As a grad student at Georgia Tech in the late 1980's and early 1990's, I was fortunate enough to have experienced some of the most epic basketball battles at the time when the ACC was ascendant. Tech's own Bobby Cremins, Dave Odoms, Terry Holland, Jim Valvano, Mike K, and of course Dean Smith. each had their own style and their own strategic proclivities. I can't say that I was a connoisseur of basketball strategy, so the ins and outs of the chess match was pretty much lost on me, but I did notice that some coaches had teams that played like their coaches behaved. Valvano's Wolfpack was fundamentally sound but a little wild and freewheeling, Cremin's Tech team was gritty, streetwise, and Brooklyn tough, Coach K's Duke was precise, martial in their mien and athletic, North Carolina was staid but surprisingly hard to pin down because of their coach.
The most aggravating thing was that they always won. Tech was always competitive against the big two of Duke and UNC, but was only occasionally successful.
Fast forward to yesterday, as I once again turn my mind to Dean Smith upon his passing, those memories came out. I had followed the development at UNC with Dean Smith's retirement, the appointment of Bill Gutherage, the rapid ascendance and descendance of Matt Dougherty, and ultimately the hiring of Roy Williams back to the powder blue fold of UNC. I always always alightly surprised to not see Dean Smith on the sidelines of the Tarheel bench whenever I tune in now, just because he is what my memory says is the person patrolling sidelines. As I read through the various tributes to the man and his legacy, it struck me deeply that this is a man lived a life that any worthy coach/teacher aspire to to live.
There are the usual pablum from the word for dollar schmucks like Vitale and the too smooth, too effusive comments from the ESPN talking heads. The words that struck came from his players, his boys because they are all his boys, even as they have aged into maturity as men, they were still his boys. They behave like boys when they were with him as well. The footage shows very large, very elegant men toeing the line, giggling nervously like little boys awaiting for their teacher to give them their approval.
The stories of how the mentor reaches out to the pupil in their times of need, far beyond their four years in Chapel Hill, affected me greatly. This is what we aspire to as a coach, to make a difference in the lives of our charges, far beyond the short time that we spend with them while coaching them. That relationship forged in the beauty of the game, the bittersweet efforts that is a part of the journey to excellence, the pain and heartbreak of losing, the explosive excitement of winning, is what endures. As I hear the players, James Worthy, Phil Ford, Michael Jordan, Doug Moe, George Karl, Charlie Scott, grown men, some with snow capped tops all speaking as if they were one, all professing their love for the man they credit with their lives, their identity, their whole; I begin to feel pulled towards being even more committed than ever to coaching, to teaching, to mentoring.
To be clear, it isn't the adulation of the many that inspired me, it is the realization of the effect that one person can have on so many, the responsibility for so many on the one. The realization that one person can change lives for the better by being honest, patient, and forthright. It is also the belief that doing the right thing, as hard as it is in these days of ever changing norms, is the right thing to do. In the middle of it all is our own compass of doing what is right, coupled directly with the courage to admit your errors and make it right.
It is and will always be hard to do things right. Sometimes our moral compass fails us, sometimes we strike the wrong stance, but we must always persevere and learn from our mistakes because there is so much at stake.
RIP Dean Smith. You had a great life and you have created many great lives with all the young men you have steered towards their own path.
