On the same week that one of basketball’s greatest tacticians – and hotheads – Bobby Knight, ended his season, I started mine. And heads were also hot about my coaching tactics.
“No, no, no, you’re supposed to shoot on that goal,” I pleaded from the sidelines, furiously pointing at the other goal across the court. One of our players took offense at my demanding, Knight-ish tone. “You don’t have to yell, Coach Len,” the eight-year-old told me as she skipped to the sideline while the game went on behind her. “Is my headband crooked? My head is getting sort of hot.”
Coaching the 7-to-9-year-old Pink Panther girls’ basketball team is a tad different than coaching the Indiana Hoosiers, or even what I coached in the past – 10- and 11-year-old boys.
For instance, with the boys I coached, I can’t remember one who was afraid of the ball.
Our first two Pink Panther practices consisted of teaching them to catch the ball when passed to them, and not cover their head with their arms when the ball came in their vicinity.
Then we worked on passing drills, shooting drills, rebounding drills, our offensive sets, our defensive sets, and an inbounds play under the goal. When our first game came around, all that was quickly forgotten. Within seconds of tipoff, I had to revaluate my coaching strategy.
“Alright, girls, see that goal over there,” I said during a timeout called about two minutes into the game, pointing to the goal on the other side of the court. “That’s the one we’re shooting on. See the other one? That’s the one we are trying to prevent them from scoring on. Does everyone understand that?”
They all nodded.
“Coach Len,” one girl chimed in.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Is the game over? Can we go play on the playground now?” But it’s still basketball, and coaching adjustments have to be made during the game – just like at any level.
For instance, in the first two games, I’ve had to change some positions to take advantage of our strengths or weaknesses. During the first game, two girls on one side of our zone defense had to be separated – not due to their defensive effort, but rather because they kept talking about Hannah Montana when stationed next to one another.
I had to move another girl from one wing to another on offense because every time she touched the ball, her family would scream from the stands, prompting the nine-year-old to turn toward the stands, wave at them, dropping the ball in the process. I found that by moving her to the side opposite the stands, she couldn’t hear her family’s enthusiastic cheers. With three games under our belt now, the Pink Panthers’ improvement is noticeable.
“So, Dad, that word you keep saying – offense – that means we have the ball, right?,” my nine-year-old daughter asked during halftime of our most recent game.
Like the history of South Carolina Gamecock football, we have specialized in moral victories thus far this season. The team that beat us by 20 a week earlier only beat us by 13 the other night.
In the huddle after our most recent game, I told the girls that I was proud of their effort and how hard they played.
“Who won, Coach Len?,” asked the sweat-soaked blonde-headed eight-year- old. I hesitated before replying.
“Does it matter?”
She didn’t answer. She just grinned, then ran off to the playground.
