Advantage Disadvantage Page 14
Jamal shook hands with his coach. When he left the office, Coach Venturi marveled at Jamal’s maturity and approach. He took great pleasure in having a part in Jamal’s development on and off the court.
The coach sat back in his chair. He had two hours of tape to review on the eve of the first game of the season. Scott looked forward to the season as never before.
Chapter Twenty-seven. My Son’s Playing Time
Detective Battle came to see East End’s first game. It was against a non-conference, north suburban school, Yates High. Two years after arriving at East End, Coach Venturi began to schedule easier teams in the pre-conference play. He enrolled his team in easier Thanksgiving and Christmas week tournaments. Yates High was an easy opponent for East End and the game was a romp from the beginning. Venturi’s team put on a stifling full-court press that reminded Detective Battle of his NAU approach. Jamal looked great during the game, although he was wearing different shoes than the team’s Voles. Coach Battle happily anticipated the renewal of his royalty contract with Kerbe Shoes. He was also very proud of Jamal, and happy that by earning his EPSU scholarship he showed leadership to the youngsters that were on Battle’s current middle school NAU teams.
Coach Venturi followed the unwritten sportsmanship rule about pulling-off the full-court press after halftime. Tradition allowed for anything in the first half – unlimited pressing, running, scoring. However, if a team was spanking an opponent without a realistic chance to win, the “gentleman’s” tradition was to pull starters, liberally use the bench, and not run up the score. Sometimes referees reminded a coach who was lost in his intensity by saying, “I’m not telling you what to do, but do you think it’s time to call off the dogs?”
Some referees actually enforced this unwritten gentleman’s agreement by overlooking most fouls and violations by the losing coach, and calling even the slightest touch fouls against the team ahead. Usually, the coach would not respond right away to the referee’s suggestion because they wanted to save face. After one or two times up and down the court, most coaches would respond by taking the pressure off. AD’s frowned on humiliating a team by blowout and many athletic directors would admonish their coaches for running-up the scores on opposing teams. There was some honor in high school basketball coaching.
The East End High School team was racking up victories: Yates, Ridgeland, Crandon, Constance and Essex. Bobby G. was making a fortune. On all other games (not involving East End), the gangs won eighty percent of the time because the betting lines were fixed against the well-to-do homers. Bobby G. was happy to earn the ten percent juice on those games without risk and allowed the gangs to collect the rewards of betting against the homers. However, on East End games, Bobby froze out the gang treasurers and took all the action himself. He won every game because East End was still underrated and not yet, a top twenty team in Frank’s rankings.
Before one of the early season games, Jamal approached the coach’s office when he heard a woman talking to Venturi. Not wanting to interrupt, he sat on a chair in the hallway outside the coach’s office. He could hear the entire conversation.
“Coach, thanks for seeing me today on such short notice” the woman said.
“No problem Mrs. Austin. Is Alex ok? What’s wrong?”
“Yes, he’s fine. He’s enjoying being on the team, and he is very excited about how the team is doing.”
“He’s a nice young man. I have enjoyed coaching him for the last two years. I understand that he applied successfully to the University of Illinois for next fall. I am proud of him – he is a smart student, and he is a pleasure to coach. What can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to you but you have to promise not to tell Alex that I was here, OK?”
“This conversation is in confidence; I won’t let him know that you were even here.”
“I wanted to talk to you about getting him into a game.”
Stunned, he responded, “Mrs. Austin. I made it clear to the team and to the parents that I would not discuss playing time or other team issues with any parent unless the player met with me first. I think that helps the player step up to handle things properly and teaches them to address grievances in a mature way. You know I won’t talk to you about this.”
“Just hear me out Coach. This is a little different. Please,” Mrs. Austin begged.
“Ok, but I am really uncomfortable about having this conversation.”
“I’ll be direct. Alex knows his place on the team. He realizes that he has been out-competed by several players who substitute-in before him. No problem. He loves being part of the team – everything - the practices, the games, the pep rallies, his teammates. He is under no illusions. He does what he can to contribute and he has a positive attitude. Don’t you agree?”
“Very much so, Mrs. Austin.”
“OK, well Alex’s older brother has been his idol since he was born. He worships his words and actions, and when his brother joined the marines last year and went to Iraq, Alex’s pride zoomed to new heights. His brother is home on furlough and wants to attend the next home game against Clyde High School. He wants to surprise Alex by coming to his game. If it is at all possible, and I know I am asking for a lot, would it be possible for Alex to play a little bit in the game so his brother can see him? It would mean a lot to both of them.”
“Wow, you make a very compelling argument – you must be very proud of both of these boys, uh, men! Nevertheless, Mrs. Austin, I am reluctant to break team rules for any reason. I have built this team based on fairness and I expect the boys to follow my strict rules. In return, I need to be straight and fair to those who have earned playing time. I need to think about your request, but do not count on it. I wish I could commit to saying yes, but I do not think it would be right - it is just not how I have set up the rules. Let me see what I can do, and I really appreciate what you are trying to do, but truthfully, don’t get your hopes up.”
“Coach, I kind of expected you to say no. Your consistency and discipline with the team is what my husband and I admire about you – in this case, your integrity just will not bend for us. We really understand,” she said as began to leave Coach Venturi’s office. “Thanks for your time, anyway.”
Jamal quickly moved away from outside the office and stepped down the hallway about ten steps to pretend that he was just arriving. He then slowly walked back and saw Coach Venturi shaking hands with Mrs. Austin as she left his office. He heard the entire conversation, but the Coach thought he had just arrived.
During that evening, Coach thought about the conversation and it tugged at his heart. His team was unbeaten, and he wanted to accommodate Mrs. Austin’s request but he was a stickler for playing time decisions awarded on effort and skills. In his pregame discussion, he told the boys that he was worried about the quality of Clyde High School’s team. East End must put enormous pressure in the first quarter to take the heart out of Clyde by pressing and running up the score, he told them. This would be the first real test of the season – the rest of the teams that they had beaten were not as good as Clyde he warned them. He really wanted a big win, but he was not sure what to do about Alex Austin. He certainly would not risk a loss trying to slide him into the game. During pregame warm-ups, Scott noticed Alex’s brother in the stands, near the corridor to the locker room. He was dressed in his full combat fatigues, the dull, desert-beige camouflage.
The starters lived-up to their responsibilities and ran up the score in the first quarter but it was a sloppy quarter with several East End players committing many unnecessary fouls.
“Hey, come over here on the bench. Sit down next to me. What’s with the stupid fouls?” he admonished one of the starters after he yanked him from the game.
“I dunno Coach, just not concentrating I guess,” the player replied.
As the first half rolled to an end, sweat was pouring from Venturi’s face. All five starters had three fouls each and his team had a mere five-point lead – without the fouls it would have been
at least fifteen. The team filed into the narrow opening next to the bleachers en route to the locker room. Alex Austin knew his brother was looking at him as he ran by, but kept his head down – embarrassed that he had not played in the game like most others. The boys were not looking forward to the reaming they anticipated from their angry coach. He did not disappoint them. Venturi could not believe that the starters were uncharacteristically committing unnecessary fouls. The first few bench players played all right, but the starters put in a lousy half.
Parents were shouting stuff at the coach – the score was excessively close to be fooling around. The second string players were beginning to have their own foul troubles and at the end of the third quarter, the score was all knotted-up. He sent the starters back in for the fourth quarter. After the first minute of the final period, Jamal apparently mis-stepped and went down hard grasping his ankle. The trainer ran out with Coach Venturi right behind.
“Jamal, what happened?” the trainer asked.
“I rolled my ankle a little bit,” he replied.
The trainer moved his foot back and forth asking Jamal, which position hurt. She asked if Jamal could stand up – it did not seem too severe from her analysis.
“I’ll be ok with a short rest.”
The trainer helped Jamal limp to the end of their bench and rolled his sock to begin first aid. Venturi felt his chest muscles tighten from the stress as he contemplated his next move. He had 30 seconds to put in a replacement player. Venturi looked down his bench.
“Austin, you’re going in. Give me a few good minutes in there, ok?”
Alex Austin was shocked to get the call. He ripped-off his warm up pants and nearly tripped on them as he hustled to the scorer’s table to check in. The game restarted and on the first possession Venturi’s fear materialized – Alex Austin shot an air ball retrieved by a player on the Clyde High School team.
The trainer was attending to Jamal’s ankle. She sprayed some kind of freezing ointment that felt like topical Novocain. He yelled out, “It is ok, Alex. Keep going – we need you.”
The game was in the balance. “Imari, are you ready to go in?”
“Coach, I cannot put any weight on it – I can’t play.” He kept holding his ankle.
Venturi quickly concluded that the players on the court would have to finish the game, including Alex Austin. He called timeout and gathered the players around.
“Jamal has been there for you for many games, but he’s too hurt to play anymore. You guys are going to have to do it. You can finish this – play our game and let’s win this thing.”
Alex Austin settled into the game and using his body, he boxed opponents away from the basket and snagged three important rebounds. Later in the quarter, he made a short jump shot. Finally, with three seconds left in this contest and East End winning by one point, Alex grabbed the last rebound of the game cementing a win for his team.
Jamal used a teammate as a crutch and limped ahead of the players. As the rest of the team filed down the corridor towards the locker room, Venturi saw Alex’s brother standing at full attention, showing a military salute. Alex stopped and saluted back to his brother, then tipped his head as if to say, “thank you for coming to watch me play”.
Coach Venturi was so moved that he altered the speech he wanted to deliver. He was mad about the sloppy first-half play, and worse than that, there were the unnecessary fouls. Starters were terrible except Jamal, but he was hurt and not available. His first instinct was to explode in the locker room and shake-up the team. He could threaten a tough practice the next day, but then he thought of the moment that the end of the game provided for Alex and his family. Some things were bigger than basketball. He softened his approach.
“We had a tough game tonight – maybe we were lucky to win it. Starters were called for too many dumb fouls and you five guys put too much pressure on our substitutes. But they came through, especially you, Alex Austin – without your fourth quarter tonight I think we would have lost. Terrific job! Well men, even great teams have off nights. Let’s practice hard tomorrow and put this one behind us.”
The players and the few stragglers had left the gym when Scott turned off the lights and set the alarm. He opened the door to the parking lot and saw Jamal walking without any sign of his game-ending injury.
“Hey, Imari,” Venturi called out in surprise to see Jamal putting weight on his “injured ankle”.
Jamal turned back and looked at his coach. Jamal winked. Venturi paused and then smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Rest your ankle, kid,” he chuckled and winked back.
The next day, Coach Venturi had a glowing voicemail from Mrs. Austin thanking him for providing the opportunity for Alex to impress his lifelong idol – his brother. She said that of all of the teachers and coaches in Alex’s life, he made the biggest difference. Alex was so proud of his brother’s approval. If he never played another minute the rest of the season, it was ok with her and Alex too.
The coach was so touched that he stayed up all night thinking about what that experience meant for Alex Austin and his family. He also marveled at the growth and maturity of the team’s captain, even though Jamal was insubordinate to engineer the circumstances that got Alex into the game. Perspective rang through his ears. Compliments for anything other than wins were rare. Would he ever experience this kind of satisfaction at the college level? He wondered about the future. For now, his present situation felt great!
Chapter Twenty-eight. In Search of a Bench Coach
Coach Venturi met Elizabeth in their favorite park. She constantly sought attention from him, but knew that his time during basketball season was scarce. She still wanted a future with Scott and decided to encourage him to seek other college coaching jobs after this season – to pursue her dreams and his. Elizabeth wanted to move anywhere with him; the life of a revered college coach was etched in her mind.
“Elizabeth, this has been a magical season for me. Jamal is my first Division I scholarship player, the team is undefeated so far, the principal finally knows who I am and attends games – it’s been great”
“I’ve gotta believe that college coaches will take notice soon,” said the single-minded Elizabeth.
“No. Let me continue. I have had an epiphany. The joy I have received from watching the development of these young men at basketball and many kids in mathematics classes has been incredible. I watched something happen for Alex Austin and his family that not many have seen. Along those lines, I take great pleasure in helping kids like Jamal grow into men. Yes, his basketball accomplishments are terrific, but basketball is just the context in which I am working. Year in, year out I can transfer training, maturity, sportsmanship and other gifts to a new set of players. I am flying high.”
“What are you smoking, Scott?” asked Elizabeth sarcastically.
“I discovered myself and my purpose. Yes, I have to try to win basketball games, but I also am helping generations of kids mature and grow. I realize now that I am in the right place – I was put on earth to teach and coach high school players.”
“What about our plans for the future? You promised to take me out of here to some quaint college town where we would become important people in the community.”
“I’ve found that importance right here. I can make an immediate difference to some of these kids and their families.”
“Scott, you’re talking crazy. Do you want to spend the rest of your summers in smelly gyms, watching endless tapes of teenagers playing a stupid game for the lousy amount of money they pay you? Get real! Call me when you come to your senses. EPSU was just not in the cards. You’re giving up on your dream, like you caution your players not to do.”
“Elizabeth, you’re insulting me by dishonoring my accomplishments at East End. You know what? We are done! Your dream is not my dream. Being with you – it was a huge mistake. It cost me a friendship with Marcus, the best friend I’ve made since moving up here.”
She slapped Scott in the face. “You
call me a mistake. Screw you, unmotivated loser!” she yelled as she walked away.
Coach Venturi left the park resolute that he was making a terrific life decision. He knew by her reaction that Elizabeth was not in love with him. They were attracted to each other, but she was in love with the college coaching dream. This was a dream that might have happened, almost happened, but was not a better proposition than his current assignment. He was happy, but he had an old score to settle with Marcus.
***
This was a great time to strike because the principal and athletic director were both anxious to help in any way to continue the success of the team and the program. In between games during Christmas break, Venturi had several meetings with the school’s administration. He was finally ready to roll out a new program. He called a mandatory parent-only meeting, but Jamal was the only player to invite his dad.
“Scott, what’s the deal? Jamal told me there was a parent meeting scheduled, but I think you have tricked me. I don’t know what I’m doing here,” his old friend snapped at him.
“Marcus, the boys miss your coaching and I need you on the bench.”
“Well, you fucked that up by humping my wife.”
“I know; that was inexcusable. I was led to believe that you were separated and on your way to divorce. What I regret most was sleeping with one of my players’ moms. That needs to be out of bounds. If Jamal knows, he is not showing it, but it is probably putting undue pressure on him. As for you, most of all, I regret losing a great friend.”
“You know, my soon-to-be ex-wife hasn’t really been good for me either. Ever since I got tangled up at O’Hare and lost my job, she’s been looking for a social climbing mate. I just could not measure up to her recent standards. She is definitely not the same person I married. I don’t think I’ve changed, but she has,” he said in a sedated voice.
“I’d like you to come back to our coaching staff, for me and Jamal,” begged Scott trying to focus away from Elizabeth.