Playing dirty 101
By Tim Keown
Page 2 columnist
Let's start with the premise that every big-time college basketball program is, in some way, dirty.
They do it with bogus classes taught by bought-off professors, or they do it with student managers who double as paper-writers or test-takers, or they do it with good old-fashioned cash.
Tony Cole came with more red flags than a parade in China.
Credit cards, too.
Some coaches don't know, because they don't want to know. Some booster or agent or go-fer is doing the Tony Cole Shuffle in the background, while holier-than-thou Head Coach teaches the flex offense.
It's no secret that basketball is the dirtiest of the college sports. I know a sports agent who chose to concentrate on baseball and football because the basketball racket was so unsavory he couldn't imagine ever acquiring the skills needed to succeed in it. At the top levels, you start by dropping 50 grand at the kid's door, he says, and that just buys you the right to speak to the parents.
So the trick, it seems, is avoiding suspicion and then capture. Honestly, it's cops-and-robbers out there, and the Georgias and Fresno States and even the St. Bonaventures are showing us that some of these guys need help when it comes to avoiding detection. As part of our philanthropic duty, here's a handy primer for those who might think they're too important to learn from the mistakes of others:
As a general rule, the guys who don't get caught are the guys who don't make a habit of berating low-level assistants or grabbing the secretary when nobody's looking. Supposedly low-level folks need to be nurtured. Those folks usually know too much, and they're often willing to share. If you took Political Science 101 -- and by "took," we mean attended your own classes and read your own books and wrote your own papers -- you learned one truth: The people with the least to lose are the ones most willing to lose it.
In a word, standards. You've got to establish some ground rules for your program, and the Lamar Odom Rule is a good place to start. In your mind, choose a number of high schools a player can attend and not raise suspicions. Be firm, and never recruit someone who exceeds the number that represents your comfort level. A guy who has gone to six high schools in three years without moving is a guy who will rat you out in a quarter of a heartbeat. Do the math, man -- he's ratted before or else he wouldn't have accumulated those numbers. Addendum: It's up to you, but we recommend cutting your number in half when it comes to a player's attendance at "military academies."
Of course Lamar stands by Coach Harrick. Wouldn't you?
Nepotism never looks good. If you've got the son of the university president on your bench as some sort of assistant (St. Bonaventure), or you choose your own son as lead assistant (Jim Harrick, Jerry Tarkanian), expect doubts. We see that, we're not thinking The Waltons. We're thinking bad thoughts instead.
Don't pretend. If you know you're dirty and someone gives you the choice between keeping your mouth shut and painting yourself as a victim, shut up. Unctuous and insincere bleatings about "three beautiful daughters-in-law" are viewed as insults to our intelligence. Remember, we're going in thinking the worst, and you're only helping.
Lastly and most importantly: If you sidestep questions by repeatedly telling us, "It'll all come out," we're going to expect that it will.
This Week's List
Still, as the boys of St. Bonnie's found out: We like our cheaters better than our quitters, now don't we?
Of course, the daily double gets you the indignity of hell's eternal blue flame: St. Bonaventure's, it seems, both cheated and quit.
We'll probably get beat off the dribble like snare drums, but we sure as hell won't miss the bus: I've got two games of eligibility left, and so do the guys from the long-defunct 5 a.m. hoops league.
Overheard in a big-league spring training clubhouse last week: One player talking to another, asking, "You mean we can't take a (bleeping) vitamin, or drink a (bleeping) shake without permission? Un-(bleeping)-believable."
Just for the heck of it: Tom Shopay.
Just because nobody expects it this year: Gonzaga.
If you care enough to trace Jason Sehorn's career arc, you'll find the day the Giants really released him wasn't Friday: Nope, it was the day they allowed him to be repeatedly embarrassed by Terrell Owens in the playoffs.
Apparently his caddy said something like, "Well, Scott, it looks like about a 45-foot break starting at the clown's mouth and ending up by the castle door": Scott Hoch, going all St. Bonnie's on us at the Doral.
In other news, Dusty Baker has decided his team is too tired to finish Game 6 tonight, and it will resume tomorrow at 1 p.m. with the Giants leading 5-0: Is there any sport other than golf where the participants have the power to decide when and if the competition ends?
Must have needed a new spigot for the Cruiser: Does John Madden really need to spend his time endorsing something like Rent-A-Center?
You know what?: Even the French are disappointed with St. Bonaventure.
By Tim Keown
Page 2 columnist
Let's start with the premise that every big-time college basketball program is, in some way, dirty.
They do it with bogus classes taught by bought-off professors, or they do it with student managers who double as paper-writers or test-takers, or they do it with good old-fashioned cash.
Tony Cole came with more red flags than a parade in China.
Credit cards, too.
Some coaches don't know, because they don't want to know. Some booster or agent or go-fer is doing the Tony Cole Shuffle in the background, while holier-than-thou Head Coach teaches the flex offense.
It's no secret that basketball is the dirtiest of the college sports. I know a sports agent who chose to concentrate on baseball and football because the basketball racket was so unsavory he couldn't imagine ever acquiring the skills needed to succeed in it. At the top levels, you start by dropping 50 grand at the kid's door, he says, and that just buys you the right to speak to the parents.
So the trick, it seems, is avoiding suspicion and then capture. Honestly, it's cops-and-robbers out there, and the Georgias and Fresno States and even the St. Bonaventures are showing us that some of these guys need help when it comes to avoiding detection. As part of our philanthropic duty, here's a handy primer for those who might think they're too important to learn from the mistakes of others:
As a general rule, the guys who don't get caught are the guys who don't make a habit of berating low-level assistants or grabbing the secretary when nobody's looking. Supposedly low-level folks need to be nurtured. Those folks usually know too much, and they're often willing to share. If you took Political Science 101 -- and by "took," we mean attended your own classes and read your own books and wrote your own papers -- you learned one truth: The people with the least to lose are the ones most willing to lose it.
In a word, standards. You've got to establish some ground rules for your program, and the Lamar Odom Rule is a good place to start. In your mind, choose a number of high schools a player can attend and not raise suspicions. Be firm, and never recruit someone who exceeds the number that represents your comfort level. A guy who has gone to six high schools in three years without moving is a guy who will rat you out in a quarter of a heartbeat. Do the math, man -- he's ratted before or else he wouldn't have accumulated those numbers. Addendum: It's up to you, but we recommend cutting your number in half when it comes to a player's attendance at "military academies."
Of course Lamar stands by Coach Harrick. Wouldn't you?
Nepotism never looks good. If you've got the son of the university president on your bench as some sort of assistant (St. Bonaventure), or you choose your own son as lead assistant (Jim Harrick, Jerry Tarkanian), expect doubts. We see that, we're not thinking The Waltons. We're thinking bad thoughts instead.
Don't pretend. If you know you're dirty and someone gives you the choice between keeping your mouth shut and painting yourself as a victim, shut up. Unctuous and insincere bleatings about "three beautiful daughters-in-law" are viewed as insults to our intelligence. Remember, we're going in thinking the worst, and you're only helping.
Lastly and most importantly: If you sidestep questions by repeatedly telling us, "It'll all come out," we're going to expect that it will.
This Week's List
Still, as the boys of St. Bonnie's found out: We like our cheaters better than our quitters, now don't we?
Of course, the daily double gets you the indignity of hell's eternal blue flame: St. Bonaventure's, it seems, both cheated and quit.
We'll probably get beat off the dribble like snare drums, but we sure as hell won't miss the bus: I've got two games of eligibility left, and so do the guys from the long-defunct 5 a.m. hoops league.
Overheard in a big-league spring training clubhouse last week: One player talking to another, asking, "You mean we can't take a (bleeping) vitamin, or drink a (bleeping) shake without permission? Un-(bleeping)-believable."
Just for the heck of it: Tom Shopay.
Just because nobody expects it this year: Gonzaga.
If you care enough to trace Jason Sehorn's career arc, you'll find the day the Giants really released him wasn't Friday: Nope, it was the day they allowed him to be repeatedly embarrassed by Terrell Owens in the playoffs.
Apparently his caddy said something like, "Well, Scott, it looks like about a 45-foot break starting at the clown's mouth and ending up by the castle door": Scott Hoch, going all St. Bonnie's on us at the Doral.
In other news, Dusty Baker has decided his team is too tired to finish Game 6 tonight, and it will resume tomorrow at 1 p.m. with the Giants leading 5-0: Is there any sport other than golf where the participants have the power to decide when and if the competition ends?
Must have needed a new spigot for the Cruiser: Does John Madden really need to spend his time endorsing something like Rent-A-Center?
You know what?: Even the French are disappointed with St. Bonaventure.
