CATS44
02-10-2008, 11:53 PM
IMO this is a must read for every Tiger player, coach, and anyone else in any way associated with Massillon, its schools, academics, music programs, and athletics.
Sherri Coale is the womans basketball coach at Oklahoma University. She came to OU directly from a local HS in Norman....probably because the program was in such disarray and turmoil that nobody else wanted the job. She has turned it into one of the best programs in the nation.
This is from her blog. Slog thru it for a while, and you will understand exactly how it relates to any endeavor.
Coale's Pet Peeve
Why basketball players can be like squirrels in the road
My pet peeve is clothes that are halfway. Every Sunday morning, after my shower and before church, I spend about 20 minutes hanging up the week's clothes that aren't clean, but aren't really dirty either. My life is full of them. It's a hazard of this profession . . . and of having children, I think. I put on jeans and a shirt and go to my son's high school game--not clean, not dirty. I wear professional clothes to the office and change for practice at noon--not clean, not dirty. I wear a blouse and jacket to tape my TV show--not clean, not dirty. And so they pile. These halfway clothes. And they distract. And, ultimately, when it comes time to do laundry or get dressed for something real, the piles have to be dealt with. Because sometimes you need the parts and sometimes you just need the clarity.
Halfway in basketball can kill you and it's an easy trap for good players to get caught in. For instance, if you're a limited post player with little range and shaky skills, when you set an on-ball screen, you roll to the basket. Every time. You can get really good at it because it's always clear what you are to do. On the other hand, if you're a skilled, athletic post player you might on-ball screen and roll, or on-ball screen and slip, or on-ball screen and pop and now you have several things you could do and it gets really easy to get caught in the middle of all three doing nothing. Now you have muck: halfway basketball.
Players can do it to themselves defensively, too, especially when they're playing against a bunch of guys who do a lot of things well. If the guy you are guarding can shoot the 3 and the post guy on the opposing team can really score, it's easy to find yourself trying to guard both and doing neither. You're too far away from the 3-point shooter to do anything about it if they receive the ball, but you're not close enough to the post to force them to kick it out. You're halfway. Just like the clothes draped over the side of my bathtub.
Halfway can be a dangerous hang out for young players, especially. They find themselves stuck in the middle of the highway all the time. "Should I cut, should I screen, should I drive, should I shoot?" They can't decide, so they do nothing. Or they do what they do halfway. You can almost hear the chaos in their heads. They look like the squirrel that can't figure out whether to continue across the road or return. Unfortunately, I drive past a lot of flat squirrels.
Halfway can happen far less literally, too. It can happen in your head when you don't even realize it's happening. It manifests itself as "I do more than many" and "I really want to be good". Halfway commitment is an oxymoron called interest. There's an old story about the chicken and the pig and the role they play in your morning breakfast. The chicken gives eggs; the pig gives his life. One is interested; the other is committed. Interest is halfway. Interest is trying kinda hard, shooting extra sometimes, wanting to believe. Interest is hoping. Commitment is finding a way to get the rebound; it's shooting extra every day regardless of how many you make or miss in the game. Commitment is knowing. It's the antithesis of halfway.
At the base of my halfway clothes debacle lays a decision. I have to decide to hang them up and count them clean or take them to the laundry room and count them dirty. It's simple, really. They are, in the end, what I choose them to be. Life is eerily similar. We get to decide what we want ours to be; how we think, how we feel, and what we choose to do about it all is entirely up to each of us.
Somebody should really tell the squirrels.
Sherri Coale is the womans basketball coach at Oklahoma University. She came to OU directly from a local HS in Norman....probably because the program was in such disarray and turmoil that nobody else wanted the job. She has turned it into one of the best programs in the nation.
This is from her blog. Slog thru it for a while, and you will understand exactly how it relates to any endeavor.
Coale's Pet Peeve
Why basketball players can be like squirrels in the road
My pet peeve is clothes that are halfway. Every Sunday morning, after my shower and before church, I spend about 20 minutes hanging up the week's clothes that aren't clean, but aren't really dirty either. My life is full of them. It's a hazard of this profession . . . and of having children, I think. I put on jeans and a shirt and go to my son's high school game--not clean, not dirty. I wear professional clothes to the office and change for practice at noon--not clean, not dirty. I wear a blouse and jacket to tape my TV show--not clean, not dirty. And so they pile. These halfway clothes. And they distract. And, ultimately, when it comes time to do laundry or get dressed for something real, the piles have to be dealt with. Because sometimes you need the parts and sometimes you just need the clarity.
Halfway in basketball can kill you and it's an easy trap for good players to get caught in. For instance, if you're a limited post player with little range and shaky skills, when you set an on-ball screen, you roll to the basket. Every time. You can get really good at it because it's always clear what you are to do. On the other hand, if you're a skilled, athletic post player you might on-ball screen and roll, or on-ball screen and slip, or on-ball screen and pop and now you have several things you could do and it gets really easy to get caught in the middle of all three doing nothing. Now you have muck: halfway basketball.
Players can do it to themselves defensively, too, especially when they're playing against a bunch of guys who do a lot of things well. If the guy you are guarding can shoot the 3 and the post guy on the opposing team can really score, it's easy to find yourself trying to guard both and doing neither. You're too far away from the 3-point shooter to do anything about it if they receive the ball, but you're not close enough to the post to force them to kick it out. You're halfway. Just like the clothes draped over the side of my bathtub.
Halfway can be a dangerous hang out for young players, especially. They find themselves stuck in the middle of the highway all the time. "Should I cut, should I screen, should I drive, should I shoot?" They can't decide, so they do nothing. Or they do what they do halfway. You can almost hear the chaos in their heads. They look like the squirrel that can't figure out whether to continue across the road or return. Unfortunately, I drive past a lot of flat squirrels.
Halfway can happen far less literally, too. It can happen in your head when you don't even realize it's happening. It manifests itself as "I do more than many" and "I really want to be good". Halfway commitment is an oxymoron called interest. There's an old story about the chicken and the pig and the role they play in your morning breakfast. The chicken gives eggs; the pig gives his life. One is interested; the other is committed. Interest is halfway. Interest is trying kinda hard, shooting extra sometimes, wanting to believe. Interest is hoping. Commitment is finding a way to get the rebound; it's shooting extra every day regardless of how many you make or miss in the game. Commitment is knowing. It's the antithesis of halfway.
At the base of my halfway clothes debacle lays a decision. I have to decide to hang them up and count them clean or take them to the laundry room and count them dirty. It's simple, really. They are, in the end, what I choose them to be. Life is eerily similar. We get to decide what we want ours to be; how we think, how we feel, and what we choose to do about it all is entirely up to each of us.
Somebody should really tell the squirrels.