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Speaking to reporters on an early October day, Kevin Ollie stressed the importance of managing the intoxicating impulses induced by success: “I told the players after last season, ‘Don’t get drunk off success – a lot of people get drunk off success.’” Success may have been the most modest of words Ollie could have drawn from to describe the unforeseen championship run ignited by he and his players last March. Shortly thereafter, Ollie recalled another discussion he had with his players in which he referenced the great John Wooden to communicate the challenge that would await his team: “A lot of people can do it when their back is against the wall. Everybody in this room can do it with their backs against the wall because we fight – we’re all fighters. But can you do it when you’re on top of the mountain? How do you stay there? You stay there with character. Talent will get there; character will allow you to stay there. You stay there with character, you stay there with heart, you stay there with will.”
As a former NBA journeyman, there is perhaps no coach on the planet more qualified to deliver this message. Growing up in a tough Los Angeles neighborhood, playing in the NBA was a dream of Ollie’s. He played 12 seasons in the NBA, but he was unable to spend a single one of them savoring the moment. Instead, his career evolved into a perpetual fight for survival, jammed with ten day contracts and afforded zero promises. Ollie knew that even a brief blip in conditioning or seemingly harmless deviation from the religious study of game film and opponent tendencies could result in a one-way ticket abroad.
Ollie’s exhaustive commitment to maximizing every grain of potential allowed him to stay afloat in a cut-throat business longer than he had any right to, and as one examines the trajectory of last year’s team – and how round after round, people picked against them – it is difficult not to view them manifestation of their head coach. This season, their challenge is to remain atop the proverbial mountain that nobody ever thought they’d get to in the first place, and while the words of coaches who know little or nothing about that sort of thing may ring hollow, Ollie’s credibility may allow him to connect to and teach his players in ways that resonate more meaningfully.
Many of you may recall that I wrote a near 9,000 word preview on the Huskies last season. “After that many words, you must have been well-informed enough to have a pretty good idea of how good we were going to be”, you might be thinking. Not so much. Actually, among the words written in my preview, I managed to produce this gem: “Do I think this team can win a championship? Gun to my head, no.” Fortunately, after mischaracterizing the team in so many ways last preseason, I can at least assure you that I am not drunk off success.
My preview last season revolved around six extensively scouted videos from the 2012-13 season. However, with fewer known commodities returning this season, I have chosen to take a more generalized, less focused approach to my preview this year. There is still plenty to learn – particularly relating to Ollie and the culture of veracity he is cultivating here – by re-watching tape from last season, but as far as player personnel is concerned, there is a degree of projecting and guess work that has to be done. As such, here are five unresolved questions – all of which will be answered at some point during the year – that will define the 2014-15 Huskies:
How Should the Events of Last Season Mold our Expectations for this Year?
I promise this will be the only question that’s more reflective than projecting, but I think it’s important to contextualize the greatness of last season’s run before we proceed. Kevin Ollie’s coaching performance during the NCAA Tournament last season graded so far beyond the realm of what is generally considered customary for a second year coach that it defies the cogency of any description I can muster. Much has been made of his proficiency adapting to various unorthodox coaching maneuvers, out-scheming Hall of Fame head coaches, and utilizing personnel, but make no mistake, the majority of his success was the product of tireless, year-long work cultivating a culture of professionalism.
And as it relates to the 2013-14 Huskies, professionalism is a word that cannot be stressed enough. The roster was composed of tremendously gifted athletes who possess more physical gifts than you or I could dream of, but what distinguished them from their peers on the grandest of stages was their dedication to their craft. Kevin Ollie, upon being named head coach in the fall of 2012, embarked on an inclusive mission to transform each and every one of his players into an adolescent version of himself, treating each of them individually with the levels of delicacy, candidness, and inspiration required to appeal to the competitor and man inside them. It was a rigorous, systematic process that demanded maximum amounts of energy on the court, in the classroom, and in the community. The result of this perpetual building of character was a group of men, hardened and humbled by their own personal experiences and shortcomings, that devoted hours of daily work to film study, mastering the games finer skills, and connecting to their teammates.
The championship runs of the UConn basketball program in 2011, and now most recently in 2014, have elicited predictable refrains from opposing fans. A couple such examples of congratulatory reactions with unsubtle undertones of resentment: “Sure, UConn was a great team, but the tournament is unpredictable.” “All it takes to win in March is a team that gets hot at the right time.” “UConn won the whole thing, but I don’t really think they were the best team.” These, and a whole host of other statements designed to undermine the extraordinary accomplishments of this program, are not without morsels of truth. The Tournament is unpredictable, the best team doesn’t always win, and being crowned champion requires a whole lot of luck. But there is a fragile, secretive art to navigating the trenches of scrutinized, pressure-packed basketball, and players who have been trained as professionals are more equipped to handle it. The chaotic, quick-hitting nature of March leaves the unprepared no time to repent on shortcuts of basketball past, and those with the mental capacity to digest pages of opponent trends and strategic wrinkles in a short period of time step onto the court with a decided edge. At its core, the NCAA Tournament is a form of designed chaos that occasionally feels ruthless in its suddenness. Players that will be named to multiple NBA all-star teams are regularly sent packing before the end of the American work day and storied careers vanish in the span of 40 fast-paced minutes.
In essence, the NCAA Tournament is an unforgiving regression model that isn’t actually all that efficient at identifying the best team. Yet, while respected powerhouses struggle to reach the second weekend with any degree of consistency, Connecticut has registered a staggering 26-5 tournament record in their last eight tournament appearances and an 8-1 mark all-time in final fours. These are figures that challenge the opening sentence of this paragraph and leave opposing fans befuddled. At some point, those records are no longer an out-performance of statistical models. They are a profound testament to the coaches at this University – and this includes scouts, assistants, video coordinators, you name it – and their ability to communicate the principles of the various strategic installments that accompany every tournament game. Villanova may employ drastically different pick-and-roll coverages, spacing alignments, dribble-drive techniques, and offensive philosophies than St. Joe’s, and all of those microscopic tendencies that are invisible to the naked eye must be exhaustively scouted, presented, and memorized by players in the course of 48 short hours.
This is all an extremely convoluted way of telling you we have world-class coaches, but it’s also important to remember that mastering all of these idiosyncrasies to the extent that your body is functioning subconsciously within the schemes requires a vast amount of intellectual aptitude and basketball instincts. Intelligence and instincts were two things the 2013-14 UConn Huskies held over their opponents last season in every single tournament game, with the possible exception being their opener against St. Josephs.
The concepts of basketball intelligence, muscle memory, and learning capacity are somewhat abstruse and inaccessible devoid of context, so let’s reignite the time machine and travel back to Friday, March 21st. Connecticut has just fended off a barrage of post-ups, slip screens, off-ball counters, and everything else the veteran Phil Martelli was able to coax from his personnel (to read my extensive observations on this game, click here ). Next up was Villanova, an offense with visions of spreading the floor, attacking the creases in the defense, and kicking to three point shooters. It was the very embodiment of a drive-and-kick offense, and one with little variation. Yet still, it was a stark contrast from what the Huskies had encountered a day before, and while the St. Joes’ post-up heavy offense demanded an unyielding commitment to assignment basketball, Villanova’s trinity of slippery guards figured to challenge the fabric of Connecticut’s help and recover principles.
After doing battle with a host of offensively challenged AAC teams for the majority of conference play, the opening minutes served as a rude awakening for a UConn team not familiar with Villanova’s sets. The Wildcats storm to a 13-5 lead before the first TV timeout, and following a Ryan Arcidiacono transition layup, Kevin Ollie calls timeout himself to express his dissatisfaction. Like most spread offenses, penetration is generally a means to an end. By beating the initial defender to the paint, surrounding perimeter defenders are subject to being drawn into the vortex of bodies and then finding themselves vulnerable to a blow-by on a reckless close-out. As was the case below, at about the 17:40 mark in the first half:
The ball is barely visible here, but Arcidiacono is in the process of firing it out to the wing as four Connecticut defenders converge. Giffey drifts too far off his assignment, and as a result, is unable to halt his momentum chasing back towards the ball in time to remain in front of James Bell. Bell beats Giffey to the left, and for some unknown reason, Ryan Boatright has flown across the court from the weak side, completely abandoning his initial assignment in Arcidiacono and leaving Napier to defend two players at once. The ball eventually ends up in the hands of Darrun Hillard, who is fouled by Napier in his shooting motion.
No one player is responsible for the failures of this possession, but it illustrates the importance of remaining balanced and disciplined, the latter of which is particularly imperative against on offense designed to capitalize on over-aggression. The timeout taken by Ollie at the 15:45 mark was likely an attempt at accentuating the focal points of the scouting report, and just minutes later at about the 14 and a half minute mark, Connecticut submits one of their defining defensive possessions:
Watch how as Arcidiacono drives baseline, Napier is already retreating back to the left corner – where his assignment is stationed – to ensure history does not repeat itself. With the water being cut-off, Arcidiacono reverses course and re-sets the offense, handing the ball off to Josh Hart. Hart dribbles and kicks the ball back out to Hillard, who nearly has his eye socket punctured by Napier upon gathering. And even as Boatright gets back-cut by Arcidiacono as the ball reverses sides, Brimah arrives to seal the baseline, Daniels sags in to deny entry to Brimah’s man, and Napier again drifts to the baseline. This time, Arcidiacono forces it and Napier picks off the pass.
It would be an over-simplification to condense the entirety of UConn’s game plan to “stay home on shooters”, but those four words certainly suffice as a spark notes version. This, of course, is more straightforward in theory than in reality. Game plans tend to be guidelines rather than sacred texts, and the challenge lies in reacting spontaneously to opponent alignments while still adhering to the principles of the over-arching schemes. Throughout the rest of the game, UConn rotated in splendid accordance, communicated diligently, and forced Villanova’s guards into a series of shoot-or-pass propositions by blurring the passing lanes and occupying the paint. And in the modern age of analytics, where offenses are content to punt the mid-range jumper altogether while emphasizing threes and layups, UConn’s defense was as proficient as they come in terms of eliminating both. This dynamic was confirmed resoundingly by the box score: 61% of Villanova’s 51 field goal attempts were threes, and of the 36 field goal attempts by Wildcat guards, 78% were threes. Connecticut’s defense dared the Wildcat guards to finish at the rim, and they did not adjust at any point. If the round of 64 battle between Ollie and Martelli was a stalemate, this one was a beat down.
This sequence is the product of two things: great coaching and player perceptiveness. The former is obvious; it’s one thing to notice a particular tendency on tape, it’s another to identify it and address it in a timely manner. Remaining composed in a situation where others would have panicked – down 13-5 early in the game as an underdog – is similarly commendable for a second year head coach.
But while that aspect is encouraging, we cannot neglect the reality that many of our departing players – Napier, Giffey, Kromah, and Daniels – were long-trained students of the game whose talents often simplified Kevin Ollie’s job. And while I have no doubts Kevin Ollie is precisely the basketball genius last March depicted him as, there is no substitute for the void in crisis-management skills and professionalism many of the players from last year’s team left in their wake. They call it college basketball because it isn’t professional; many of the incoming recruits and returning sophomores will be prone to the same sort of mistakes you or I might have made in college – both on and off the court – and learning to cope with that inexperience probably calls for a recalibration of our expectations. Don’t ever forget, winning is a process contingent on patience, discipline, and work. And while we have a veteran stallion returning in Ryan Boatright, all he can do is accelerate the process. I don’t know when things are going to come together for this foundation of players; it might be February of 2015, it might be November of 2015, or it might be March of 2016. What I do know is that the relationship between hard work and winning isn’t as linear as we may hope for as fans, and if last year taught us anything, it’s that there can sometimes be a flourishing flower buried beneath the rubble of losses and frustration.
As a former NBA journeyman, there is perhaps no coach on the planet more qualified to deliver this message. Growing up in a tough Los Angeles neighborhood, playing in the NBA was a dream of Ollie’s. He played 12 seasons in the NBA, but he was unable to spend a single one of them savoring the moment. Instead, his career evolved into a perpetual fight for survival, jammed with ten day contracts and afforded zero promises. Ollie knew that even a brief blip in conditioning or seemingly harmless deviation from the religious study of game film and opponent tendencies could result in a one-way ticket abroad.
Ollie’s exhaustive commitment to maximizing every grain of potential allowed him to stay afloat in a cut-throat business longer than he had any right to, and as one examines the trajectory of last year’s team – and how round after round, people picked against them – it is difficult not to view them manifestation of their head coach. This season, their challenge is to remain atop the proverbial mountain that nobody ever thought they’d get to in the first place, and while the words of coaches who know little or nothing about that sort of thing may ring hollow, Ollie’s credibility may allow him to connect to and teach his players in ways that resonate more meaningfully.
Many of you may recall that I wrote a near 9,000 word preview on the Huskies last season. “After that many words, you must have been well-informed enough to have a pretty good idea of how good we were going to be”, you might be thinking. Not so much. Actually, among the words written in my preview, I managed to produce this gem: “Do I think this team can win a championship? Gun to my head, no.” Fortunately, after mischaracterizing the team in so many ways last preseason, I can at least assure you that I am not drunk off success.
My preview last season revolved around six extensively scouted videos from the 2012-13 season. However, with fewer known commodities returning this season, I have chosen to take a more generalized, less focused approach to my preview this year. There is still plenty to learn – particularly relating to Ollie and the culture of veracity he is cultivating here – by re-watching tape from last season, but as far as player personnel is concerned, there is a degree of projecting and guess work that has to be done. As such, here are five unresolved questions – all of which will be answered at some point during the year – that will define the 2014-15 Huskies:
How Should the Events of Last Season Mold our Expectations for this Year?
I promise this will be the only question that’s more reflective than projecting, but I think it’s important to contextualize the greatness of last season’s run before we proceed. Kevin Ollie’s coaching performance during the NCAA Tournament last season graded so far beyond the realm of what is generally considered customary for a second year coach that it defies the cogency of any description I can muster. Much has been made of his proficiency adapting to various unorthodox coaching maneuvers, out-scheming Hall of Fame head coaches, and utilizing personnel, but make no mistake, the majority of his success was the product of tireless, year-long work cultivating a culture of professionalism.
And as it relates to the 2013-14 Huskies, professionalism is a word that cannot be stressed enough. The roster was composed of tremendously gifted athletes who possess more physical gifts than you or I could dream of, but what distinguished them from their peers on the grandest of stages was their dedication to their craft. Kevin Ollie, upon being named head coach in the fall of 2012, embarked on an inclusive mission to transform each and every one of his players into an adolescent version of himself, treating each of them individually with the levels of delicacy, candidness, and inspiration required to appeal to the competitor and man inside them. It was a rigorous, systematic process that demanded maximum amounts of energy on the court, in the classroom, and in the community. The result of this perpetual building of character was a group of men, hardened and humbled by their own personal experiences and shortcomings, that devoted hours of daily work to film study, mastering the games finer skills, and connecting to their teammates.
The championship runs of the UConn basketball program in 2011, and now most recently in 2014, have elicited predictable refrains from opposing fans. A couple such examples of congratulatory reactions with unsubtle undertones of resentment: “Sure, UConn was a great team, but the tournament is unpredictable.” “All it takes to win in March is a team that gets hot at the right time.” “UConn won the whole thing, but I don’t really think they were the best team.” These, and a whole host of other statements designed to undermine the extraordinary accomplishments of this program, are not without morsels of truth. The Tournament is unpredictable, the best team doesn’t always win, and being crowned champion requires a whole lot of luck. But there is a fragile, secretive art to navigating the trenches of scrutinized, pressure-packed basketball, and players who have been trained as professionals are more equipped to handle it. The chaotic, quick-hitting nature of March leaves the unprepared no time to repent on shortcuts of basketball past, and those with the mental capacity to digest pages of opponent trends and strategic wrinkles in a short period of time step onto the court with a decided edge. At its core, the NCAA Tournament is a form of designed chaos that occasionally feels ruthless in its suddenness. Players that will be named to multiple NBA all-star teams are regularly sent packing before the end of the American work day and storied careers vanish in the span of 40 fast-paced minutes.
In essence, the NCAA Tournament is an unforgiving regression model that isn’t actually all that efficient at identifying the best team. Yet, while respected powerhouses struggle to reach the second weekend with any degree of consistency, Connecticut has registered a staggering 26-5 tournament record in their last eight tournament appearances and an 8-1 mark all-time in final fours. These are figures that challenge the opening sentence of this paragraph and leave opposing fans befuddled. At some point, those records are no longer an out-performance of statistical models. They are a profound testament to the coaches at this University – and this includes scouts, assistants, video coordinators, you name it – and their ability to communicate the principles of the various strategic installments that accompany every tournament game. Villanova may employ drastically different pick-and-roll coverages, spacing alignments, dribble-drive techniques, and offensive philosophies than St. Joe’s, and all of those microscopic tendencies that are invisible to the naked eye must be exhaustively scouted, presented, and memorized by players in the course of 48 short hours.
This is all an extremely convoluted way of telling you we have world-class coaches, but it’s also important to remember that mastering all of these idiosyncrasies to the extent that your body is functioning subconsciously within the schemes requires a vast amount of intellectual aptitude and basketball instincts. Intelligence and instincts were two things the 2013-14 UConn Huskies held over their opponents last season in every single tournament game, with the possible exception being their opener against St. Josephs.
The concepts of basketball intelligence, muscle memory, and learning capacity are somewhat abstruse and inaccessible devoid of context, so let’s reignite the time machine and travel back to Friday, March 21st. Connecticut has just fended off a barrage of post-ups, slip screens, off-ball counters, and everything else the veteran Phil Martelli was able to coax from his personnel (to read my extensive observations on this game, click here ). Next up was Villanova, an offense with visions of spreading the floor, attacking the creases in the defense, and kicking to three point shooters. It was the very embodiment of a drive-and-kick offense, and one with little variation. Yet still, it was a stark contrast from what the Huskies had encountered a day before, and while the St. Joes’ post-up heavy offense demanded an unyielding commitment to assignment basketball, Villanova’s trinity of slippery guards figured to challenge the fabric of Connecticut’s help and recover principles.
After doing battle with a host of offensively challenged AAC teams for the majority of conference play, the opening minutes served as a rude awakening for a UConn team not familiar with Villanova’s sets. The Wildcats storm to a 13-5 lead before the first TV timeout, and following a Ryan Arcidiacono transition layup, Kevin Ollie calls timeout himself to express his dissatisfaction. Like most spread offenses, penetration is generally a means to an end. By beating the initial defender to the paint, surrounding perimeter defenders are subject to being drawn into the vortex of bodies and then finding themselves vulnerable to a blow-by on a reckless close-out. As was the case below, at about the 17:40 mark in the first half:
The ball is barely visible here, but Arcidiacono is in the process of firing it out to the wing as four Connecticut defenders converge. Giffey drifts too far off his assignment, and as a result, is unable to halt his momentum chasing back towards the ball in time to remain in front of James Bell. Bell beats Giffey to the left, and for some unknown reason, Ryan Boatright has flown across the court from the weak side, completely abandoning his initial assignment in Arcidiacono and leaving Napier to defend two players at once. The ball eventually ends up in the hands of Darrun Hillard, who is fouled by Napier in his shooting motion.
No one player is responsible for the failures of this possession, but it illustrates the importance of remaining balanced and disciplined, the latter of which is particularly imperative against on offense designed to capitalize on over-aggression. The timeout taken by Ollie at the 15:45 mark was likely an attempt at accentuating the focal points of the scouting report, and just minutes later at about the 14 and a half minute mark, Connecticut submits one of their defining defensive possessions:
Watch how as Arcidiacono drives baseline, Napier is already retreating back to the left corner – where his assignment is stationed – to ensure history does not repeat itself. With the water being cut-off, Arcidiacono reverses course and re-sets the offense, handing the ball off to Josh Hart. Hart dribbles and kicks the ball back out to Hillard, who nearly has his eye socket punctured by Napier upon gathering. And even as Boatright gets back-cut by Arcidiacono as the ball reverses sides, Brimah arrives to seal the baseline, Daniels sags in to deny entry to Brimah’s man, and Napier again drifts to the baseline. This time, Arcidiacono forces it and Napier picks off the pass.
It would be an over-simplification to condense the entirety of UConn’s game plan to “stay home on shooters”, but those four words certainly suffice as a spark notes version. This, of course, is more straightforward in theory than in reality. Game plans tend to be guidelines rather than sacred texts, and the challenge lies in reacting spontaneously to opponent alignments while still adhering to the principles of the over-arching schemes. Throughout the rest of the game, UConn rotated in splendid accordance, communicated diligently, and forced Villanova’s guards into a series of shoot-or-pass propositions by blurring the passing lanes and occupying the paint. And in the modern age of analytics, where offenses are content to punt the mid-range jumper altogether while emphasizing threes and layups, UConn’s defense was as proficient as they come in terms of eliminating both. This dynamic was confirmed resoundingly by the box score: 61% of Villanova’s 51 field goal attempts were threes, and of the 36 field goal attempts by Wildcat guards, 78% were threes. Connecticut’s defense dared the Wildcat guards to finish at the rim, and they did not adjust at any point. If the round of 64 battle between Ollie and Martelli was a stalemate, this one was a beat down.
This sequence is the product of two things: great coaching and player perceptiveness. The former is obvious; it’s one thing to notice a particular tendency on tape, it’s another to identify it and address it in a timely manner. Remaining composed in a situation where others would have panicked – down 13-5 early in the game as an underdog – is similarly commendable for a second year head coach.
But while that aspect is encouraging, we cannot neglect the reality that many of our departing players – Napier, Giffey, Kromah, and Daniels – were long-trained students of the game whose talents often simplified Kevin Ollie’s job. And while I have no doubts Kevin Ollie is precisely the basketball genius last March depicted him as, there is no substitute for the void in crisis-management skills and professionalism many of the players from last year’s team left in their wake. They call it college basketball because it isn’t professional; many of the incoming recruits and returning sophomores will be prone to the same sort of mistakes you or I might have made in college – both on and off the court – and learning to cope with that inexperience probably calls for a recalibration of our expectations. Don’t ever forget, winning is a process contingent on patience, discipline, and work. And while we have a veteran stallion returning in Ryan Boatright, all he can do is accelerate the process. I don’t know when things are going to come together for this foundation of players; it might be February of 2015, it might be November of 2015, or it might be March of 2016. What I do know is that the relationship between hard work and winning isn’t as linear as we may hope for as fans, and if last year taught us anything, it’s that there can sometimes be a flourishing flower buried beneath the rubble of losses and frustration.