Irregular Basketball Coaching Strategies

I loved drawing up plays when I coached basketball. X’s and O’s, backdoor cuts, pick and rolls, oh baby. But what do you do when you have one team that can’t get the ball across half-court, and another one that has a post player with his arm in a sling? You improvise and realize basketball is all about assets and liabilities and knowing the difference between the two.

It was the 80s and I found myself patrolling the sideline as an elementary boys’ basketball coach for a team in Hixson, Tennessee. My wife taught at the school, and I volunteered to coach. We weren’t the most athletic group, but at that age, walking and chewing gum was considered an accomplishment.

One memorable game involved late-game coaching strategy. We had had a hard time getting the ball inbounds all game long. Nothing I had drawn up during timeouts—nothing that players actually remembered when play resumed, that is—had seemed to work. In fact, my plays had the opposite effect as the passes were repeatedly stolen by the other team and turned into easy layups. But somehow it was finally the fourth quarter. We were up one, had the ball under the other team’s basket, and five seconds left in the contest. Game was not in the bag.

“Timeout!” I hollered.

My players ran to the sideline and listened to my latest and greatest strategy.

“JD, I want you to throw the ball in.” JD was our tallest player, and he also possessed the best arm on the team. “All the rest of you,” I continued, “line up at half court. When JD yells ‘break,’ everyone run toward JD yelling his name. JD, do not—I repeat—do not throw to any of your teammates. When I holler “Now”, I want you to throw the ball high in the air and make sure it lands on the other side of half court. Let the other team get the ball. Everyone got that?”

The horn sounded. The gym grew quiet as we set up our play. The ref blew his whistle and then handed JD the ball.

“Break!” yelled JD. And with that one word, bedlam broke loose.

The four remaining players ran toward JD yelling his name. JD ignored them in a most excellent manner. Fans from both teams were screaming their guts out. The opposing coach hollered for his players to stay with their men. Me? I just stood there taking it all in. Finally, I yelled “Now!”

JD took the ball and launched it up in the air toward half court.

The gym grew quiet as all mouths closed. All eyes widened as everyone tracked the flight of the basketball.

Players who had been running toward JD now had to hit the brakes, turn around, and take off toward the other end of the court.

“Bam!”

The ball slammed on the other side of half court and bounced way up in the air.

“Get the ball!” screamed the opposing coach.

Me? I stood there grinning.

Ten pairs of basketball shoes chased after the rock which was making its merry way toward the other free throw line.

Mouths found their vocal chords, and the noise made by all the yelling about blew the roof off the gym.

The clock had not started because no one had touched the ball.

Finally, a guard on the other team picked up the basketball and looked over at his coach who yelled, “Go!”

“5”

The ball was at the free throw line.

“4”

Still not across half court.

“3”

Still not across half court. My team’s defense was smothering the guard.

“2”

Half court.

“1”

Still at half court.

“Buzzer!”

We won!

My players jumped up and down. I walked over, shook the other coach’s hand, and said, “Good game.” He replied with, “Good game. Nice play call.” We both snickered.

On another occasion, I coached a different boys’ varsity team, and we had a hard time having enough players to play the game. It was a small school with low enrollment, making it challenging at times to have enough eligible boys who could play. The challenge became greater when Jeff dislocated his shoulder and his wounded wing was now located in a fancy sling. The problem was that I needed Jeff to play or we wouldn’t have any subs. I knew he had to be in a good amount of pain, but he was a post player and one of my biggest guys—I needed Jeff.

“Jeff, do you think your folks would let you play in the game tomorrow night if I need you?” I asked.

“Sure, Coach. I’ll ask,” replied Jeff.

The next night, Jeff showed up and said it was okay if he played some if I needed him. Before the game, I asked a ref if it was okay if Jeff played the game while wearing a sling.

“A sling? I’m going to have to ask my partner,” said the perplexed official. A few minutes later, he came back and said it was fine.

Wouldn’t you know it, foul trouble hit my squad, and I really needed Jeff in the game.

Timeout.

“Guys, I have to put Jeff in because we’re in foul trouble. Do not pass him the ball because he can’t catch it.”

Simple enough, no?

No, actually it wasn’t because the first trip down the floor after the timeout, one of our players spotted a wide-open Jeff. Obviously the other coach realized Jeff wasn’t a scoring threat and had left him wide open.

My point guard was pressured and noticed Jeff.

“Don’t throw it!” screamed Jeff.

“Don’t throw it!” screamed the coach.

The radar gun clocked the pass at 99 miles per hour. Jeff’s mouth was now wide open, too.

“Thump!”

The basketball hit Jeff right between the numbers. This would have been excellent if we had been playing football and Jeff had been a wide receiver with the use of both hands. Unfortunately, Jeff never had a chance.

The ball shot off Jeff’s chest and led to an uncontested layup for the other team.

Assets and liabilities, oh baby.