- Beretta leaves Maryland over gun laws, heads for Tennessee
- Neal Boortz defends Hillary Clinton for representing child rapist
- House task force to recommend National Guard on border, faster deportations
- Top federal judge uses pizza to explain complex Obamacare situation
- Obama, Biden overhaul job training programs
- Drought-plagued Californians turn to paint to keep lawns green
- ISIL now forcing Iraqi shopkeepers to veil mannequins in Mosul
- 11 parents of Nigeria’s abducted girls die
- Genetic mapping triggers new hope on schizophrenia
- Turkish P.M. Erdogan won’t speak to Obama, but he’ll take calls from Biden
Column: The ‘coach’s coach’ finally gets his shot
Question of the Day
ATLANTA (AP) - As coaches go, Michigan’s John Beilein is easy to miss.
He isn’t a flashy dresser. He doesn’t do commercials. He won’t prance up and down the sideline, even late in close games, when everybody else in the arena is up on their feet. His pedigree won’t knock you out, either.
Syracuse coach Jim Boeheim helped Beilein get several of the seven jobs he had before landing at Michigan, and he returned the favor by losing every time they met _ nine straight, right up until Saturday night’s national semifinal.
Somehow, sitting on a stage little more than 24 hours before his young Wolverines faced Louisville for the national championship, Beilein found a way to make even that last result sound like an accident.
“When I came out last night, I gave the speech _ 10-foot baskets, 94-foot court. You don’t need to look up in the stands and see what’s there,” he recalled. “Then I gave in, took a little peek. I might have said something I shouldn’t say on TV, like `Holy Cow.’”
The interview sessions on the day before the biggest game of the college basketball season resemble nothing so much as a mutual admiration society. This time, there was no need to fake it.
Beilein and Louisville’s Rick Pitino got into coaching around the same time, though only one of them rocketed straight to the top. Both are regarded inside the business as virtuosos with differing philosophies of the game _ offensive and defensive, respectively _ but only one of them shelled out his own money to watch the other work.
“Bought his tapes back in the day,” Beilein said, without a hint of embarrassment, “back when he was first putting out all those great tapes.”
“Probably the toughest prep day we’ll ever have,” he said, “with how many things they run.”
That’s the funny thing about Beilein, a coach’s coach if there ever was one. He’s got one of the youngest squads in the game _ ranked 342nd in terms of experience, among the 347 teams in Division I _ but he’d already had plenty of experience facing Boeheim and Syracuse’s vaunted 2-3 zone during his previous stops. So in the week between tournament games, he installed a dozen or more new plays for his offense to deal with it.
Yet if you watched the game, especially the final few minutes _ or any Michigan game, for that matter _ you’d come away with the impression that the Wolverines make every important decision on the fly. And in an odd way, you’d be right.
“He tells you, `Play within the system, but don’t be mechanical, or robotic. Be a player,’” said point guard Trey Burke, who learned to balance those demands well enough to win AP player of the year honors. “That’s important for this team, because we have the type of guys that can make plays. But at the same time, we run an offense that definitely gets us good looks.”
A coach has to be confident to put his fate in the hands of his kids when a game is on the line. Even harder, as several of his peers will attest, is coaching the son of an NBA star, and Beilein has two: Tim Hardaway Jr., and Glenn Robinson III. It goes back to preparation, something nearly every coach pours countless hours into. Yet precious few still feel secure enough to let their players take the actual exam without issuing minute-by-minute instructions, as though it were an open-book test.
“During the recruiting process, Coach B … didn’t give me the car-salesman pitch like every other coach did. They didn’t tell me what I wanted to hear,” Hardaway recalled. “They told me I’d have to earn everything when I get there.”
The president could pay the full price for ignoring Congress
- David Perdue defeats Jack Kingston in Georgia Republican Senate primary runoff
- IRS seeks help destroying another 3,200 computer hard drives
- D.C. appeals panel deals big blow to Obamacare subsidies
- Beretta moving to Tennessee over Maryland gun laws
- 'Straight White Guy Festival' supposedly set for Ohio park
- Gen. James Amos, Marine Corps commandant, slams Obama's handling of Iraq
- DEACE: How to go from civil rights icon to bigot in one quote
- LYONS: Small-arms treaty, big Second Amendment threat
- EDITORIAL: Obamacare in intensive care
- PRUDEN: A deadly enemy within exacerbating immigration crisis
Obama's biggest White House 'fails'
Celebrities turned politicians
Athletes turned actors
20 gadgets that changed the world
Fighting in Iraq