make that shot as the time runs down. I remember the coaching I had received and quickly went through the shooting check list.

Knees bent...eyes up, looking at the rim...elbow in.

I started my shot.

Push off with my toes...elbow comes up straight through the ball...flick my wrist at the top of my jump and never take my eyes off the rim.

It seemed like forever watching the ball in the air. The gym went perfectly silent. A collective deep breath sucked all the oxygen out of the room. My teammates and coaches on the bench stood up with their hands raised, hoping I would make the shot. Finally, the ball gets to the rim (seemingly an hour later) and SWISH! Nothing but net!

Suddenly I'm a little kid again. Running around in my driveway, hands raised high, playing the part of player/coach/announcer, even the referee. Only this was now reality. You think you know exactly what you'll do in a given situation. I had practiced it my whole life. Should I act like I've done it before and simply go sit and prepare for the fourth quarter? Should I high-five teammates? Should I high-five fans?!? You can't prepare yourself for moments like that, I simply turned and screamed the loudest scream I could muster. All the work I had put into this sport for the better part of ten years, and all the frustration that came with the many times I failed in basketball (as well as life). All the sweat, tears, bruises and broken bones that had gotten me to that point, all came out in one loud yell. In a quiet room, it was the kind of scream that would make you think someone was being murdered. But in that gymnasium, I couldn't even hear the scream myself. I'm not even sure if anything came out of my mouth.

As exciting as it was, we still had a whole quarter to play. Fortunately, our star player, who had been held in check for most of the game, took over during the fourth quarter. He scored 21 points total in the second half, led us to a 77-70 victory and our third straight district championship.

The closing seconds of the game, I was fouled on consecutive possessions and got to shoot free throws to ice the game away. The buzzer sounded and we had won, 77-70. After only scoring 15 points in the first half, we scored 62 points in the second half and completed an amazing comeback. I scored a career-high 28 points and had played all but two minutes of the second half, I was ready to collapse.

I was never seen as one of our better players, I had never been interviewed by the paper after a game. I was a role player who had the game of his life. And when the reporters rushed me after the game I was still catching my breath. My brother held me up and I got out maybe 4 or 5 words. I was too excited, too tired physically and emotionally. Little kids suddenly wanted my autograph (surprise, surprise...it's worth nothing). Classmates wanted to congratulate me, kids from other schools I had never met were suddenly my "best friend from way back."

Just another taste of basketball on a big stage...

I was hooked...again.

There was some talk that some college scouts had seen the game and were going to start recruiting me, whether that was true or not I had already done early admission to Virginia Tech in December and that is where I wanted to be. I was a fourth-generation Hokie, and it's where I always knew I would go to school.

I spent five (read as: "four"...please?) amazing years at Virginia Tech, where I was able to gain experience coaching and playing. For three years, I played and started for the JV Basketball team at VT, and when the coach stepped down my Junior year, some of my teammates wanted me to coach. I wound up coaching the team for my last two years at VT. My time as their coach was invaluable to me, as I was able to form my coaching philosophy and find out what worked and what didn't. I was able to run every aspect of the program; from scheduling, to travel arrangements, to practice and skill development...it was a great experience. I also worked for a year as an assistant coach at Pulaski High School, a job that was made available by my first high school coach, who coached at the school when he was my age. I also worked as a player on the scout team for the women's basketball team at Virginia Tech for four years and made some good connections there with a great group of people. Finally, my last year at VT I worked as a student assistant for a semester, then took the second semester to concentrate on graduating on time...ish

Which brings me to right now. I will coach the 9th grade basketball team this winter at my old high school, and then the plan is to go back to school and get my Master's degree while working as a Graduate Assistant next fall. I will use this blog to update my path to the top. Along the way, I'll post stories I've heard from different people surrounding basketball and any new progress towards my goal. If anyone ever happens upon this blog, I hope you enjoy it. But I want to be clear, this is for me. This is my journey, this is my life.

This is my march to madness...