Post by MizzouTiger on Jan 27, 2008 14:47:42 GMT -5
www.kansascity.com/sports/story/462636.html
This KU squad is Self’s kind of team
LAWRENCE | Bill Self loves this Kansas team. You know why? They’re winning games by an average of 25 points. Sure. But there’s something else. They get him.
See, the players know exactly what Self is going to say Saturday afternoon as they all wander into the home locker room at halftime, up 29 on Nebraska, well on their way to yet another Jayhawks blowout. They know it before he says a single word.
They know Self is going to tell them they have to match Nebraska’s intensity in the second half. They know he’s going to say that if they want to be the best, they have to play hard for 40 minutes, no matter the score.
They know he’s going to rant about some seemingly meaningless point — maybe how they need to block out better on rebounds. You know, Nebraska got five offensive rebounds in that first half. That’s too doggone many. Of course, Nebraska also missed 23 of 29 shots, so some were bound to deflect back to a Cornhusker. But that’s not the point. When your team is up 44-15, and you’re looking for something to shout about, screaming about blocking out is as good as anything.
Point is, the players know him. They understand why he’s yelling at them even though they shot 57 percent and held Nebraska to 21 percent, even though they had 12 assists to Nebraska’s one, even though they combined for seven steals and four blocks and held Nebraska’s best scorer Aleks Maric to exactly zero points. They understand. They expect it. More than that — they like it.
“Coach Self isn’t going to let us slow down,” senior forward Darnell Jackson says. “And that’s good because we don’t want to slow down.”
These guys really get Bill Self.
“It’s a different feeling, no doubt about it,” Self says. “I can be myself.”
•••
In a whirlwind coaching life that has taken him from one job to the next, Bill Self is always willing to be whatever he has to be. There’s a great story, told by Missouri State coach Barry Hinson, about their first day together at Oral Roberts. Self had just been hired (and he had hired Hinson) to turn around a basketball program that needed its own faith healing. The team had won five games the year before.
They were introduced to the students in church, just after a chapel service. Oral Roberts himself was there. Hinson looked at Self and wondered what this plain Methodist from Edmond, Okla., could possibly say in that setting. And then Self went up there, and he started talking, and he started chanting, he started yelling — he transformed into an evangelist before Hinson’s eyes.
“We’re going to win!” he shouted, and everyone cheered and shouted “Amen!”
That’s Bill Self for you, the chameleon. Everyone talks about it, his almost magical ability to blend in anywhere, relate to anyone, recruit the inner city, work the suburbs, preach in churches, finesse the press, blend in with the rich and famous, maintain his regular-guy status and still make everyone in the room feel like he is their buddy.
There’s no doubt about it: He could be governor somewhere. Senator, even. Of course, he gets paid better. Anyway, he’s had the knack all his life.
There’s another side to that sort of chameleon gift, though. When the great Ray Charles first started singing, he could make his voice sound just like Nat King Cole or the Platters or just about any of the other great singers of the day — and he was making a name for himself mostly by singing like other people. Ray Charles would say that when they told him he had to find his own voice, he felt scared. He wasn’t sure anyone would like his real voice.
When Bill Self went to Oral Roberts, he was a young Oklahoman trying to revive a program nobody really believed could win. In his fourth year, Oral Roberts won 21 games and went to the NIT.
And, bam, just like that, he was off to Tulsa, a successful program that had been to the NCAA Tournament each of the previous four seasons. He stayed there for three years, helped craft a team that won 32 games and reached the Elite Eight (“That was truly a great team,” Self said). And bam, just like that, he was off to Illinois, a big-time program in a big-time conference. He won the Big Ten the first two years, put together his best-ever recruiting class, won 25 games his third year. And bam, he was off to Kansas, and one of the best coaching jobs in America.
It all happened so fast. Self had never stayed in one place long enough to recruit a player and then watch him graduate. All along he kept moving, kept building, kept selling, recruiting, changing, schmoozing — but now he was at Kansas. And this was different. He’d done all the climbing. But now, at the top, who was he?
When he arrived at Kansas, he found that some players were still upset about the departure of Roy Williams, and they took Self all wrong. They didn’t like the way he challenged them. They did not seem to respond to his fun-loving side. They did not especially like his “you gotta be tougher,” philosophy of coaching.
Self tried to adjust, players tried to adjust, but it just wasn’t quite right. Those Jayhawks won games, won Big 12 championships — they were awfully good teams — but they lost in March, and Self just felt like he wasn’t getting through.
“I’m not going to say Bill was going through an identity crisis — that’s overselling it,” a friend of Self’s says. “But you have to remember, this was his dream job. And those losses took a lot out of him. I think he was trying to figure out how he needed to change to win at Kansas.”
•••
If Bill Self could make a sketch of his kind of team, it would look a lot like these 2008 Jayhawks. They’re deep — already they’ve had seven different players lead the team in scoring. They’re intense — they have held opponents to 37 percent shooting this year. They’re unselfish — they lead the Big 12 in assists and nobody seems unhappy, even though nobody on this talent-laden team is averaging 30 minutes per game.
Everything works with these guys. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have five McDonald’s High School All-Americans, but it’s more than just talent. This team connects. The players like each other. They can play any number of styles. This team can shoot, can run, can press, can dominate a half-court game. This has always been a Bill Self dream — to coach a team that can beat you any way you want to play.
“You usually have a team that’s missing something,” Self says. “You wish that you had one more shooter or one more post player. This team, the pieces just all fit together.”
And this team might be the first team to get Bill Self unfiltered. He doesn’t hold back. He’s unleashing his real voice. “They know me,” he says.
Self knows this is a special team, one that comes along rarely. He has several key seniors — including point guard Russell Robinson and the resurgent Darnell Jackson — and that’s a rarity in big-time college basketball. He has highly recruited players such as Brandon Rush, Mario Chalmers, Sherron Collins and Darrell Arthur who are not playing for big numbers. He has a collection of players who have won a lot, but have not been to the Final Four and have not won it all. So they’re hungry.
“It’s great,” Self says. “I can get in a player’s face, chew him out, and when it’s done it’s done. He knows it’s not personal. I just think these guys have been through so much, nothing fazes them now.”
It’s more than that. Those players have been through all that with Bill Self. This is his fifth year at Kansas, so this is his team, fully and completely. He recruited them all, developed them all, he has watched them all grow up, he has helped them through hard times and gotten mad at them when they backed down and celebrated with them in the good moments. Self has won with a lot of teams. But now, Self is building his team.
And he is amazed to find that they think like him. They brag about their defense — Self loves tough defense. They are intense at the right times — Self prizes intensity above almost anything else. But they also have fun at the right time.
“We just feed off of Coach,” Darrell Arthur says. “We’re at a point now where we have a pretty good idea what he wants from us, and we just go out and do that.”
•••
Bill Self will tell you (and his players will also tell you) that this Jayhawks team hasn’t accomplished anything yet. They are 20-0, and they’re No. 2 in America, and they are blowing the doors off everybody they play. But their story will be told in March.
“Our guys know that, too,” Self says. “I think this team has a chance to be special, there’s no question about that. But it’s too early now to start talking about how good this team is.”
In the meantime, though, Self is enjoying coaching as much as he ever has. Why not? He loves this team. Loves these guys. The other day, Self gathered the players around and asked them if they felt any extra pressure because they’re undefeated. Self knows that if Kansas manages to win at Kansas State on Wednesday, there will be a lot of questions coming their way about a potential undefeated season. No college team has gone undefeated since Bob Knight’s Indiana in 1976. It could be a distraction.
So he asked the players: Do you guys feel too much heat because we’re undefeated? He says the players just looked at him like he was crazy. And then they started laughing.
And, Self realized, that’s exactly how he would have reacted if someone had asked him that ridiculous question. It is funny. They’re just like him.
This KU squad is Self’s kind of team
LAWRENCE | Bill Self loves this Kansas team. You know why? They’re winning games by an average of 25 points. Sure. But there’s something else. They get him.
See, the players know exactly what Self is going to say Saturday afternoon as they all wander into the home locker room at halftime, up 29 on Nebraska, well on their way to yet another Jayhawks blowout. They know it before he says a single word.
They know Self is going to tell them they have to match Nebraska’s intensity in the second half. They know he’s going to say that if they want to be the best, they have to play hard for 40 minutes, no matter the score.
They know he’s going to rant about some seemingly meaningless point — maybe how they need to block out better on rebounds. You know, Nebraska got five offensive rebounds in that first half. That’s too doggone many. Of course, Nebraska also missed 23 of 29 shots, so some were bound to deflect back to a Cornhusker. But that’s not the point. When your team is up 44-15, and you’re looking for something to shout about, screaming about blocking out is as good as anything.
Point is, the players know him. They understand why he’s yelling at them even though they shot 57 percent and held Nebraska to 21 percent, even though they had 12 assists to Nebraska’s one, even though they combined for seven steals and four blocks and held Nebraska’s best scorer Aleks Maric to exactly zero points. They understand. They expect it. More than that — they like it.
“Coach Self isn’t going to let us slow down,” senior forward Darnell Jackson says. “And that’s good because we don’t want to slow down.”
These guys really get Bill Self.
“It’s a different feeling, no doubt about it,” Self says. “I can be myself.”
•••
In a whirlwind coaching life that has taken him from one job to the next, Bill Self is always willing to be whatever he has to be. There’s a great story, told by Missouri State coach Barry Hinson, about their first day together at Oral Roberts. Self had just been hired (and he had hired Hinson) to turn around a basketball program that needed its own faith healing. The team had won five games the year before.
They were introduced to the students in church, just after a chapel service. Oral Roberts himself was there. Hinson looked at Self and wondered what this plain Methodist from Edmond, Okla., could possibly say in that setting. And then Self went up there, and he started talking, and he started chanting, he started yelling — he transformed into an evangelist before Hinson’s eyes.
“We’re going to win!” he shouted, and everyone cheered and shouted “Amen!”
That’s Bill Self for you, the chameleon. Everyone talks about it, his almost magical ability to blend in anywhere, relate to anyone, recruit the inner city, work the suburbs, preach in churches, finesse the press, blend in with the rich and famous, maintain his regular-guy status and still make everyone in the room feel like he is their buddy.
There’s no doubt about it: He could be governor somewhere. Senator, even. Of course, he gets paid better. Anyway, he’s had the knack all his life.
There’s another side to that sort of chameleon gift, though. When the great Ray Charles first started singing, he could make his voice sound just like Nat King Cole or the Platters or just about any of the other great singers of the day — and he was making a name for himself mostly by singing like other people. Ray Charles would say that when they told him he had to find his own voice, he felt scared. He wasn’t sure anyone would like his real voice.
When Bill Self went to Oral Roberts, he was a young Oklahoman trying to revive a program nobody really believed could win. In his fourth year, Oral Roberts won 21 games and went to the NIT.
And, bam, just like that, he was off to Tulsa, a successful program that had been to the NCAA Tournament each of the previous four seasons. He stayed there for three years, helped craft a team that won 32 games and reached the Elite Eight (“That was truly a great team,” Self said). And bam, just like that, he was off to Illinois, a big-time program in a big-time conference. He won the Big Ten the first two years, put together his best-ever recruiting class, won 25 games his third year. And bam, he was off to Kansas, and one of the best coaching jobs in America.
It all happened so fast. Self had never stayed in one place long enough to recruit a player and then watch him graduate. All along he kept moving, kept building, kept selling, recruiting, changing, schmoozing — but now he was at Kansas. And this was different. He’d done all the climbing. But now, at the top, who was he?
When he arrived at Kansas, he found that some players were still upset about the departure of Roy Williams, and they took Self all wrong. They didn’t like the way he challenged them. They did not seem to respond to his fun-loving side. They did not especially like his “you gotta be tougher,” philosophy of coaching.
Self tried to adjust, players tried to adjust, but it just wasn’t quite right. Those Jayhawks won games, won Big 12 championships — they were awfully good teams — but they lost in March, and Self just felt like he wasn’t getting through.
“I’m not going to say Bill was going through an identity crisis — that’s overselling it,” a friend of Self’s says. “But you have to remember, this was his dream job. And those losses took a lot out of him. I think he was trying to figure out how he needed to change to win at Kansas.”
•••
If Bill Self could make a sketch of his kind of team, it would look a lot like these 2008 Jayhawks. They’re deep — already they’ve had seven different players lead the team in scoring. They’re intense — they have held opponents to 37 percent shooting this year. They’re unselfish — they lead the Big 12 in assists and nobody seems unhappy, even though nobody on this talent-laden team is averaging 30 minutes per game.
Everything works with these guys. Of course, it doesn’t hurt to have five McDonald’s High School All-Americans, but it’s more than just talent. This team connects. The players like each other. They can play any number of styles. This team can shoot, can run, can press, can dominate a half-court game. This has always been a Bill Self dream — to coach a team that can beat you any way you want to play.
“You usually have a team that’s missing something,” Self says. “You wish that you had one more shooter or one more post player. This team, the pieces just all fit together.”
And this team might be the first team to get Bill Self unfiltered. He doesn’t hold back. He’s unleashing his real voice. “They know me,” he says.
Self knows this is a special team, one that comes along rarely. He has several key seniors — including point guard Russell Robinson and the resurgent Darnell Jackson — and that’s a rarity in big-time college basketball. He has highly recruited players such as Brandon Rush, Mario Chalmers, Sherron Collins and Darrell Arthur who are not playing for big numbers. He has a collection of players who have won a lot, but have not been to the Final Four and have not won it all. So they’re hungry.
“It’s great,” Self says. “I can get in a player’s face, chew him out, and when it’s done it’s done. He knows it’s not personal. I just think these guys have been through so much, nothing fazes them now.”
It’s more than that. Those players have been through all that with Bill Self. This is his fifth year at Kansas, so this is his team, fully and completely. He recruited them all, developed them all, he has watched them all grow up, he has helped them through hard times and gotten mad at them when they backed down and celebrated with them in the good moments. Self has won with a lot of teams. But now, Self is building his team.
And he is amazed to find that they think like him. They brag about their defense — Self loves tough defense. They are intense at the right times — Self prizes intensity above almost anything else. But they also have fun at the right time.
“We just feed off of Coach,” Darrell Arthur says. “We’re at a point now where we have a pretty good idea what he wants from us, and we just go out and do that.”
•••
Bill Self will tell you (and his players will also tell you) that this Jayhawks team hasn’t accomplished anything yet. They are 20-0, and they’re No. 2 in America, and they are blowing the doors off everybody they play. But their story will be told in March.
“Our guys know that, too,” Self says. “I think this team has a chance to be special, there’s no question about that. But it’s too early now to start talking about how good this team is.”
In the meantime, though, Self is enjoying coaching as much as he ever has. Why not? He loves this team. Loves these guys. The other day, Self gathered the players around and asked them if they felt any extra pressure because they’re undefeated. Self knows that if Kansas manages to win at Kansas State on Wednesday, there will be a lot of questions coming their way about a potential undefeated season. No college team has gone undefeated since Bob Knight’s Indiana in 1976. It could be a distraction.
So he asked the players: Do you guys feel too much heat because we’re undefeated? He says the players just looked at him like he was crazy. And then they started laughing.
And, Self realized, that’s exactly how he would have reacted if someone had asked him that ridiculous question. It is funny. They’re just like him.