From Somewhere, Arkansas to Springfield, Archetype

Growing up in Oklahoma during the '80s, there was no NBA franchise. Fortunately, we had cable. To double the fortune, our cable package came with WGN, which may as well have stood for What Great News, because that allowed me to be introduced to the Chicago Bulls.

Without a home state team to call my own, the Bulls at least seemed close enough in my mind. And with some kid from North Carolina -- who I distinctly remember a newscaster mentioning could be the next Doctor J -- I thought, "Why not? We (my dad and I) will tune in." Of course, to triple the fortune the Bulls later picked up this other skinny kid in Scottie Pippen, a much lesser known quantity, but from Arkansas, which was close enough to us. After all, I did have a friend who had moved to Oklahoma from there. The team was coming together.

Flash forward more than two decades, six NBA championships, multiple all league teams, and a gold medal later, and I find myself in a radically reminiscent state. Salivating with Michael's every move also meant being informed of his teammates. And the more I watched the Bulls, the more I was moved by Pippen. It was his development that intrigued me. A once fledgling, scrawny, timid athlete that matured into a bonafide, nourished, and all-around star. He battle migraines and Pistons and personal demons. He grew a 'fro and searched for his roots in cornrows and even went Mr. Clean. He dunked on Ewing. Ferociously. And he successfully jabbed at Karl Malone with a memorable line about mailmen not delivering on Sundays. He could do a lot. Glide. Dunk. Drive. And then, all of a sudden he could shoot. He could defend. And then he could do it all. He was everywhere doing everything.

Pippen's induction into the Hall of Fame this weekend forced a visit back to his accomplishments and how he captivated my mind. Below, a Scottie sojourn of sorts and ten reasons he was the man, even alongside Spike Lee's "main man."

1. One of the first stories I recall hearing about Pippen was that he wasn't recruited to be a college basketball player. More, he became the team manager, just a six-foot-two child that would support and look up to the true players as he did his 11 siblings. And what's more, he was so weak that when first asked to take up lifting weights, he couldn't bench press the 45-pound barbell. Here's to becoming strong.
2. Given the chance, he became a regular member of the team at Central Arkansas and averaged 4.3 points per game. He kept getting better, improved his game each year, and by his senior year was a top scorer with 20-plus a contest. A four-year player who learned the power of performance enhancement.
3. Scottie learned to be tough, physically and even more importantly, mentally. His psychological progress as a player plodded along before our eyes. He developed from a wire of an athlete -- one who was able to accept a certain complementary role -- to one who was the best player in the league in 1994 (only to be snubbed out of official MVP honors though he was the All-Star Game MVP). Even after Jordan's first comeback, one which Pip publicly applauded, Scottie continued to prosper and elevate his game. In fact, his Win Shares per 48 minutes in 1996 (.209) and 1997 (.203) were career highs.
4. For those who forget or weren't old enough to observe, Scottie became the leader in 1994. He led his Bulls to a media-surprising 55 wins (Pip played in 72 games that season and the Bulls won in 51 of his appearances). He took them deep into the playoffs. The Eastern Conference Semifinals to be exact. Game 7. Yes, the one people say would have seen the Bulls win if not for a glaring controversial call. Regardless, that season was his personal best with a personal best PER (23.2). And remember he didn't get another chance to direct the Jordan-less team through the post-season again.
5. Players with versatility stand out to me. And Pip provided the Bulls with so much talent he may as well been called Multi Purpose. During the 1994 playoffs, his usage percentage was a lead-leading 31.9 while his regular season effective field goal percentage was above 50 percent, a sound accompaniment to his career best 4.0 steal percentage. And what doesn't appear on paper is how he directed the triangle offense and made his presence felt on defense.
6. To speak even more about his defensive prowess -- a skill the league certainly kept track of to the tune of 10 All-NBA Defensive honors -- just picture a guy that can guard any position on the floor. The popular image is the one of him guarding Magic in the '91 Finals and completely disrupting the Lake Show. But what about post D? Wing stoppage? Just watch the video to appreciate. On-ball steals and passing lane thefts. Blocked shots. Chase down swats (before LeBron was even a teenager). And a defensive coach's dream: taking charges. He understood how to get it down in every was possible manner and relished the role. His steal stats and defensive ratings only provide a brief of glimpse of his mighty brilliance as a defender.
   
   
   
   
7. What else could he do? Everything. And even more, some say, than Mike the Greatest. In David Halberstam's Playing for Keeps, the truth be told ... There was, though, one move Pippen could make that Jordan could not: If they both stood out of bounds under the basket holding the ball and leaped out on the court, Pippen, without ever touching the ground, could slam the ball through with his left hand, and Jordan could not ... I recall Jordan even talking emphatically about how Pippen could jam on people in traffic with his left hand while Michael had trouble executing the move.
8. Even more impressive is a fundamental drill I learned about long ago that highlights Scottie's explosiveness, balance, and length. He was able to pick up a basketball from the court, free throw line distance away from the rim, and dunk it without a dribble. Immediately after, he could scoop up another ball from the foul line and replicate the motion. It seems nuts, but he could do it 15 times in 30 seconds. That's 15 slams in half a minute.
9. The bank shot. Enough said.
10. Despite all of his basketball accomplishments, his mind-blowing artistry, his overcoming adversity at a young age -- and even dealing with and coming to grips with his own poor decisions that may have lasted but a couple of seconds -- Pippen-haters don't want to believe in him. They say he was not a winner without the other guy. Well, the other guy was not a winner without him either. Scottie always had to prove himself, and that mission motivated him to become not only great but one of the best players of all time. The Knickerbockers were slammed by him enough to understand. How nice for Bulls fans to know Pippen was actually obtained via an original 1987 first round Knick pick until New York traded the slot to Seattle for eventually, uh ... Mark Jackson?! ... and years later, after Pip's tenure with the Bulls was up, he was dealt for not one, not two, not three. Oh gosh. Not four. Not five. But six players to Portland. Perhaps that is the true mark of greatness. Judging worth with a simple correlation: every player we trade for you represents one championship ring.

A Mindset Creates a Coach's Meal

There is a certain mindset that works in the bevy of coaches and psychologists -- makeshift or not -- who preach mental tactics to athletes and subscribe to the significant role of teacher within the ever encompassing position as sport leader. In a role that entails much more than where to sketch an X or etch an O, implore a halftime adjustment, or suggest a substitution, it is but a rudimentary and substantial stack of ingredients that produces the major meal.

The resulting entree is the win. Yet the contents that create it are surely not easy to find.

Chemistry, communication, and cognitive-behavioral cooking. Three of the C's in a course of physical science, social understanding, and psychological cuisine, all meticulously tossed into a bowl that (hopefully) becomes a sought after artifact.

In the 2009 NBA finals, handiwork is at its peak.

Eric Neel is on point when he writes about Laker master Phil Jackson:

I'm thinking this cat has stayed true to his school on this stuff, talking about energy, connectedness, intuition and not being a stranger to the moment as you've imagined it, from the jump, for two decades now. At what point do we stop thinking of him as the eccentric? Will 10 rings do the trick? At what point do we consider the possibility, in earnest, with nary a wink or a nod, that the guy might be on to something?

It takes something a bit extra to fulfill the feast, perhaps an all-too-important tweak in practice structure, a word-of-the-day suggestion, or even a smile and a "let's figure this one out together" tone that may separate the good from the great. A sea captain sees it all before the ship arrives. That which the eyes observe allow the brain to process. And vice versa.

Only the disgruntled and disillusioned fail to decipher the code of the visionary.

The so-called "stuff" that Neel refers to is a way of thinking, a philosophy of coaching, a manner in which players are dealt with as malleable beings, both blemished and brilliant. The yin and yang in Phil Jackson's coaching facility are constantly undergoing adaptations that, over time, manage to suggest the best is yet to come. He has transformed himself since the days as a Bulls assistant, from a wiry, sharp bladed elbow and mustache man, who once walked the Armory sidelines for the Patroons in Albany, into SoCals' shaman, a wise and old L.A. medicine man of sorts with but one empty championship ring digit -- and a knowledge of basketball and its complicated web of money and management that transcends those before him. He utilizes aspects of sociology and psychology to stress his values and to twist personalities into becoming one, like a rhythmic, sweet tasting candy cane that one was a mess of colors and flavors.

Be it a spliced film set to motivational music with scenes of Hollywood and hardwood, or an impromptu team trip for bonding purposes, or an exercise in visualization, he thinks the game. He sees the game. He feels the game.

He energizes it and it energizes him, though one could never interpret that by looking at him on the sidelines now, looking bemused, amused, or even apathetic at times. To Jackson, it's a game that reaches far beyond the painted lines of any basketball court and way outside the confines of any simple mind.

What remains fruitful is his unabashed way in which he will yell at a player, challenge a veteran, or simply state that his experienced star -- the one who most likely will not play for another coach and seems to coach more than the master himself -- shot it too many times and forced the issue.

It is often stated that players win games while coaches lose them. Players bury the buckets. They steal the show.

Coaches may lose games. Too often, though, they have already lost the players...and long before tip-off.

Jackson may drop another contest. But he will gain much more in the end. His players will thank him. He will embrace his megastar. His fingers will finally be full. And just maybe, as master chef, he will gain a few more believers.

What's the Point?

Well, at this point in the 2009 NBA playoff race, the point position seems to be point production -- otherwise known as scoring at an unprecedented consistency. Through Friday, a dozen players listed as point guards in the league (via espn.com) were averaging 14.7 points or more, with Tony Parker leading the way at a 28.6 clip. It makes no difference that Parker and the next three at the top (Andre Miller, Deron Williams, and Derrick Rose) are now out of the postseason -- the point is, and has been, making more noise in the playoff scoring column than ever before.

The next point guards on the list are Chauncey Billups and Rajon Rondo. Billups is the mature and effective leader of the erratically entertaining Denver Nuggets, and the player behind coach George Karl's understanding that this particular homegrown point means more to his team than anyone. Rondo, of course, is arguably the most critical point in the league now, as he pushes his defending champion Boston Celtics with energy, versatility, will and weekly triple-double digits.

Rondo is averaging 18.3 while Billups is a shade higher at 19.6.

So what? Well, the last point guard to average an exact 19.6 points throughout the playoffs was Jason Kidd. That was in 2002. And he led ALL point guards in scoring that year. Guess how many other points averaged more than 14.7 ppg in Kidd's calling?

Two. The previously mentioned Parker with 15.5, and Darrell Armstrong with 15.3.

Since 2002, at least five point guards have scored at least 14.3 ppg each year in the playoffs, with an average of just under seven players hitting that rate each postseason. Stephon Marbury led the way in 2003 and 2004, with more than a 21 point mean in each of those years, while Steve Nash took over the top spot in 2005 with just under 24 points per contest. Nash was ahead of seven other points during that period, all who scored more than 16 a night. Marbury's mark of 22 ppg in 2003 began a 20+ point production streak by the PG leader. Gilbert Arenas scored a ludicrous 34 a game in 2006 -- albeit in just a few games -- almost double the leading PG in 2001 (Damon Stoudamire)!

2008 saw eight point guards in the high scoring column again, leading to this year's revolutionary 12. The others in the current span are Mo Williams, Aaron Brooks, Rodney Stuckey, Mike Bibby, and Jason Terry. (Remember, these are players categorized as point guards -- they do not necessarily bring the ball up more often than some notable teammates, i.e. Williams on LeBron's Cavs or Terry on Kidd's and J.J. Barea's Mavs).

As I write, Aaron Brooks just dropped in points 28, 29, and 30 on the Lakers in his Houston Rockets' mothers' day romp.

So, with the three aforementioned point guards listed from 2002 and just three others the year prior above the 14.3 mark (Stoudamire, Sam Cassell, and Kidd), the point guard role has morphed into more than that of basic ball distributor, and it's happened at four times the rate. The game today is being led by plentiful point producers, or by lead guards, as some may now refer to them.

And why not? May as well put five out on the floor that can score; seeing how the game is now guard dominated with pace, penetration opportunities, and 3-point emphasis, it's no surprise. Further, the popularity and exposure of basketball at a young age, with year-round playing, AAU, and potentially ridiculous profits, has helped more prospects with guard-like physiques develop. Competition at the guard slot has produced a greater number of smaller and younger players that can flat out score and do everything else required of the extenstion-of-the-coach role.

Depending on who one talks to and what the situation is, Kobe, LeBron, and Dwyane Wade could be considered point guards in their specific offensive systems. The lesson from the pros: keep the ball in the hands of the scorer. If he is able to dribble the ball up the court under pressure, set-up, survey for open teammates, drive to the hole, pull up, and operate out of the pick-and-roll, it all makes sense.

As explained to me by one NBA executive, "Teams are terrified of turnovers, so do everything possible to limit passing."

Point pondered.

Study Time Creates Kobe Time

Sport psychologists are often called upon to help athletes improve levels of confidence. Specifically, consultants tend to work with a player's self-efficacy, or one's situational self-confidence. Self-efficacy refers to how an athlete feels about himself in certain circumstances, not necessarily his overall feeling in sport. For instance, a basketball player may be extremely confident driving to the hole, yet have lower efficacy on the perimeter (think Derrick Rose).

While trying to make a player more efficacious in situations, psych pros may employ various techniques, namely mastery experiences, performance accomplishments, verbal persuasion, emotional feedback, and, for the purpose of this post, vicarious experiences. Watching Kobe Bryant on Saturday, I couldn't help but think about his development, especially about his growth as a player while modeling (or vicariously improving) via Michael Jordan. Kobe has mentioned that he spent countless hours studying MJ. As a young player, he viewed Jordan's games, analyzed his moves, watched the way he interviewed, and more.

Kobe's performance this weekend only substantiated his study habits. After a dismal performance a couple of days before when he shot line drives, looked flat and fatigued, and didn't muster the showtime energy we are guilty of expecting nightly, Bryant came out fully fueled and focused (I guess the readers are correct in this site's latest poll). Elevating with a smooth stroke, eluding double-teams, and escaping Utah with a key win, Kobe seemed to become his powerful predecessor.

Many have commented on Kobe's striking way of looking like Mike on the court, in the air, even in the press room. But this day, he was him -- from the look in his eyes to the MJ patented fade-away to the intense smirk as it he was thinking, "You can't guard me." What really got me was the arm extension to complete a teammates' slap of a "five" as he strutted to the free throw line. The fluid movement that Michael made cool was eerily transplanted into Kobe's frame. My gosh, is that the old G-O-D in basketball shoes that Larry Bird reflected on after 1986's 63-point explosion, only reincarnated on the west coast?

It was as if Kobe prepared for the game by watching the famous Spike Lee "Double Nickel" staging at MSG or, better yet, threw in a DVD of one of Jordan's breathtaking takedowns of the Jazz in the late 90's. Was Bryant's mind ticking with images of a Mike-licking as he dribbled and sliced and soared and rebounded? Did he recall the long days of dutiful workouts and dreams of greatness as he zoned in on his uncontestable attack? It surely appeared that way, like he was re-creating moves from his mentor's days more than a decade ago. And with each point and masterful display of fundamentals -- yes, fundys combined with his athleticism are what allowed him to look so darn good, as in the ability to create space off a screen or refusal, to ball swing through in his triple-threat, to change direction with perfect footwork off the bounce -- he gained more efficacy, which, in turn, translated to global confidence and Lakerworld domination.

I wonder how Phil Jackson interprets it all...

LeBrawn or LeBrain? Looks like Both

There was no hesitation in his voice when asked what the strongest part of his game is. He replied with the utmost confidence and made it known to the world, as if there is no chance anyone can crack the unique bond between his unearthly physical prowess and cognitive superiority. Lebron James and his mental game are dynamic, and he defines both brain and brawn in ways that those before him have not even dreamed -- meaning, what 6'9" player do you know that can drive, dunk, dish, and defend like that? On 60 Minutes last night, the court King explained:

"The way I approach the game mentally. I think, team first. It allows me to succeed, it allows my team to succeed. Because I'm always thinking about, 'How can I help my teammates become better?' I've always approached the game that way, ever since, I mean, I was a kid."

Seems as if he does a gift, as he personally advertised. He said he never got into trouble as a kid. He stayed on the right path. He found security and refuge inside the gym. He developed a mindfulness from his mother and his moving around, one that allows him to this day to pay attention to details, to support those around him, to take care of those closest to him. His maturity is quite creepy, considering he is 24 years young and an unprecedented phenomenon.

Could he really average a triple-double sometime in his career? Oscar Robertson did it with no 3-point line and when assists were only counted on a pass leading to a basket with NO dribble in between. Could he become the best ever, even though he wants to become a billion dollar athlete with a business he is learning on the go? Will his overwhelming industry dream, supposedly developed from his self-proclaimed "realness", distract from his NBA championship goal? It's a different day and age from the one his idol, MJ, started -- but he, LJ, is doing his best to amplify the creation and all its unique elements.

Plummeting Minutes, Enthusiastic until the End

It’s the second half and the players just walked out of the 16:00 time out. Duke is down to Villanova in the Sweet Sixteen, 38-26. Greg Paulus, after not playing in the first half, is in. He immediately drains a three. Next time down, while setting up a play, the senior guard drives to the left sideline in order to produce a jump skip pass to an open Kyle Singler, who bangs another trifecta. A Duke stop and a crisp pass to Scheyer off a baseline screen opens up another one from behind the arc. And then, off a catch and square on the right wing, he punctuates the Blue Devil run with a stop and go elbow jumper. Duke spurt, TO Nova.

All of that happened on Thursday in Boston…except, almost all of it. What was true was the first shot Paulus hit. And the TO, though it was Duke who called it. Paulus actually threw the skip pass out of bounds, miscued on the pass to Scheyer which left the ball short and not in shooting position, and was stripped on the next possession.

For some reason, though, I found myself rooting for the lost Paulus, and for the Duke program to generate another miracle comeback. It’s had plenty, but, like a movie that continues to build for that Oscar climax, I was hoping -- if for only a 4-minute sensational span cued by the former starting court leader -- until the next break in action.

Actually, the TO that Paulus himself called came on an order of his mentor, the one who decided to confine him to the pine. Now, we don’t really know what it’s like day in and day out in the program. Or if Paulus remained coachable and was a programmed citizen in practice. We can only go by what we see, what quotes we read, and the reasons the coaches give. It seems the senior captain who started for three consecutive years and scored more than 1,000 points while shooting just under 40 percent from 3-point range for his career was outplayed in his final season as a Duke baller (perhaps he’ll become the next serious assistant?). He couldn’t do the things that were needed. He didn’t have the length or the athleticism or the penetration ability or the defensive lockdown skill.

But, it appears, he did understand the system – and, he bleeds white and blue. In the form of Wojo. Collins. Dawkins. Another in the list of highly aggressive, slap-the-floor, swearing point guards who went on to coach. As his minutes dwindled, time became scarce, and his fading career turned into a double-digit loss in a half-as-happy season. I know that he reluctantly tasted his role and hesitantly gulped the tragedy that was his to become. Just watching him on the court Thursday evening, attempting to lead, it was apparent that he was out of sync. He was trying to stay within himself, but it looked as if he wanted to explode and let loose a season of frustration.

Despite the newly obligatory position, he was still the one crouched next to the coaches on the bench, and remained the exuberant teammate that stood up to slap five to his substituted playing peers. He maintained the fireball of energy that allowed him to rumble in and out of the backcourt in Cameron Indoor Stadium -- and the QB pocket in high school. If anyone is looking for an image of a competitor and a developing leader, by the looks of Paulus on TV and in the paper, he is it. Congratulations to him on, what is becoming more less likely for a consistent starter in college basketball, the closing of a 4-year career. He dealt with a difficult personal situation, but stuck with it and gave it his all in his last game.

Cerebral Matter - March '09

Elite scientists are well-rounded... I like to believe this, knowing that my basketball players and other student-athletes at Caltech are talented in a number of areas. It's math and science first and basketball (hopefully) a close second. And many are expert musicians and artists as well:

"Some of the best scientists recommend looking for breadth of skills and talents in a variety of endeavors beyond the sciences.

In two previous posts, we argue that training in the arts benefits scientists in a variety of different ways. The best scientists are much more likely to be artists, musicians, actors, craftsmen, and writers than are typical scientists, or even the general public. Scientists draw skills, knowledge, processes, concepts, and even inspiration from their non-scientific avocations. Many are well aware of these advantages."

Leading and listening are skills. And being able to change one's mind is as well. Malcolm Gladwell explains.

Where are your thoughts? The past, present, or future? And are you now concerned that you didn't enjoy yourself when you had the chance? Some people could be suffering from hyperopia:

"They’re so obsessed with preparing for the future that they can’t enjoy the present, and they end up looking back sadly on all their lost opportunities for fun."

So, players DO think during the game. But not too much. And sometimes not at all. But then a little bit to help them later. Actually, it's all about having a really quick mind... which is an effect of practicing and playing and understanding the situations that may present themselves. Vince Carter summarizes:

"It’s all about memory through repetition and memory throughout the course of the game."

In-depth statistical analysis of the NCAA and NIT tourneys.

Even Bill Simmons is thinking like a coach. He wants details, man. Details about the inner game of statistical analysis. Simmons, like yours truly, was at the MIT Sloan Sports Business Conference, and the Sports Guy was seeking answers:

"I want to know Wade's percentages on contested, wide-open and clock-saving threes. I want to know how many uncontested jumpers LeBron creates for teammates. I want "mega-assists" (passes that create a layup or a dunk) and "half-assists" (for each made foul shot). I want "unforced turnovers," like in tennis (Tony Allen would be Wilt Chamberlain in this category), and "nitty-gritties" (some combination of charges taken, deflections, balls saved from going out of bounds and rebounds tipped to teammates). I want "Unselds" (a long outlet pass that leads to an assist for a layup or a dunk) and "Russells" (a blocked shot directed to a teammate)."

Basketball instituted a 3-point line, a shot clock, replay, and a host of other changes as player development made the game too easy. Now, how about an adjustment in Scrabble?!

Impressions of Mad Basketball

March Madness began again, and depending on one’s interpretation, the forms of the madness were many. Here we take various definitions and break them down:

A state of mental illness, presumably temporary – Ameer Ali’s flagrant flip of Blake Griffin. He did his best to imitate a WWF move, though Blake was wary of his own reaction. It almost appeared that the Griffin beast was subduing himself post-takedown, like he knew what he was getting into.

Ever notice how Blake gets into bits of entanglement and possible scuffles? There is a reason, though contorted and borderline insane, that an opposing player may rack someone in the (Bill Raftery) onions. I suppose Griffin is used to situations like that since nobody can stop him and he aggravates defenders beyond belief. I see a bit of Rodman in him – ferocious and frustration generating – mixed with Lebron – mightily skilled and unyielding at the hint of resistance. His breakaway dunk on Saturday? Look out below, and watch out for onions…

A feeling of intense anger – Western Kentucky coach Ken McDonald after his unnoticed or ungranted attempt to call at T.O. in the last second of the game against Gonzaga. He was glaringly perturbed, as we saw from his mouthing of that is “B-S!” while pointing at the ref who failed to acknowledge his plead.

Unrestrained excitement – The outcome of the Gonzaga lay-in made one of the Bulldog players’ quite enthused. His plyometric-like two feet bounding exercise that caused his knees to come all the way up to his ears – about 10 times in a row – was astounding. He had to have been sore the next day. Well deserved though, for sure. I believe a Siena player mirrored the same image, in just about the same area on the sideline. Perhaps a Saint was watching over that spot?

How about the final games of each night? Like the basketball world was waiting for excitement to build all at the same time… on Friday, the first O.T. game of the tourney coupled with another one, and, of course, a second extra period in the first Siena game where “we want Moore” nailed the two crucial 3-pointers that had Albany rocking.

Extra anger and frustration – this from the viewer’s perspective. Why can’t CBS try to figure out how to stagger starts of games so that when there are three or four games ending all in unison – and each is fewer than a 5-point margin – that we are able to watch them all in full? Would that not increase the viewing pleasure and ratings rather than having to open two laptops to access the free Madness package online? Or get out the iPhone app and hold a close game in one’s palm? Argh.

Overflowing with eagerness – getting to see North Dakota State’s Woodside go toe-to-toe with Kansas’ Collins. Talk about a shootout. And a fundamentally expert one at that. Yes, they can both catch-and-score, but their individual moves and the way each of them draws attention from the D is fascinating. Tight inside-outs, stop-and-go’s, crossovers, and the ability to finish. Woodside had 37 on 13-of-23 shots. Collins was 12-for-26 for 32 points. Though the latter finished with 8 dimes and only 2 TO’s… plus a big man who made up for any miscues – the same center who managed a rare tournament triple-double two days later, with 10 blocks mind you.

Maybe many were not, but I was intrigued by the Syracuse-Arizona State game, a contest that featured two zone defenses. One that is a traditional 2-3 and a Boeheim staple. Another that is a Sendek standard, an aggressive matchup – one that looks like man-to-man at times. Who said a game with a slower pace wouldn’t feature scoring? The final was 78-67 and five Orangemen reached double figures. And how about Boeheim's backing of Sendek's N.C. State release?

“I thought somebody was pretty stupid and somebody was pretty smart,” Boeheim said. “I’m not going to mention which one.”

Speaking of being mad, did James Harden’s stock sink in three days? If scouts are looking at scoring, then yes. He had 10 points in the biggest game of his career, and six of them came from the charity stripe. The game before, versus Temple, produced practically the same stat line, with a 1-point decrement. He averaged 6.5 boards, 4 assists, and 2 steals, but gee. I like his presence and the consistency he creates for his team. If the next level is looking for takeover though, that wasn’t it.

Making madness a mentality – learning about details of individual programs is insightful, like how team identities are created via certain coaches. What may seem unlikely for one team is another’s MO. John Beilein wants to shoot the three – so, that is what they do:

“The most important drill for the Wolverines in practice, not surprisingly, is a 3-point shooting drill. Players take 50 3-pointers in five minutes, and they have to make a certain number to avoid having to run sprints."

Rick Pitino is glued to statistics. The most influential one is the number of deflections his Cardinals create:

“The Cardinals believe success is determined by deflections, a statistic pioneered in part by Pitino. When they reach 35 deflections in a game, they usually win.”

Not sure how many defections they produced against Siena, but it couldn’t have been 35. The Cardinals only generated three steals to the Saints’ eight. And several of the latter teams’ thefts came in that second half span that pulled them ahead. Close call for the Cards, though it was bound to happen with the feistiness and quickness of that caliber backcourt. Look at this seasons’ losing results – a capable Western Kentucky topped them. And Connecticut’s Huskies ran right through their press for a total of 40, yes 40, points in the paint.

Coach K seemed mad with the President’s choosing of the rival Tar Heels, suggesting that there are other matters with which Obama should concern himself… though Coach K did later say he was kidding. If anything, efficiency was the name of Duke in the latest battle against Texas. The Blue Devils shot 50 percent from 3-point range, took 27 free throws, had 8 steals, and only 9 turnovers. The Tar Heels were just behind in those stats even though they play a much faster pace. Who is most economical?

Mad or not, act as if… this from one of the more enlightening articles the past few days. Harvard women’s coach Kathy Delaney-Smith preaches the positive mentality of becoming what you dream, what you imagine yourself being… “Act as if”, she says. It’s a way to believe, to convince oneself to play, to think, to be a certain way…. As if you are champion, a winner, a competitor. She sure is. I had the pleasure of knowing her, coaching her son at camp, and working with one of her players as a performance consultant. It’s nice to know that she worked to get to where she is, that she was driven to learn basketball and figure out how to teach the game to various personalities, and to dedicate her life to education centered around a ball.

The madness continues…

Analysis with the Aces

Just getting back from the third annual Sloan Sports Analytics Conference held at MIT. On the day of the Institute’s men’s basketball team’s historical run into the second round of the DIII NCAA Tournament (more on that later), there was quite a lineup to view inside the intentionally contorted design known as the Stata Center.

For a college basketball coach with an eye for education (and by the looks of the conference list, the sole head coach in attendance), the schedule was quite sensational – a highly anticipated hodgepodge of intellects and athletic aficionados. Always looking beyond basic basketball strategy to fit into personal hoops program philosophy, the panels provided content on psychological research in sport, techniques to utilize statistics that go far beyond basic box scores, and a dearth of hot discussions – many of which were astutely entertaining – from fans’ roles to front office finances to the fortunes of hockey fights.

Jeff Van Gundy mixed in noteworthy, nutty comments with invigorating insight. Marc Cuban played a subdued self, and displayed impressive statistic analytic talk. Daryl Morey paced dialogue with subtle promotion of the Rockets’ reverie. Sonny Vaccaro passionately pleaded for a new look age; specifically, a hopeful time when there is no minimum age limit for NBA players and NCAA student-athletes are able to reap rewards in the form of stipends. Dean Oliver explained, ever so slightly, that everything in basketball is measurable, albeit with enough minds and material. Armond Hill preached the importance of professional leaders and conversed of a commitment to team chemistry – characteristics that allowed the Celtics to clinch last season’s title.

From NBA reporters to ESPN writers to top executives to pro sport’s statistical gurus, this was certainly the place to be for folks searching for numbers and names that go beyond the typical terms we hear and read on a daily basis. The data only substantiated my thoughts about community involvement, competitive practices, group cohesion, creative coaching methods, and countless hours of statistical analysis based on video breakdown and play-by-play. Being crunched into one venue with all of this information and a variety of individuals was very inspiring.

Themes of Teams

It's been quite the unique experience this year -- one that encompassed the completion of a college head coaching season, and the fortune to view another very special program put it all together after years of maturation, sacrifice, and commitment. MIT clinched its first ever NCAA tournament berth with a conference tourney championship today, and I was able to witness the win in person. Knowing what the team has been through and understanding what it took to get to this historical point is extraordinary. Being a part of an exclusive club, one that is dedicated to the highest standards in academics and one that competes on the court, is truly incomparable.

I am very proud to be a piece of that precious moment -- to not only have been through battles alongside the same players, but to also share in the celebration. To have the seniors on the team call me out to the court to cut down a string of net symbolized noteworthy admiration and appreciation. A true team, a group of individuals who epitomize energy, excitement, and work ethic, is what was in Worcester this weekend. Fusion like that does not simply occur. It happens as the result of dedication, discipline, and a distinct understanding of how to maximize every player and coach.

As a spectator, one could recognize the trust and teamwork on the floor. Players were looking for each other, either to drive and kick or help out on defense or recover, box and board... play after play was picturesque from a team standpoint. Although not perfect, there was an overall sense of direction, as if every baller was connected to the same soul. The three seniors commanded competitiveness and underclassmen stepped up in their roles. There was no way the team was to be denied.

Understand that the process was not instant -- it took years of team building and imagining ways to enhance the culture of the program. Unparalleled off season practice, senior leadership, and an unwavering collaborative effort produced a team that otherwise could have been flaky and shaken. Development was apparent and devotion dominated.

Recently, there have been other stories of team building:

Joe Girardi is advanced and aware. He is not afraid to put away the bats and take in some pool.

Kenyon College created a sensational swimming program, one that is both creative and conventional.

The championship run of Trinity College's squash teams is unbelievable -- both in numbers and know how.

In all of these examples, it is shown that a program is in constant construction -- in setting new foundations and constructing stronger ones from what is already solid.

Sometimes, it's amazing how quickly a hired crew can assemble a building -- yet it's more astounding to comprehend the actual time it took to communicate the overall vision and locate the ground to dig.

Development and Devotion - A Program Needs Both

Posting Time

It's been as tough to find time to post as it's been tough to win another game. Since my arrival at Caltech in late September, I have tried to play "catch up" as the program has instituted several new approaches that will hopefully help its development -- everything from new gear to a new recruiting philosophy to community involvement. We have placed an emphasis on enhancing the culture of athletics and forced a focus on commitment. One of the major challenges, as I was told before moving 3,000 miles away from Boston, was the constant issue of maintaining solid practices due to the rigorous Caltech course load and unavoidable, yet unfavorable, sleep patterns. I am proud to say that these have not been noticeable problems. Though many players may stay up much later doing work than the average college student, they also sleep in longer. There has not been an identifiable fatigue factor in practice this year because we emphasized time management and allegiance to our team -- and the responsibilities that accompany the role of being a citizen within our program.

Though one may not be able to tell by the outcomes of our games, we are gradually developing skill sets and evolving as an entire unit. I knew patience and persistence would be values of which to take hold, even tighter than imagined, yet the development (especially of our younger members with no previous experience) is truly fascinating. And the fact that we come back, day after day, for two-plus hours of practice, ready to work and sweat, is a testament to our players' personas and strength.

Keep it Going

This is an exciting time as we anticipate our last half dozen games and await word of our recruiting efforts. It will be our pleasure to host the first men's basketball alumni event this weekend while the university's president and wife serve as our honorary coaches. And, in a couple of weeks, we will honor the six players who will graduate this year in a pre-game ceremony on senior night.

In our best road game this year, and perhaps Caltech's last several years, Travis Haussler scored his 1,000 point -- and it was great to have his father in the stands as he did so. There are so many moments that bring joy to this club, despite not putting up outstanding team numbers. Only one who is with us everyday can truly understand the impact the team and its values have on each individual student-athlete. These are players who make up some of the brightest minds in the world. They go out to compete to the best of their abilities. Can we improve? Absolutely. Especially with a clear vision, an understanding of the system, and tremendous leadership -- from the seniors onto the underclassmen who will take over when a new crop of players arrive in the fall.

Fortune in Southern Cal?

If we're fortunate, we'll eventually have a Jimmy Bartolotta, as we were lucky to get at MIT. He is the consummate competitor and one who will drive a program to be good with a work ethic that cannot be topped. We knew how good he had become -- and now the New York Times does, too. When I first saw Jimmy in a high school video, it was not necessarily his basketball skills that grabbed my attention -- it was his mindset, his leadership, his focus. I could see all of those characteristics in the way he played the game. By the time he came for an overnight visit in Cambridge, we had spoken many times. He already had the basketball knowledge and determination we needed -- he was a true student of the game who had already experienced success in high school. We needed his mental and physical prowess in our program -- I even made a home visit to his house in Colorado to demonstrate our utmost interest in him.

During his first year at MIT, he told me that he wanted to be the best player from the institute -- ever. Well, he has accomplished that. He now has more than 2,000 career points, easily the most by any Engineer, and he also recently set the all-time steals record. Besides those categories, he ranks at the top in almost every other one as well. How many players do you know that shoot over 50 percent -- from 3-point range? Oh, and also are at the top of their conference in blocked shots?

It's not the statistics that tell the whole story, though. It's his attitude and mental toughness. He works more than anyone. He studies film. He reads about competitiveness. He makes others play and practice hard. He will not take "no" for an answer. That is why his team is on its way to the best mark in history.

Beaver Fever is for Real

It took 11 games into the season, but I am fortunate to have been on the sidelines to experience it in action. Yes, Caltech won -- and we did it with focus and energy and an unbelievable crowd.

Why make such a fuss about one basketball game that ended in a W? Because the men's hoops program at the California Institute of Technology had not won a game the past 30 tries.

I have never witnessed such pure passion and undying emotion from a Division III fan base. It seemed as if there were more people scurrying in by the minute as onlookers cheered while trying to sneak text messages to their buddies, writing to them, "You better come to Braun Gym -- something special is happening."

Believe it. To be a part of a program that has not had the opportunity to feel the joy of victory very often, a simple win is a defining moment. We talked about it as a special expereince beforehand -- something we have been working so hard for after playing an extremely tough non-conference schedule that included three top 30 teams and facing other opponents that have won 20 games in a season.

The energy from the stands sparked us. More importantly, the focus of our players -- especially the ones that played 40 minutes -- was indescribable. To feel the emotion, the clutch plays, and the pace of the game as it slowly ticked away -- in an agonizing, yet controllable way -- with us holding onto a 4-point lead as we managed to can free throws (28 of 33 for the game) was a mesmerizing experience. It was almost as if I had imagined it -- after all, I had -- and the work ethic and relationship building we have done since September was shining through, apparent in our players' eyes and body language and eventual celebration.

We were up by as much as 18 and led the entire game. A group of some of the smartest students in the world, many of whom never even played high school basketball, were winning -- and securing -- victory in a college basketball game with courage, resiliency, and sound basketball plays. I was so very proud to be a part of it.

It was for real.

What could be better, you ask?

Winning a conference game...and then another one...

Practice Preparation is Deliberate

The folks at OpenEducation.net informed me of a couple articles recently written about deliberate practice, a concept that has long been studied in relation to expertise and talent development. The beauty of the work, originally from the mind of Dr. K. Anders Ericcson, is that becoming really, really good in a field is a grueling task for which many people are not willing to sacrifice their time and energy... or they are simply afraid to attempt. A summary from Time Magazine suggests the discipline one must have in order to nurture true talent:

Ericsson's primary finding is that rather than mere experience or even raw talent, it is dedicated, slogging, generally solitary exertion — repeatedly practicing the most difficult physical tasks for an athlete, repeatedly performing new and highly intricate computations for a mathematician — that leads to first-rate performance. And it should never get easier; if it does, you are coasting, not improving. Ericsson calls this exertion "deliberate practice," by which he means the kind of practice we hate, the kind that leads to failure and hair-pulling and fist-pounding. You like the Tuesday New York Times crossword? You have to tackle the Saturday one to be really good.

The challenge of deliberate practice from a coach's or teacher's perspective is the actual design and implementation, especially when the so-called leader has such a wide range of players or students in his or her classroom. Some students have no experience with the topics being taught, while others have years of mature skills. In order to take on an approach to teaching and learning that entails personalized goal setting -- individualization that actually promotes the overall team vision -- teachers and coaches need help. They need great assistants, daily practice plans, and even guidance from within the classroom via the students. In our basketball practices, which are deliberate by definition -- with organized time slots for down to the minute drills and challenging work second to second -- we provide leadership and team building opportunities for the players on a regular basis.

The enjoyment comes at the end of the day, when we have worked so diligently to achieve daily goals. The process may not always seem fun for the players, but on another level, they know the physical and mental work has to be rigorous -- deliberate -- to get one step closer to the program's vision. Expertise at the highest degree, as in the elite, is something that has been nurtured through devoted training sessions, coaching, self-reflection, and hours upon hours of physical and mental effort. Yes, there may be natural aspects in brain or body type that allow the greatest to enhance potential, but those individuals still must have the appetite to eat away their days through focused and intense practice and preparation. In a sense, they immerse themselves in the activity of choice to become the absolute best.

Feeling Fear, and Acting on It

As long as a team is winning, everything is great, right? Who wants to change a system or work on player dynamics or adjust defensive assignments when the squad is rolling? But then, somehow, the team loses. Bad luck? Too cocky? Not focused? Just a bad night? Whatever the case, there may be some blaming -- especially if the unit isn't truly tight. Sometimes, negativity subtly breathes underneath winning -- and then, when the moment seems right for it to pop its head out -- whoop. There it is.

The pointed finger, the belligerent, "I told you so", the "Why wasn't my number called?"... and suddenly, all of those wins don't mean too much. According to an article in the New York Times, people want to change things at the first itch of a downward spiral.

“With negative emotions we tend to have a desire to change the situation,” said Ellen Peters, a senior scientist at Decision Research in Eugene, Ore. But “when things are good there is not much desire to change.”

This quote actually references the recent fearful outcomes of the stock market and state of the economy. People are scared, and the accompanying anxious feelings make them run -- as in the flight part of the famous fight or flight theory. Bad times straight ahead? Well then... sell. Bad night of ball? Simple answer... the offense stinks. Throw out the playbook.

When the Chicago Bulls won all of those championships, programs wanted to run the Triangle Offense. Now, what do coaches at all levels want to learn? The Dribble Drive Motion -- because if Memphis can get to the NCAA final using it, then it is the best thing since sliced bread. I suppose more coaches would be knocking on Pete Carril's door for his Princeton sets -- if he lived adjacent to John Calipari's estate.

The point -- when wins (and money) accumulate, it's working and it's all good. Lose? Many immediately run.

From the same NYT:

Scientists who have studied the brain function have found that the amygdala, the part of the brain that controls fear, responds faster than the parts of the brain that handle cognitive functions...

If cerebral matter senses trepidation, "See ya!" Human instinct forces panic. Fortunately -- or unfortunately -- it is how one deals with that emotion that can overpower him or make him stronger.

Stay in there. Believe in the team and the system. Support each other. Physical talent doesn't always get it done (remember Pippen's Portland Trail Blazers?). And, if one is mentally tough enough, fear can act as a catapult for awareness and development rather than a degenerative factor that leads to worry and breakup.

The Value of Mental Toughness

Comparisons are natural. People size up people they like, they don't like, they want to like, they want not to like...and those that are like them or not like them or they want to be like them...ugh. Critics and fans love to analyze past and present athletes with the "who is greater?" dilemma.

Regardless of the motivation, I like the insight Michael Jordan provides about Kobe Bryant's development as the most complete basketball player in the world. To become the best (MJ talks about his philosophy in the sidebar video ->), athletes take aspects of other people's games and apply those characteristics and skills to their own. It's an equation of observational learning, modeling, vicarious skill building, and dedicated application.

Further, the talk of mental toughness is an exceptional truth that embeds the star as it hovers the basketball universe. Lindy's Pro Basketball 2008-09 has the story via BallerBlogger and 20 Second Timeout:

...it becomes quickly obvious that Jordan respects Bryant, without even a hint of condescension. After all, Jordan respects anyone who does the work, who has the mental toughness, to climb the heights. Bryant's done the work and displayed the toughness...

...Winter has repeatedly emphasized that Scottie Pippen's role in the success of the Bulls cannot be overestimated; on the flip side, Winter and West both criticized the lack of mental toughness of Bryant's current supporting cast, a weakness that became glaringly apparent during the 2008 NBA Finals. "The Lakers just are not mentally tough"...

The last comment reminds me of the Bulls gallop to greatness in 1991, which showcased the basketball antithesis of this past season's runner-up from LA. David Halberstam writes in Playing for Keeps:

Winning in the NBA more often has to do with psychological qualities than physical ones. Veteran coaches and players know that the margin of difference comes more than anything else from superior mental toughness. Quality players on great teams know how to win, how to finish a game, how to block out a hostile crowd on the road; they speak of the ability of great teams to bend the will of lesser teams to their own. If these phrases sound to the outside world like clichés, within the league they have achieved the status of gospel. In a season as long as the NBA's, where one game runs into the next, where mental fatigue is often greater than physical fatigue, what sets the great players apart is a capacity, in the dogs days of February, on the road, when their bodies ache, to see a game against a lesser opponent as being important and to bring a high level of preparedness to it. Greatness in the NBA does not just require great skill, it demands the ability to go out and play hard night after night, and the ability to inspire one's teammates to play hard as well. That was what set players such as Bird, Johnson, and Thomas apart -- not only their fierce will but its effect on the their teammates. By 1990, the Bulls and the Pistons looked about even; in fact, if anything, in terms of pure talent, the Bulls looked superior. But so far, the Pistons owned the Bulls because they managed to get inside the heads of the Chicago players.

The one thing a championship-level team liked least to do was to give off any sense of vulnerability to a contender, particularly one that imagined its fortunes on the ascent. And so issues of mental toughness were critical: Were you mentally strong enough to expose the weaknesses of a rival team and emphasize to that team its own weaknesses before that team exposed your own vulnerabilities?

They are Human, Right?

Sunday, I woke up to Randy Newman's "Back On My Feet Again" as I sat down to a delicious breakfast, and proceeded to read about the pressures that athletes face. Are we not surprised that professional ball players are actually human? That they, too, encounter everyday anxieties and feel unwanted stress on their shoulders? I suppose that society does not care; fans do not want to hear it. Why? Because the athletes are making millions of dollars, hence the "deal with it" message screaming from the public.

Problem is, there is a difference between a million dollar athlete and his million dollar mind. Often, the former becomes history, overtaken by the expectations created by the latter. The result is a million dollar splatter.

Once an athlete makes it to the big leagues or the professional ranks, is he not infallible? Just ask Barry Zito or Vince Young. Zito was the best pitcher in baseball, a former Cy Young winner with the curve of all curves and a free-loving lifestyle that was magnetic to friends and females. And then, coupled with the highest paying pitching contract in history, his boyish, unhittable pitching persona was gone -- along with his captivating personality. Expectations were too heavy to lift, social networks broke and friends dropped like flies. Mental caused maladjustments to the physical. Confidence became cursed. Freedom became flawed.

From "The Mystery of Barry Zito" (NYT):

According to [Giants' pitching coach Dave] Righetti, the mystery was that Zito, inexplicably and without suffering injury, had lost 5 miles per hour off his already modest 89-m.p.h. fastball and, also inexplicably, had lost control of his devastating curveball. “It’s not physical,” Righetti said, sitting in the visitors’ dugout before a game against the Cleveland Indians in late June. “I mean, he’s not injured. It’s a matter of confidence.”

In truth, Zito’s pitching problems are probably the result of both physical and mental problems. “He had speeded up his motion,” Righetti said, “which caused him to overstride.” Zito’s arm has been trailing his lunging body a split second too late. This causes him to lose speed off his fastball and to fling his curveball high, rather than snapping it low across the plate. He lost control of his curve, Righetti said, “and batters weren’t swinging at it. Then he stopped throwing as many curves as he used to.” Righetti said the funny thing was, when Zito threw on the sidelines in warm-up sessions, “everything was locked in. But the game speeded him up. You know, this is a tough game to be on top for years.” He meant that the greatest athletes, who have 20-year careers of peaks and valleys, have the ability to will themselves out of occasional slumps.

“I’ve made mechanical adjustments lately,” Zito said during our breakfast in late June. “My curve and fastball are better now. But your body’s gonna do what your mind lets it do. You have to surrender to the pitch. You try to control the process, not the result. A New Age guy told me that the last thought you have before you let the ball go — I hope the batter doesn’t hit it — determines where it goes. All the preparation, off-season work, can be done in by that last thought.”

Meanwhile, Young lost his mantra (or, followed through on it) -- one that he delivered after Donovan McNabb's controversial comments about the lofty pressure of black quarterbacks compared to their white counterparts. Young explained his belief in doing something else: if a player can't handle playing the position, then get out.

Well, he suddenly did that himself, to the point of questionable return. He became so emotionally unstable, a search and rescue suicide watch was in effect. Rhoden's review recommends not therapy, as Warren Moon counts on now, but a history lesson for the most challenging position in organized sport.

The pressure mounts at all levels. The good thing about the youth aspect, though, is summarized in what Todd Balf writes. When the competition is over, when the tryouts are done, the athlete returns to his true self, where he can act his age.

Says Balf, a 12-year-old can cuddle up and cry when he doesn't reach his goal (as long as his parents are supportive and not obsessed with early specialization and excessive competitiveness). A 30-year-old pro, it seems, has nowhere to go...maybe music is the answer.

Get me back on my feet again,
Back on my feet again.
Open the door and set me free,
Get me back on my feet again.

Dissecting QB Development

Great quarterbacks are a special breed. One of the toughest positions to learn and play in all of sports, a quarterback has to be mentally tough enough to handle pressure from all angles, both on and off the field. Saturday's New York Times article about USC QB Mark Sanchez highlights many psychological components of performance, from his father's creative development activities to his ability to learn from mistakes.

On focus:

When Sanchez took batting practice as a teenager, his father quizzed him on the periodic table as each pitch was about to arrive. While gauging the speed and location of a fastball, his brain was also attempting to recall the atomic weight of magnesium.

When he was younger, he dribbled a basketball while wearing glasses that blocked his view of the ball — all the while facing rapid-fire questions on multiplication tables.

And when he dropped back to pass a football, working on his touch by lobbing the ball over a goal post, he had to know who the 13th president was. Answer: Millard Fillmore.

On leadership:

This focus on leadership comes easily for Nick Sanchez. A former Army sergeant, he is a captain in the Orange County Fire Authority and a member of the national urban search and rescue team. The search-and-rescue duty took him to New Orleans after Katrina, to New York after the Sept. 11 attacks and to Oklahoma City after the bombing of the federal building.

“In a sense, it is like football,” the elder Sanchez, who is a regular at U.S.C. practices, said of his rescue efforts. “The group I’ve been with has been very successful. We live together, we work together. You can call the same play 50 times, and there’s always a different result. It might be a traffic accident, a residential fire — you have to function, react and deal.”

On personality:

His arm may be strong — he threw a ball 60 yards to Ronald Johnson in a season-opening win over Virginia — but it is matched by his personality. Sanchez plays with a let-it-all-hang-out vibe, always eager to look for a big play. During the week, he bounds around the practice field, pumping up teammates or peppering coaches with questions. His teammates have dubbed him the Mexican Jumping Bean.

“Leinart and John David were very methodical, in-control guys,” said Jeff Byers, a fifth-year senior guard. “Mark knows what’s going on, but he’s got a much higher energy. He’s very charismatic. The O-line, we love him.”

Catching up to Steve, at Nashspeed

The recent SLAM post on Steve Nash and Musselman's reminder about great point guards caused me to recall an unforgettable performance. I happened to be at the playoff game in 2005 when Steve Nash put on a dazzling display, willing his Phoenix Suns to an overtime thriller against the Mavericks in Dallas. He was one rebound shy of a triple-double and dropped 39 points on his old team. He also dished out a dozen dimes and drilled five 3-pointers (see official box score).

What was, and is, most impressive about the former league M.V.P. is his mental and physical conditioning. He consistently plays at an exciting pace, from a fan's perspective and a teammate's point of view. His capacity to perform at Nashspeed, both on the court and in his mind, is what makes him special. He can anticipate action as good as anyone -- and better than most -- and possesses uncanny instincts, characteristics that allow him to create and finish plays with impeccable timing and draw-dropping reactions.

It is important to note that he was not born with Nashspeed; rather, he became a student of the game. Nash understands that in his role of team leader and point guard, it is crucial to be able to relate to other people:

At Santa Clara University, Nash studied sociology, which - at first - was a way to avoid classes he thought he would dislike. However, Nash says he grew to enjoy his studies because the subject fueled his interests in psychology and people. "I thought sociology was very educational, if not practical in a career sense."

Further, to be able to play fast, his mind has to tick with extraordinary kick. His mental imagery abilities are most likely higher than other players', as previous studies have shown. Nash understands that his mental work was as significant as his physical practice:

Nash spent many hours perfecting his talent. He videotaped college and NBA basketball games so he could "watch the players' moves over and over, and then try to do them myself." Nash thinks the visualization techniques and mental agility so useful in sports will soon be more recognized as crucial skills for all aspects of life.

Nash's conditioning gives him an advantage, but more importantly, supplies him with steadfast confidence. In the past, he has not had to worry about staying in shape because he works on his fitness levels year-round. His love for soccer helps him maintain his form and his understanding of how to develop has helped him get to the top. Perhaps even more impressive is his ability to communicate and speak about his mindset. The 2007 Charlie Rose interview demonstrates Nash's excellence, as an athlete and an analyst.

To Throw, or Not to Throw?

Andy Roddick's recent racket hurls at the U.S. Open beckon the question: release the rage or hold it in? The exploration involves both moral and psychological issues. For Roddick, his moments of mayhem have helped him defeat his opponent. As a model of composure, he has been as unsure as the the levees in New Orleans.

His second round recap from ESPN:

Andy Roddick smashed his racket not once but twice, leaving it a mangled mess that matched the state of his game at that point.

Facing a big deficit, staring at what would have been a big upset, Roddick suddenly changed everything against a younger, less-experienced, less-accomplished version of himself at the U.S. Open.

And his actions from Sunday in the New York Times:

It was sometime during the third set that Andy Roddick's racket met its demise. As he whipped it to the ground, little blue shards splintered onto the blue hardcourt, the latest victims of Roddick’s frustration. It was not quite the twisting, mangling punishment he had given the tools of his trade earlier in the United States Open, but on Sunday, he did not have as much to be upset about...

...Less than 30 minutes after he littered the court with racket crumbs, he completed a straight-sets victory over the 31st seed...

I had a chance to observe a current pro as he trained at MIT two days before heading to New York for the U.S. Open. His practice was focused and intense, every drill, every point played as if it were the last in a championship match. As I watched, I was impressed with his concentration. He meticulously practiced his serve with his hitting coach

Then he proceeded to fault, I suppose a very unsatisfactory one in his mind. With that miss, in a shocking show of frustration, he grabbed another ball and took an controlled, yet uncontrolled, swing and blasted the ball over the MIT dorm that overlooked the tennis courts. He smacked the ball as if the target was the Harvard boat house that sits on the Charles River.

And then, as if he had released every ounce of energy that evoked tantrum times as a toddler, he was calm again. He drove the next serve right by his partner for an ace.

The incident made me think about the frustration-aggression theory, in that once provoked, an emotion can build to the point of such aggravation that it can drive an athlete to change his persona, if only for a brief bit. However, in that 60 seconds, a violent phase can ensue and cause even the tamest human to display anger, by the whack of a ball with brutalizing force or the hammering of a racket into the ground…a matter that toys with one’s mental toughness and a situation that beckons one to "shape up or ship out".

Roger Federer was once asked about the controversial behavior that may seem minimal, yet is quite long lasting in memory:

Federer used to love that kind of show but is now campaigning to stamp the practice out. He said: "For kids watching, I want them to have a proper example. I enjoyed watching Goran, McEnroe and those guys throwing racquets. I thought it was funny. But at the same time, I don't think a tennis player needs to act this way.

"I think there are different ways and I hope that kids get inspired by this more than throwing racquets. But then again, I think it's okay, too, to throw a racquet here and there. It's not a problem."

What is interesting from a developmental perspective is that Federer was not always in control of his emotions; he discovered how to control and motivate himself in other ways. He even took a Michael Jordan stance, and would tell himself that he is in front of thousands of people who have never seen him play before:

I was very emotional. I was never the angry person, more the sad and disappointed person. I would cry a lot after losing matches; I would throw my racket in disappointment. It was very hard for me to accept missing three, four points in a row. The first one I could sort of accept. The second one would be like, well, now you better not miss the next one, but if I did, then the racket went flying. I'd have to scream or something, because it just wasn't acceptable. But as time went by, I started to relax. You get on center courts around the world, people are watching, and you're like, "Well, now I can't throw my racket," because it's embarrassing. Today I'm much more in control of myself, whereas before it was a weak point of my tennis. People would say, "If you can get to him mentally, you've got it." And now it's become a strong point in my game.

It was never easy for me. Because people were constantly saying I was talented and that I was going to make it, I always had that burden. It was like, if I make it, then I'm only doing what's expected of me, and if I don't, then I'm a disaster because I missed on a great career or wasted my talent. I also had a hard time working out. I would ask, "Why do I have to do this? I'll just be tired tomorrow." But I think by asking a lot of questions, I was able to learn. And then over the years, through hard work, my game started to become really fluid. I never really thought it was that way naturally, because I always felt I had to make a great effort. My technique was always sort of nice, but I was shanking a lot of balls, and I really had a tough time keeping the ball in the court. But by getting stronger mentally and physically, my game started to evolve, and all of a sudden I found myself where I am right now, dominating the game.

Now, just a year before the interview with Billie Jean King, Federer faced a youthful Rafael Nadal and the former showed off his heaving ability (yes, you can see the ordinarily centered Roger unravel in the video below).

Normally known for his serene presence on court, Federer did not turn the match in his favor until he became angry.

At the end of the ninth game of the third set, after missing a break-point opportunity, Federer uncharacteristically slammed his racket to the ground.

"I was really angry, so I threw it out," Federer said. "I was very disappointed. I was missing one opportunity after the other. I really felt like I'm climbing uphill all the time, and I had an opportunity and I missed it again, and I just had enough.

"Who knows, maybe it did me good, and I kind of woke up."

Nadal, ranked No. 31 in the world, felt that he was getting under Federer's skin.

"It's surprising to see Federer throw his racket, but it makes you think you're closer to victory because he's frustrated," said Nadal, who plays left-handed but does everything else right-handed.

In his own words, Federer admits to his tossing of strings, although a Gladwell Blink second (a fleeting, yet significant feeling) reminds the tennis star that certain actions are not the brightest, particularly as they relate to his own behavior and his pocket (not that he has to worry about affording new equipment):

I’ve broken a few rackets over my career, but only very few intentionally. It mostly happened out of anger and not because I wanted to break it, which I think is a big difference. When I throw it I try not to break it. Rackets are expensive, after all – somehow that always crossed my mind before it left my hand!

Considering these examples, it is safe to assume that more rackets will be committed to the air and the ground. Amateurs, however, need to consider the consequences, perhaps from a "Don't try this at home" perspective. Roddick and Federer have managed to use aggression releases to their advantages, though a perfect, positive correlation between racket tossing and winning is doubtful. The pros have demonstrated their resiliency, their capacity to quickly recover from a negative thought and its resulting behavior. By no means, though, do they advocate for their volatile actions. Competitiveness can get the best of them, at least for a few seconds.

It seems best to continue on the track of regulated intensity without obtrusive eruption. Unless, of course, society alters its views and racket throwing becomes categorized as some sort of art form.

What Sports Do For Development

The recent news about Shaquille O'Neal, the self-proclaimed, “Eighth Wonder of the World”, makes me marvel. I suppose the giant does not know what to do with himself in the off-season. He was certainly absent on the tour when the Dreamy Redeem Team went to one of the genuine great wonders. Stalking a young woman? Free-styling about a former teammate? While Kobe Bryant was in Beijing changing his image, making new friends and fans, and earning a gold medal, O’Neal was busy getting into trouble -- or, letting past trouble find him.

Participation in sports helps keeps kids off the streets. In some cases, evidently, being involved in athletics also serves adults. Kobe’s passion for basketball has allowed him to develop as a human being, a distinguished athlete who we have witnessed transform from an immature phenom, to a controversial selfish player and questionably disloyal husband, to one of this year’s most fascinating and respected ballers. Shaq, on the other side of the world, has crumbled into an ancient mound of mouthy morsels, an artifact that undoubtedly takes up space and is past its prime.

Forget the Jordan comparisons, as Kobe so bluntly put during an interview with Stephen A. Smith during the NBA Playoffs (see video). Bryant is his own being now. He does everything he can to smile, stay healthy, and improve. Kobe has always been focused on basketball. Shaq desired other elements related to stardom, and for that reason, did not improve to the point where he truly can be called the amazing nickname he once gave himself. Could it be that Kobe has assumed a Darth Vaderish role? From good and young at heart, to evil, and back to good for the rest of his career?

Whatever the case, people will remember the images of Kobe in the Olympics, playing hard, cheering on fellow Americans, and complimenting his teammates and coaching staff. These are scenes and behaviors that serve youth well.

Stories of helicopter parents, adults who preach winning to 9-year-olds, leagues that ban spectators, and an emphasis on interscholastic games over school exams are more and more prevalent. Too many adults want their kids to be the next Kobe… or Tiger, Nastia, Nadal, or Phelps.

These Games demonstrated the two-way street of athletic development. Stars shining for other stars. Coaches demanding and supporting their athletes. Athletes striving for perfection with marked adulation for their trainers. Community building was at its finest. World-class athletes were sent back in time, to a place where they were young and dreamy and wide-eyed and excited to be next. There was, as there will always be, an urgency to win and increase medal count, but the examples of teamwork, dedication, support, and sportsmanship were both magnificent and educational -- even for the best athletes in the game.