Coach Carter

I cut my nose to spite my face. I've never even seen the movie "Coach Carter", but some of my players have accused me of trying too hard to emulate the Hollywood reenactment of an African American coach who went above and beyond to redirect some troubled teens. I've levied quite a few suspensions over the years to teach lessons, but rarely does it feel like I'm punishing anybody other than myself.

During my second year on the job, I suspended my leading scorer from five different games for various infractions--a couple of which involved not showing up to class for weeks at a time. We finished the regular season that year with a meager 13-13 record despite having the ability to win 17-18 games. Instead of having a first round bye, we were forced to play in the tournament qualifier and lost that game. With two additional wins, we would've easily qualified for a first round bye. The young man who was suspended did well that year academically (2.6 GPA), but dropped out of college a month into school after he transferred.

A couple of seasons ago, I pulled the plug on my leading rebounder (who was also a starter and third leading scorer) for four games because he refused to do his school work even after being warned of a possible suspension. During that span of games, we went 2-2. When he finally came off suspension for the last game of that semester, we beat the tenth ranked team in the country at the buzzer in a very exciting game. Unfortunately, he only played in one more game because he regressed again after that game and failed off the team.

Last season, we had a shot at winning 20 games and it rested mainly on a wild-card, Firecracker, who was a very unique talent. Firecracker wasn't skilled by any means. He could only use his left hand, for example, and he had what many would deem as suspect ball handling skills and a below average jump shot. What separated him from every other player I've ever had here was his ability to get teammates to play like they were all on steroids.

Firecracker was a middle linebacker in high school who was very vocal and played with infectious high energy all the time. He was tough as nails too. It was outright amazing to see how he impacted games without scoring at all. Even the bench would go crazy during games. Our energy was so off the charts that the opposing coach contacted me after a preseason game to ask how I got my players to compete so hard. It wasn't my doing at all. Firecracker was the ring leader.

The only problem was that Firecracker was into extracurricular "stuff" and he refused to go to class or do any work. He felt like he could cut deals with Professors for Cs, but I wasn't having that.

Me: I like you a lot, man. There aren't many guys I like here as individuals, but you're a good dude. Do you realize this team could win twenty or more games this year because of what you bring?
Firecracker: I know. I feel like we could be good too.
Me: So then why don't you get your ass to class and do the work? It's not hard! Just do it.
Firecracker: I can't get here early, though.
Me: Why not?
Firecracker: You're a good guy, coach, so I won't lie to you. I'm up hustlin at night.
Me: Give it up. You're a natural born leader--like a Barack-type. You can't take that for granted. Redirect that energy! You're a CEO, dude!
Firecracker: It ain't that easy. I can't. I got bills to pay.
Me: Where are your parents?
Firecracker: (crying) Pops is locked up. He ain't shit. My mom works some bullshit job at Walmart.
Me: Then make your mom proud. Let her see that her hard work paid off! You have it in you.
Firecracker: I know but if I don't do this shit, we can't pay rent.

I wouldn't let him play unless he did the work, so he dropped out of school and we went 15-13 that season. At last check, Firecracker was still peddling drugs too...