Crooks

Troops die in the battlefield. I continue to struggle with this concept, but it has become painfully evident that I have to accept defeat in the context of working with this difficult population. Wins and losses matter a great deal to me. I hate losing with a passion, but I'd rather not win on the court if it means my players will lose in real life. As such, I intentionally draw frequent parallels between what we do during the season to real life situations. In doing so, I've lost guys (like Hershey) who could care less about the bigger picture.

I'm not sure when Hershey fell off the proverbial bus. It has been my habit to hit the accelerator hard once guys get on board. I figure if I get to my destination fast enough, I'll be able to get everybody there in one piece. In doing so, I tend to look straight ahead with an occasional peripheral glance to make sure everything is okay. Hershey must've fallen off while I was weaving through heavy traffic on my way to the promised land.

It came as a shock to me when I found out that Hershey thought about quitting the team. He told me this during a late season venting session. Hershey was a walk-on guard who had to catapult a returning starter and three top recruits in order to play. As has been my custom, I gave everybody an equal look during preseason and (to his credit) Hershey seized the opportunity. He was better than the competition and emerged as my starter. Not only did Hershey start, he averaged around 32 minutes per game (mpg) as a first-year walk on. I figured he appreciated that. I was wrong. His common refrain during our meeting was that he "didn't get me" and that "things weren't about basketball."

Despite his insistence on taking poor shots at critical points of games and having costly mental lapses on defense, I stuck with Hershey. Players quit because they felt I favored Hershey, but I remained steadfast in my commitment to him. I felt he deserved a longer leash than most of our players. He didn't care. Somehow, I had wronged him. The enormity of our differences became clear during that meeting, but the gulf that existed between us became more evident during a postseason award banquet.

He showed up to the banquet with a jacket that read "Crooks" on the back. Instead of wearing a shirt and tie (which players were required to wear during road trips), he opted for some sagging skinny jeans, a button-up, and a fitted cap. I was embarrassed as he stood up to shake hands with the College President. After some contemplation, I decided to use that as a teachable moment with him.

Me: Hey man. Why did you choose to wear the "Crooks" jacket to the award ceremony?
Hershey: I just did. What was wrong with it?
Me: You don't see how the President of a college could misinterpret that? The Vice President of Enrollment and a few Deans were there. The Dean looked at me with her mouth open.
Hershey: It's just a brand, though.
Me: She doesn't know that. It just says Crooks on the back of your jacket.
Hershey: Oh.
Me: Do you see my point now?
Hershey: Nah not really, but whatever...