Monday, October 22, 2012

Love it or like it?

Love is a word we throw around with such frequency that there is no way we really mean to use it in the way we use it.  We should probably start substituting "enjoy" or "like" a little more often.  We can't really love all the stuff we say we do, can we?  To like something is pretty clear cut.  Why isn't it enough to just say we like something?  There is nothing wrong with that.  Why do we feel the need to profess our love for everything?  First of all, it cheapens the word and how it relates to the things you truly do love (e.g. spouse, kids, family, etc.).  Secondly, I don't think most people are actually being truthful when they say it.  Unfortunately, especially when referring to basketball.  In fact, my experience has told me that most people within the basketball realm really do like the game (they don't hate it), but they don't love it. 

It's easy to say that you love your wife or husband, another family member or any other person for that matter.  That kind of love is somewhat engrained; not perpetual as we all know, but engrained from our childhood.  It's pretty easy to see why we love people.  They give something back.  Our love (we hope) is returned.  Therefore, loving a living person is easy.  Well, maybe not easy, but you know what I mean.  We can all do it.

Having love for an inanimate object on the other hand is tricky.  More than tricky even, it is damn hard work.  Inanimate objects give nothing tangible in return.  They don't say "I love you" back.  They don't return a hug or kiss.  They don't send you love letters, or sext with you (Have never used that in writing before today).  Your return for loving them is internal.  Whether or not your love is returned is entirely up to you, not them.  Inanimate objects, like the game of basketball, can definitely be loved.  They can be.  But most of you don't.  Most of you won't.  Most of you just like it.  (Not that there is anything wrong with that)

The people and players I have come across that have a true love for the game are different.  They do get a return for the love they profess to the game.  You and me, we can't see it, but they feel it.  They continually give to the game because they get a return for their love.  Their love has been confirmed.  These people live the game.  They dream about it.  They eat it, drink it, sleep it, run it, jump it, teach it, play it, live it.  It's never unimportant.  The game is always watching; as if the game is an energy that surrounds them.  It doesn't matter where they are; in an empty gutted barn turned gym or a jam packed arena, the game is what they love. 

Players that love the game, love the gym, and all that the gym represents.  They love ball handling drills.  They know that time given to the craft of controlling a basketball is important.  They have learned to love what those ball handling drills provide them; the power to go places.  They love shooting; whether alone, with a rebounder, using the gun, wherever.  They know that time spent shooting will lead to more made shots.  They have learned to love the sound of the net more than the sound of the rim.  They love conditioning.  They know that everything erodes in basketball when you get tired.  They have learned to love not being tired; the feeling that they could play all day.  They love coaching.  They know that while self evaluating is important, outside, critical evaluation is more important.  Loving players love every aspect of the game, and furthermore realize it's importance.  

Loving players DO NOT let their mouths (or fingers) express their love for the game.  They let their actions do it.  They don't tell you they are going to condition: they show you they did in the 4th quarter of a March game.  They don't tell you they are going to the gym to workout: come the season, their game has improved.  They don't undermine coaching: they accept it as it is meant to be; simply something to improve upon.  They don't tell you they love the game: they show you they love the game.  Remember, the game is inanimate.  It does not read your texts or tweets; it does not hear you.  The only person that can return your love for the game is you.











Wednesday, October 17, 2012

"Free" play

My whole childhood was made up of games.  Playing games.  Some of the games we'd all recognize, with rules and fields.  Some of them we made up on the spot.  Most of which were played outside, in parks, or streets, or backyards, or school lots.  We lived outside.  We lived in those games.  Basketball, baseball, football, street hockey (yes, even hockey), and a million modifications of those games.  If we only had a couple of people we found a way to play football (we called it interception), or basketball (21) or baseball (whiffle ball, or it's evolutionary elite, lemonball).  That wasn't it though, there was also tag, cops 'n' robbers, ghost in the graveyard, rock picking at the construction sites down the road; innumerable games.  We played all day, every day.  I don't have childhood memories of being too tired to go out and play, and no memories of being bored.  I don't remember being told that we couldn't go out.  Sure, we played organized sports, but the time spent being told what to play and where to play it paled in comparison to the time we spent in what I would call "free" play.  Where has that all gone?  Where are the kids playing?  I drive by empty park after empty park.  Where has "free" play gone?

I think we all know where it has gone.  It's gone inside.  Into our emotionally and physically insulated houses.  The kids are still playing; but their inside, on their butts, with some sugary snack and a can of pop in their hands.  They are playing video games.  They are watching TV.  If kids are lucky these days, they play "organized" sports.  Do they ask to stay inside?  Better question: do we ask them to go out?  Or, are we afraid of what might happen?  Is there a fear of where our children's imaginations might take them?  Or, are we all afraid of our children being abducted?  I went to school with Jacob Wetterling.  God bless him, and all that his family have been through, but are we so afraid that that may happen to our child, that we protect them from their own imagination?  The truth is, that could happen again.  That will happen again.  But, that can't be it, can it?  There has to be more to it.  By that rationale, we ought to pull our children out of schools for fear of another random school shooting.  Bad things happen to wonderful, innocent people.  And, yes, there are awful people in the world.  But, isn't fearing life sending our kids the wrong message?  I refuse to believe that we are a society so scared of what could happen that we block our children from the joys of what will happen. 

I grew up in a dream world.  My mother was working as an RN for the U of M, while my father was studying law there.  Because of that, we were granted acceptance in a child's paradise.  The U of M student housing was an absolutely awesome place to grow up.  We used to have 9 on 9 baseball games when I was 5 years old.   Nine on nine!  In a park.  Not organized by anything other than that undying urge to see what was going on outside your house.  Who wanted to be inside?  Every person living in these concrete walled, tile floored boxes had children; it was a requirement.  A glorious requirement.  Children from Iceland, Ghana, England, Portugal, South Korea, Saudi Arabia and every other corner of the earth.  Needless to say, the pot luck's were insane!  Not that a 5-year old experimented all that much.  So, there were kids everywhere.  Kids playing, freely.  That's what we did.  Parents only involved themselves as the all-time pitcher or to yell that it was dinner time (in all kinds of different languages).  They didn't fear.  If anything, we were encouraged to get out.  Go.  Play.  Explore.  Imagine.  Have fun. 

I am, by no means, the perfect father.  I'd like to believe that I am, however, an aware one.  I have a 6 year old boy and a 2 year old girl.  They have spent their fair share of time playing video games, watching movies and cartoons, playing on the computer or ipod.  I'm as much of a victim of this sedentary society as you are.  It's too damn easy to take the easy way out.  I am trying though.  I'm trying real hard. (Jules from 'Pulp Fiction' voice)  I want my kids to be able to ride their bikes to the park and play something, anything.  When they get there, I want there to be other kids, with different versions of games, with different imaginations, from different backgrounds.  They need that.  We, as parents, need that.  We should spend more time playing with our kids instead of just telling our kids to play.  We need to show them how to play, what to play, and allow them time to play.  We get selfish as parents.  If we put on a cartoon, we in turn have time to read the paper, or dive into the computer, or do the dishes.  Our parents had things they needed to do too, but I feel like the world I grew up in was different, as stated above, and somehow better.  Don't we all want better for our kids than what we had ourselves?  Isn't that THE mantra of every parent, ever?  That is our jobs as parents.  To provide.  Not just provide shelter and food, but to also provide time and space for fun.  We can change how our children play.  Start a "free" play movement.  Teach your kids some of the games you played as a kid.  And then, play those games with them.  Let them teach you games they learn at school.  And play them.  Gather the neighborhood kids and play some touch football.  Be the leader.  Don't expect your kids to ask for this.  Give this to them.  We are a lazy people; too lazy for our own good.  We love quick and convenient food, we love exercising in gyms instead of outside, we love sitting on computers, we love looking at our phones, we love high definition television, but we also love our kids.  I'd contend that the combined love for all other things in life would come up short in comparison to the love you feel for your children.   If we grew up with "free" play and yet, still ended up as card carrying members of this static society, what will our increasingly static children become?  Can we live with that result? 

Another recent phenomenon in our society is the specialization of sport, or a single sport youth.  When someone reaches their adolescence or adulthood and decides of their own volition to focus their time and energy on a single sport, great.  Good for them.  They made an adult, informed decision.  When a parent decides for a child, at increasingly younger and younger ages, that they will be a single sport athlete, that is a problem.  That is wrong.  That is criminal.  Multi-sport athletes, in my opinion, are so much more well rounded.  What generally happens is as parents realize that Bobby or Sue are good at something they cut them out of the activities that they aren't as good at.  It's an epidemic.  It's a controlling parent epidemic.  Kids aren't quitters.  Parents are boasters.  If Bobby is great at football, but average in basketball, why keep him in basketball?  If Sue isn't quite getting the handle of lacrosse, but is a great long distance runner, why not spend all that extra time at running camps?  Because, the losses, that feeling of not being the best, will make them better people.  Not just better athletes, but better people. 

Free play will create better self esteem, better athletes, healthier children, deeper thinkers, more creativity, a love for the outdoors, and a sense of community.  The kids are our community.  Kids should not need constant supervision at the park.  Almost every child at the park these days has a parent watching with a hawks eye over them, ensuring they wont have a negative experience.  Bumps, scrapes, races run and lost, being "it" in tag for too long, etc are all things we isolate our children from.  You went through those things and made it through just fine.  Why can't they?  We are creating bubbles around our kids.  Kids that grow up in bubbles, will eventually live in bubbles.  It is time to allow our children to be children.  Let them play, free as they want to be. 







Wednesday, October 10, 2012

So what? Just play!

What is mental toughness? 

It sounds easy to to define, but I would contend that it is anything but easy to define.  It is about as easy to define as genius, or exceptional.  The reason these concepts are so difficult to define is that there are so few that actually possess them.  I, personally, never possessed a great deal of mental toughness as a player.  Sure, I had moments of mental fortitude, even games, days, or weeks, but that is not mental toughness.  Mental toughness is sustained, unwavered persistence.  It's like a rain drop that falls in Minnesota.  It has an end in mind.  That end is the Gulf of Mexico.  It will do anything to get there.  Through rivers, lakes, streams, over land, through the land.  It has one goal.  It has prepared for the journey ahead and nothing can stop it. 

Maybe the best way to define mental toughness is with a line graph.  Mentally tough players are not robots; they too get distracted.  The difference is their ability to re-commit to the task at hand; to get back on track.  The graph below represents the distraction variation, or focus level, of an average player and a mentally tough player.  Both players get distracted by missed shots, bad refs, yelling coaches, screaming fans, bitching teammates, but they handle these distractions differently.  One player allows them to derail, while the other moves past them. 


Mentally tough people, not just athletes, all have that rare ability to realize when they have veered off path and somehow, some way, force themselves back in line.  Most of us do not have that kind of self awareness, let alone that level of self control.  Most of us would rather aimlessly meander our way through a day, while mentally tough people have a map. They have planned and prepared. They know what to expect.  When an obstacle arises they analyze, adjust, and advance.  That is the key: acknowledge issue, solve issue, bury issue.  Next play. 

I also think we've too often associated physically tough players with mental toughness.  In my opinion they have little relation.  Sure mentally tough players generally carry that persistence into the weight room or during conditioning, but mental might and physical might are very different.  Mentally tough players come in all shapes and sizes.  They can be big or small, fast or slow, shoot well or not.  What they all possess is an astute self awareness.  They focus on what they can control. That's it.  All else is meaningless, and for someone else to worry about.  They understand that the distracted nature of human beings is their only opponent.  They crave focus.  They have become brain washed by it.  They love it.  There is no other way.  They just play, and play, and play.

There is nothing quite like playing against those mentally tough players that just keep on coming.  Play after play, loose ball after loose ball, screen after screen.  They wear you down with persistence.  It has little to do with their size, strength, or even skill.  Eventually they overtake you.  They are the avalanche and you are the skier.  You get engulfed by their sheer mental force.  You give in.  A sense of helplessness overcomes you; you can't keep up with your opponent.  That's when it all falls apart.  You start complaining to the refs.  You yell at a teammate for missing a lay up.  You don't get through a screen but blame your teammate for not helping.  You become selfish, not self aware.  You're beaten.

If you're a coach, I can't tell you how to train a player towards mental toughness.  If you're a player, I can't tell you how to become one.  All I can tell you is that mentally tough players carry a lot of the same characteristics.  They take criticism without backlash.  They never undermine a teammate.  They carry themselves with confidence, even in the most hostile situations.  They pick others up when needed.  They shoulder the blame when it is warranted.  They use words like we and us.  And most of all they never, ever quit.  There it is.  I guess I do have an answer for you.  Quit quitting and just play.











Friday, October 5, 2012

The gym as a spiritual space

Most of my life has been spent in a gym. It is a space that I have come to know, love and, ultimately, need.  Gyms, to me, have an inherent spirituality. Much like a church, they are defined by the activity which occurs within them. A church without a congregation of practitioners is a just a building. Add the congregation and you have a spiritual space; a place of practice. I do not intend, and would not intend to compare basketball to any religion. My concern is with the comparison of spaces of practice, not of religion. Within this space, the gym, something magical happens.

My first memories of the gym are from my early childhood. Sitting in the St. Thomas University stands watching my uncle play as my grandfather explained to me the finer points of the game (in between handfuls of popcorn), while always, always keeping book. He was an extremely influential person in my life; a great father and grandfather, and the biggest sports fan I have ever met. So many of those old memories are framed by the backdrop of a gym. One morning twenty some years ago while he was rebounding for me. He said, "Josh, I have seen a million players make shots from the floor that can't shoot free throws, but I have never seen a player that shoots well from the free throw line that can't make shots from the floor." Simple, brilliant and most importantly, remembered because of the setting. Had he said that to me in their living room, I would not be reciting it today. The gym made it resonate. The gym made it special. 

We all have similar memories, whether they are with a grandparent, parent, sibling, coach, friend, whomever.  The gym helps keep those memories fresh in our mind. As if it has some kind of preservative quality.  Entering a gym is like opening a book to our past. Wins, losses, great games, awful games, injuries, blood, sweat, tears, the gym holds them all. We can recall the best pass we ever threw, from some meaningless game back in 7th grade, like it was yesterday. We can recall what we were thinking as we shot free throws to ice a game in high school. We can recall the nervous, anxious feeling we had before our first game of the year, of every year, we ever played. It's all so crystal clear. The losses still hurt as bad as ever. The wins still elicit a smile.

Any study of spirituality will eventually bring you to some mention of rights of passage. Cultural Anthropologist Victor Turner defined rights of passage in three phases: the pre-liminal (seperation), liminal (transition), and post-liminal (reincorporation). [Yes, my favorite class of all time was on the Anthropology of Travel and, yes, we explored a variety of rights of passages (pilgrimages, vision quests, etc.). Awesome stuff.] The gym is a space where people transform. Getting cut, improving, and then making the team. Being too young to run with the older guys, growing up, and then kicking the old guys butts. Think about how many times you walked into a gym. Unsure of what will happen; excited. It's an adventure. The gym can make you or break you. Within that space, you will  learn  about yourself. Some people gain confidence that they don't carry on the streets. Some people lose it. Something happens to all of us in a gym. And, the longer you stay in a gym the more it will affect and transform you. 

There is nothing quite like the sound of a gym. The sounds are so unique. The squeak of a sneaker, the bounce of a ball, the sound of a ball spurning backboard and rim for a brief moment of solitude in a soft, white net. I mean, is there a more beautiful sound in all of sport than the sound of a swish? I'm sure the old-timers would say, "why yes there is young man", the sound of a ball banking high off the glass, causing that slight little squeak, and falling through the net. Walk by a gym and listen. Don't look, just listen. It will bring goosebumps.  

What is spirituality without community? The gym is the ultimate unifying space. A place to commune. Big, small, tall, short, black, white, asian, latino, man, woman, we all play with or against each other on the same floor, in the same space, on equal footing. If that isn't spiritual, I don't know what is.

I've always felt like the gym was the perfect place for meditation, or self reflection. When I was playing at Hamline I began a habit of shooting free throws before and between classes. It calmed me, made me a better student, and I truly believe it was the time I spent in that space that made me the man I am today. There is nothing quite like time alone shooting in the gym; a ball, a rim, echoes and your mind. There was not better place for me to mature than in Hutton Arena. I didn't do all that much right before I got to Hamline. There was a reason I went to ju-co.  There was a reason I didn't play right after ju-co.  There was a reason I spent a basketball season working in a food distribution factory. That reason was me. Somewhere, somehow, in that old gym on Snelling Avenue, I changed. I matured. I became aware. I became selfish about my future. Those countless hours spent with the spirits of one of college basketballs most storied programs were nothing short of life-changing. The birthplace of college basketball.  Hundreds of others have had the same transformational experience I did. In that place, in that space, in that gym.

Forget the cemetery - go ahead and bury me in a gym. 





Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Are you being recruited?

Simple question:

Are you being recruited?  If so, have you done, or are you doing the following?

-Have you went to the NCAA Eligibility Center?  You better. Go now! 
Link:

http://web1.ncaa.org/ECWR2/NCAA_EMS/NCAA.jsp


-Have you written down the five or so things that are most important to you in terms of a college destination?
These could be related to location, athletics, education, size of school, type of school, etc.

-When a coach calls, any coach at any school from any level, do you call them back? 
Call them back!!! If a coach calls from an institution that you know you are not interested in, be honest.  Tell them thank you for the interest, but I am not interested. 
Call them all back within 24 hours.  The 24 hour rule should apply in all facets of life any way. 

-When you make your decision, who do you tell first?
In this order: Your family, your future head coach (the coach you are committing to), all of the other schools recruiting you, your AAU coach, a news outlet, your friends
Any mix up in that chain of proliferation could cause unnecessary issues.  There is nothing worse than a coach that is recruiting a player finding out that they aren't "the one" from another mouth.  Make sure they hear that from you!  Ten seconds of courage.  They have been told "no" more than "yes".

-What form of communication do you use during recruiting?
Face-to-face and the telephone are your two options for primary communication. 
Email, texts, facebook, etc are secondary communication.
If a coach calls you, call them back.  Don't text them back.  Call them. 

-How do you carry yourself on and off the floor?
There is nothing worse than finding out a great player and recruit is an anything but stand up citizen.  Remember, if you facebook it, tweet it, even say it, EVERYONE will see it or hear it. 


Be professional.  Act honored to be recruited.  If you are offered a scholarship and the opportunity to exchange your time spent in a gym for an education.  Be thankful.  You are one of the elite.  Take advantage. 

Simple train of thought: Carry yourself the way you want to be viewed.  First impressions matter, but so does every other impression.  Do yourself right.  Be proud of yourself, and humble in action.

Good luck and congratulations to all of the fine young men and women being recruited across the nation. The work you have put in is paying off. 

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

The ills of AAU Basketball

Spring and summer, or AAU, basketball is painted by the media as an evil, selfish, greedy business devoid of any possible positives.  The words and phrases that have become associated with it are: entitled, shoe money, scholarship, handler, glom on, one on one, street ball, open gym, exposure, etc.  Words and phrases that should be used, but rarely are: court time, competition, skill development, different voice, experience and fun.  Yes, fun.  There can be a positive outcome from playing AAU.  There are though a few major flaws that I'd like to look into briefly and maybe even drop in an opinion or two. This brief essay is based upon things I have read, heard or seen during my last 7 years on the AAU circuit.  I have broken it into a few subject headers, or chapters: Program, Player, Parent, Tournament Jockey, College Coach, Recruitnik.
PROGRAM-
AAU basketball teams are organized by any number of different factions of people.  They range from local groups organized by a parent to large, regional programs.  The focus of this section will be on large programs.  Programs could also be divided into the private vs. non-profit and the funded vs unfunded.  I'll keep it simple for now and group these all into one.
Success for a program is generally defined one way in AAU basketball: scholarships.  Not just scholarships though, even those are ranked.  How many D1 players do you have?  How many high major players do you have?  Where are your former players playing at?  It is how potential players are recruited to programs.  I'm not sure they have any other choice.  Is it the right way?  No.  Programs should, in theory, tout their ability to develop a players skill.  That, in the end, is why a player should choose to play basketball in the off season.  The problem is that nobody, not players, parents, shoe companies, college coaches, NOBODY, talks about the ability of an AAU program developing skill.  So, the program directors are stuck playing to the crowd.  Do they take it too far?  Of course.  Too often programs do glom onto the successes of their best players.  It has become a self fulfilling prophecy for AAU programs.  To compete they need the better players.  To get the better players they need to promote their former players.  The better the former players, the farther they go, the more success they have, the better the future players the program can recruit.  Something seems circular here.  A program ought to have two goals, fun and development.  The rest will take care of itself.  I fear that those goals have been buried by the greed associated with scholarship athletics. 

PLAYER
The player is often left out of the AAU discussion and is to be seen a pawn.  In fact, I would say that the player is the lynch pin, and holds as much power in this game as any other participant.  Players are not bystanders.  They, along with their parents (next chapter), have taken control of this game.  Program directors fawn over these young athletes like they are the second coming of Atlas.  They send them gifts, text messages, facebook em, twit em, call em, take them to lunch, etc.  All for the chance to coach a player that may or may not be any fun to coach.  All in a hope for another scholarship player.  And don't mince my words, that is exactly why the player chose the program they play for.  They are all about the scholarship too.  Fun?  "Whatever"  Development?  "Are you saying I'm not good enough?"  Players are venturing down the same dark path as the programs.  There is no other option.  Focus on the scholarship or get lost in the shuffle, and become...oh no...UNDER-RECRUITED!  That has become the plague of AAU basketball.  What if I don't get enough exposure.  I better play for program A or B because they WILL get me a scholarship.  The unfortunate part is there is a third party in this equation that decides who gets offered scholarships.  They don't work for the programs though.  They work for institutions of education.  They choose.  Nobody else.  Players should never be led to believe that a scholarship is the only outcome worth playing for.  If that is the goal, then why play?

PARENT
I will make this brief.  There are two kinds of AAU parents.  The "get it" group, and the "nut jobs".  Let's focus on the nut jobs, because the "get it" group doesn't need a pat on the back from me.  They get it, remember.  Nut job parents: stop it!  It is not about you anymore.  Probably never was, but now it really isn't.  Parents see through the most biased eyes the world has ever seen.  Their child IS the best player, DESERVES more playing time, and SHOULD get a scholarship.  Arguing those facts is like throwing a tennis ball at a brick wall.  I actually think that some parents are living in a fantasy world.  Like a parallel universe type fantasy world.  They cannot see what the rest of the world sees.  And, they too have become greedy participants in this game.  They too seek the holy grail of basketball.  A scholarship.

TOURNAMENT JOCKEY
AAU tournaments have become the wild, wild west of basketball.  Some have rules, some have clocks, some have age requirements, some have refs and some don't.  Some charge college coaches (who are being pimped by these jockeys) hundreds of dollars for packets full of misinformation.  The college coaches have to come to see the players.  The tournament jockeys know that.  They go out and try to "load" their event with talented AAU teams.  These teams bring in more coaches.  The coaches help bring in more AAU teams.  They also give the illusion to the parents that their child is being exposed.  Ah, another cash word, exposure.  The parents have to watch their child (and see how many coaches are sitting across the way), so they pay too.  Some of these events cost more than NBA games.  Once again, dog seems to be chasing his tail here.  There really should be some AAU tournament governing body.  The only organization in the world that could make real and positive change in the tournament portion of this game is the NCAA.  Needless to say, the beat will go on.

COLLEGE COACH
Of all the participants in this game that I have sympathy for it is the college coaches.  Thanks to the AAU explosion they get to spend virtually every weekend in gyms all across the nation watching game after game after game.  Trying to evaluate one or two players in a sea of players.  It is an arduous and unenviable task.  Then after they narrow it down to the player or handful or players they too have to begin the "dance".  The dance for them includes the same things as it does for the Programs.  Calls, texts, emails, in home visits, unofficial visits, official visits, unofficial official visits.  It is nauseating.  None of that is why I have sympathy for the college coaches though.  That is the life they chose, the bed they made, their career choice.  What I have sympathy for is that after the college coaches successfully dance the dance and get their player, they have to deal with everything that has happened before that point.  A player that has transfered three times in high school and changes AAU teams five times probably wont make it through year two.  They have to deal with players that are used to a system that manipulates for them.  All of a sudden they walk into a college coaches gym and bam!  Man or mouse time.  No parent, no AAU coach, no glommers, nothing but a ball and a game.  And you had better be damn good at it or you wont play.  You know why?  No, it's not because the coach doesn't like you, it's because he or she has to win.  If they don't win they get fired.  If they get fired they have to find new employment.  As a coach that usually means moving a family to some other town and starting over.  And over.  And over.  That is why I have sympathy for them.  They lend their own part to the greed of this game, but they are also stuck with the results this game produces.  There is one point of contention that I will expound on further at a later date, and that is the condescending tone some college coaches speak to AAU coaches with.  That is just poor class and worse business.  For a later date.

RECRUITNIK
Mr. Information.  The recruiting bloggers, writers, rankers and reporters have taken their place at the table.  They are right in there.  They know who is going to play for what team, who is being recruited by who, and somehow, who is better than who.  Most of the information is regurgitated.  Like the masses are a bunch of baby owls.  The recruitniks go out and gather fodder, edit, and shove into our mouths.  And, damn it if we don't love regurgitated information.  It doesn't even have to be true.  We can know it to be false, but it's juicy and we love it.  Basketball gossip is a million dollar industry and is growing every day.  We want to know that there is some kid in the class of 2020 that is ten years old and 6'9 and his uncle was the best friend of a former NBA player.  That is news.  Again, I cannot blame the recruitniks because they have simply cut out a small piece of the AAU pie. 


Thanks for reading.  As I make changes to this draft I will post them.  I love basketball.  All basketball.  AAU can be a wonderful opportunity for basketball players, if they approach it correctly and are aware of their surroundings. 






Monday, October 1, 2012

This blog is not intended to have a form or structure.  It will evolve into what it was supposed to be.