Boyle’s Buffs and the Ten Year Rule
As the clock ticks down towards the beginning of Tad Boyle’s tenth season manning the helm in Boulder, something around the program and fan base feels a bit different than normal.
Sure, we’ve seen pre-season hopes of grandeur before, only to see them dashed by Washington’s diabolical home floor or severe cases of Senioritis. At this point, the Colorado fan base approaches every season of its two revenue sports with a healthy level of skepticism in the hopes of being joyfully surprised when things go well and at worst, woefully numb when the inevitable wave of disappointment comes crashing down. But there is a palpable sense of excitement for Boyle’s group and more importantly, there is less a sense that this team could be pretty good as much as a resolved and unanimous expectation.
They need to be pretty good.
Welcome to the ten year threshold of college athletics, where legacies meet aspirations and you either dance with who brought you or cut bait and head home.
Specifically to college basketball, there are four main types of head coaches. You have your Mount Rushmore types, the coaches who will eventually have a statue on campus like Coach K, Roy, Izzo, and the like. You’ve also got your flame outs, who for whatever reason just can’t get things going and generally find themselves relieved of their duties in a few seasons. Of course, then there are the Puddle Jumpers, coaches who hop from one job to the next every four or five years as a way to keep things fresh and collect that next check (think Buzz Williams). Finally, you have everyone else, many of whom find themselves teetering on the brink of lifer and life support. These coaches are caught in their 7th or 8th season at a program where they’ve enjoyed some (nationally speaking) moderate levels of success but haven’t seemed to truly break through to the next level nor fall so hard on their faces that things need to change. This coach right here is in fucking purgatory. So too are the fans and the administration.
See, for this kind of coach, something needs to break one way or another. Otherwise, you’ve got the same tired arguments over and over again about the same tired subjects and between the same tired groups. Some are content to win more games than they lose even without a sense of national relevancy while others have dreams of something more and the incentive to make that happen sooner rather than later. Situations like this look different at every school — Mark Turgeon at Maryland compared to Steve Alford at UCLA — but in the end, something always needs to give. And frankly, I’ve long been a believer in my own Ten Year Rule:
If, by the end of year ten, a coach has not reached a new high in the five most recent seasons, then the time has come for all parties to seek out new beginnings.
There are obvious exceptions to this rule, particularly when we’re talking about programs and coaches knocking on the door of Final Four appearances, title games, and championships. But even at a school like Colorado, which has no historical claim to be among the nation’s elite, you’re still trying to knock on the door of something. It is about time that the Buffs stopped knocking and kicked the damn thing in.
Despite amassing six 20-win seasons, four NCAA Tournament appearances, a Pac-12 Tournament Championship, and a 189–123 record, Tad’s program has yet to finish in the top four of the conference standings. Those four trips to the Big Dance have yielded just one win. This is not to scoff at those achievements, given what the program had shown itself capable of prior to his arrival. While many coaches come into a run down program and preach about raising expectations and reaching new heights, few of them ever do. Boyle talked his shit and then backed it up, never convincing himself that people like me — the ones saying that CU fans should settle for being a competitive Pac-12 program and chill out — were right. I’m sure that if I tried to convince him of that, he’d flash the off-kilter smile he so adores when he’s tempted to unleash holy hell on someone before lauding the resources Colorado does have instead of wishing for what it doesn’t. That’s who he is. That’s why he’s Tad Mother Fucking Boyle and I’m just a guy blogging. But few coaches are untouchable and of those, even fewer of them deserve it.
Heading into Year Ten, we all know the recent trend. Three seasons have gone by without an NCAA Tournament. Instant stars like Josh Scott, Spencer Dinwiddie, and Andre Roberson have been slower to come to Boulder, though the current group certainly has its own NBA talent and collegiate effectiveness. When this season’s juniors signed on for a career in Black and Gold, we all pointed towards this season. If their first two seasons were going to be bumpy thanks to a much needed culture change, coaching turnover, and general growing pains, there had to be a pay off. This season has always needed to be that pay off. Now that we’re here, it’s time to think about how it’ll happen.
The juice at point guard
While college basketball may be a point guard’s game, it is not always a game of highly touted, top ten NBA Draft-hopeful point guards. In fact, since Kemba Walker was drafted at № 9 in 2011, not a single starting point guard on the national champion has been drafted in the following Lottery. How then does this fact support the claim that college basketball is a point guard’s game? Point guard is the most complicated and difficult position on a basketball court. College freshmen naturally struggle with the responsibilities of not only running their own team from that position, but dealing with savvy, veteran point guards of the opposition. Even someone like Tyus Jones at Duke shared those responsibilities with Quinn Cook and Jalen Brunson mentored under Ryan Arcidiacono at Villanova. It takes a combination of time and talent, two things McKinley Wright IV has in no short supply.
From the moment he stepped on campus, the leaks began. He was running toe-to-toe with the Team Colorado alumni group competing in the TBT. Heads were turning in the weight room and those in the program marveled at his strength. Then, when full practices began, the leadership ability and energy was immediately clear for all to see. Tad Boyle had found the heir to his point guard throne. Once he dropped 30 points, 11 assists, and nine rebounds in a win over South Dakota State, anyone paying attention knew there were few heights he wouldn’t reach in Boulder.
By the way, before we move on to the backup point guard spot, I have to ask about McKinley’s nickname. Are we really satisfied with Showtime? Following in the footsteps of such legendary monikers as Smooth, The Mayor, and of course, Jelly, the man deserves something fitting of his place in program lore. Someone page Koenigsberg and have him come up with something witty.
There is an obvious pressure point behind McKinley. Boyle experimented with Shane Gatling running the backup spot last year with mixed results and Daylen Kountz, at least to my eyes, is a guy you want hunting buckets not initiating the offense. Finding someone who can competently accept a part-time role running the offense will go a long way in curbing the notorious issues that arise from Boyle’s curious rotation decisions.
They believe they can fly
After posting 38.3% and 44.8% shooting clips from three in 2017–18, it wasn’t easy to watch D’Shawn Schwartz and Lucas Siewert struggle so mightily to come anywhere close to those numbers last season. Nothing about either player’s shooting form suggests they’ll be unable to recapture their touch. Still, they’ve got to get the job done, particularly because they look like prime contenders to see the most catch and shoot opportunities.
Outside of those two, it makes sense to turn our eyes towards players already mentioned. Between Wright IV, Kountz, and Gatling, you need some combination of two shooting above 35%. As a team last year, the Buffs hit on less than 33% of their shots from deep which is, at all, how you get Capone. Shooting for this team will be a concern until the moment that it isn’t.
With the questions about shooting now posed, I think it’s time to take a deeper dive into Schwartz. Through his first two seasons, when he has a double-digit scoring effort Colorado enjoys a 16–4 record. Last year, the Buffs were 9–8 in games where Schwartz scored fewer than ten points. Now, I’m not saying that he’s going to be the straw that stirs the drink in Boulder, but it’s hard to argue against him being the single most important x-factor that this team has heading into the season. At his best, D’Shawn is a guy who can get into space and work his way towards the rim while taking advantage of spot up opportunities on the wing and in the corner. When he’s not at his best, it can seem like he’s invisible. I’m not sure whether he’s hyper conscious of how his shot feels early on in a game or whether he has hasn’t yet developed the mindset of someone hell-bent on making a difference each night, but look at these numbers. There were 13 games last year, more than one-third of the entire year, where Schwartz finished with fewer than eight points. Of those, there were six games with fewer than five points. Now, none of this is to pile on the kid. We’ve never heard reports of him being troublesome in the locker room. He doesn’t hurt the team with antics off of the court and by all accounts, he’s an incredibly intelligent young man. All of this is just to say that for the Buffs to be as good as they can be, as good as they need to be, they’ll need D’Shawn to reach a new and improved level of consistency compared to what they’ve seen thus far.
Luckily, Boyle has been quick to praise the junior from Colorado Springs. Privately, coaches have been speculating that he was arguably the best and most improved player during summer workouts and open runs. There’s a growing sense that he has primed himself for a breakout campaign, which would certainly add a dimension to this team that it’s been lacking in recent years: reliable wing play. I’m rooting for D’Shawn, even if his dad doesn’t seem to like me very much on Twitter. Nothing would make me happier than to watch him prove himself to not only be a consistently effective scorer, but an all-around difference maker for a group setting their sights on a deep March run.
Thunder, lightning, and a chance of rain
There are plenty of comments to be made about Boyle’s preference for a lineup made up entirely of 6'7 wings who all run, jump, shoot, and rebound. But for now, we’re only going to deal with the real world construction of his current roster. And this current roster? Well, it’s got one of the most dynamic forward duos in the conference and one of the more intriguing nationwide.
First, the Thunder. When Evan Battey committed to the Buffs, then-Scout analyst Josh Gershon remarked that CU was getting one of the most unique prospects in the country. Usually when you describe a prospect as unique something is out of the normal like they’re 5'6 but throw down windmill dunks in traffic or they’re, like, Lonzo Ball. With Battey though, it was immediately evident why he was unique. I’m not saying he looked like Tyler Ziskin and myself, but I’m not sure I’m not saying it. Regardless, he possessed athleticism that neither of us ever had and a skill set to match. The only problem? The young man struggled with school early on and and needed an extra year to get acclimated to high school. I’ll decide not to go on an NCAA rant here but what happened was clearly an injustice. At this point I wonder if it might not have been a blessing in disguise however.
According to Boyle, Battey needed a year not just to settle into life at university but to get back up to speed on playing hoops, having just sat out his senior season back in southern California. That showed at times, though not as often or early as you might remember. In their road loss at San Diego, he was arguably the only one who truly showed up, dropping 18 points. There was natural inconsistency, but I’d really like to put his 8.1 points and 4.4 rebounds per game in perspective. Battey compares shockingly well to Colorado great Josh Scott, one of the most skilled back-to-the-basket scorers in recent memory, when it comes to freshman seasons. In fact, Battey’s per-40 minute numbers exceed Josh’s in both points and rebounds, while both shot essentially the same percentage from the field. I was deservedly mocked last year when I proudly proclaimed that Battey would soon be a 12 ppg, 8rpg type of guy. He’s going to be a POY candidate by the time he’s a senior, write that shit down.
That all leads us to the Lightning, Tyler Bey. I won’t lie, this kid is fucking exciting. No, it’s not just because he sonned the entire city of Tempe from the friendly confines of Las Vegas as a freshman. No, it’s not just because his baseline-extended jumper is a thing of beauty. Frankly, it’s not even the Most Improved award he took home as a sophomore. There’s just this thing he does when he dunks on your head, a look of general disdain for an opponents audacity of even defending his rise to the rim. It’s…*chef’s kiss* beautiful.
In all seriousness, Bey is one of the most talented players to come through the program since Boyle arrived. Blessed with rocket launchers for calf muscles, broad shoulders, high-level shot blocking timing, and a soft touch out to 18-feet, he’s like if Andre Roberson had been able to score in isolation sets offensively. Sure, he is not the defender that Andre was, but no one is. That’s my two-time, shit, one-time Defensive Player of the Year. The most underrated aspect to his development has been his willingness to make plays off the bounce when facing up. When he shows off a sense of urgency off of those pump fakes, he can cover ground in a hurry and explode to the rim as well as you’ll see in the college game. The trick is, now he has to do it for an entire season. Someone with that kind of athleticism should back down from no one at the rim but there have been times, enough that they warrant a mention, where his ability to play a finesse game haunts him. My biggest question going into this year is whether or not his shot has improved out to the arc. I’m guessing that if the college three-point line had stayed put, he’d be chucking threes like he did to open last season — shooting 15 attempts in the first nine games, he converted a cool 26% of those looks. With the new line though? Who knows.
For the purpose of his professional future, the shot is clearly his top priority. Showcasing an ability to handle the ball in the open court and create for teammates in the half court certainly wouldn’t hurt. Depending on who you listen to, Tyler currently projects anywhere from the mid-to-late first round to undrafted. Clearly, this is a huge year for him.
I mentioned Siewert before and there isn’t a ton left on him to cover, but I’ll say this. Shoot the ball! Shoot it every time you touch it and your defender isn’t hugging your hip. The harsh reality for Lucas is that, despite being 6'10, he’s shown to be an average rebounder at best and outside of a few occasions per year, he isn’t someone you want attacking the rim off of the dribble. So, make the most of your minutes big fella. Launch that thing. It’s what you were born to do.
The man himself, Tad Boyle
The general hooah nature of Mike MacIntyre’s pregame battle cry, “players make plays, players win games” didn’t discount the fact that it certainly had some merit. No matter what play is called by a coach or what scouting report is put in place, everything in college athletics comes down to young people, the vast majority of them in their late-teens and early-20s. Their inconsistencies, emotional highs, and penchant for distraction all come into full focus during those moments when, in this case, an arena full of adults wants them to make a shot. It’s funny when I think of it that way, that we’re all planning our social lives around when a group of unpaid college kids get together to play hoops. But that’s the way it is and Tad Boyle accepted the job of being paid handsomely to help those young men win games.
Before we look forward, we must look back. Rewind your clock to the fall of 2009. Alec Burks is on campus, still an unknown at that point, as are the likes of Cory Higgins, Marcus Relphorde, Levi Knutson, Austin Dufault, Nate Tomlinson, and Dwight Thorne II. Coming into the season, Jeff Bzdelik had put together quite the resume in Boulder, including 21 wins (overall) in two seasons and just four Big 12 wins. But he had a veteran group that included Higgins, who would go on to tie the program’s mark for most points in a career, and a future Lottery pick in Burks. Surely that team, with an OOC schedule featuring the likes of Arkansas-Pine Bluff, Coppin State, Texas Southern, Chaminade, Colorado Christian, Colorado State, Oregon State, Cal State Northridge, Yale, Tulsa, and Miami (OH) could find their way to 17 wins. Take care of business in those, you need only a 6–10 conference record to finish 17–15, worst case scenario. EASY, RIGHT?! Then came 15–16 and yet another year without a postseason. Times, they were hard, but a new practice facility was on the way and with it, the theoretical ability to recruit. But Bzdelik bailed. Bouncing out of a program with too few resources to win, he sought out Wake Forest which had been to seven NCAA Tournaments in the ten years prior to his arrival with only one losing season. We know how that went, but it feels good to bring it up sometimes. Bzdelik was a Puddle Jumper that crashed and burned, ironically, in North Carolina. But back in Colorado…
There is no denying the historical significance of Boyle’s results in Boulder. The prior 40 years had seen little more than blips on a radar screen, little to no fan base built, and laid out no evidence that things would ever change. Sometimes, you need the right person at the right time. In fact, I’d argue timing is as important when it comes to hires as the hire itself. It takes alignment, from a coach to the administration, and the athletic climate at the time. The timing was right, there’s no arguing that.
I’m not interested in debating the results we’ve all witnessed. They’re documented, beaten to death, and plain as day for all to see. What I am interested in is Legacy.
This will be the season that dictates what the next five or ten look like, in my opinion. Should this group live up to their billing — they were just picked to finish second in the Pac-12 preseason poll — and ride out a successful postseason (i.e. into the second weekend of the NCAA Tournament, or at least one win) then it’s fair to say that Boyle has raised the bar yet again. You don’t consider looking at a program reset when a coach continues to raise standards with their results. From there, you’d expect the program to continue in many ways as it does now, but with a higher floor. Making the Tournament five out of ten years becomes seven out of ten, with a Sweet 16 run included and no losing records. You continue to reevaluate every five years, seeing just how far this train can chug. But what happens if this team flops? What then for the future? What then for Tad’s legacy?
No matter how much love I have for the man and the kindness he has shown me over the years, the help professionally, or the candor for that matter, programs must be bigger than one person (unless that one person is Coach K). Failing to deliver on this group’s promise, or at least get very close to it, means that the program has officially plateaued. Missing the Big Dance would mean just one appearance in six seasons. Failing to finish top four in the conference standings, outside of something truly extraordinary, wouldn’t be a good look either. Sustained success is measured differently at CU than at Washington, Oregon, Arizona, or UCLA. It’s fair to expect lulls. Bouncing back, however, remains necessary.
I know that even discussing some of this will light a fire under some people’s chairs. That’s okay. If things went my way, Tad would coach at Colorado until the day he retired, having won a conference title or three, reached a couple Sweet 16 games, and so on. There is certainly no guarantee that anyone would or could do any better than he has. But at the end of the day, the Ten Year Rule applies. Ten years is one hell of a ride anywhere, in any profession. In my mind it is long enough and, in this case, a successful enough run to be remembered by all of us fondly, whether that is in two years, five years, or fifteen years. Whenever the final day comes, it will undoubtedly be a somber one.
The idea that Tad cares about his legacy is a tricky one to follow. On one hand, there is no one more proud to coach at the University of Colorado than him. No one appreciates the opportunity and the resources, however they may be limited compared to his conference foes, more than he does. Being honored by this institution in some capacity would surely be one of his proudest accomplishments. On the other hand, Tad truly doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks about the job he’s done. He sets his own standards and holds himself in contempt when he fails to meet them. Sure, he wants his AD to approve, but ultimately he’s someone who treats mirrors like witness stands for himself. His own critic, his own judge and jury. When it comes time for him to look back on his career, he won’t be making excuses about what dice didn’t roll his way. He’ll be thankful, of course, but he won’t crave admiration or approval from anyone outside of his inner circle. That is the kind of approach that leads a coach to pronounce, “hell yeah” in a postgame press conference when asked about beating programs caught up in the FBI scandal. That is the kind of approach that leads to a coach pulling no punches when it comes to criticizing the conference’s performance on the national stage. He’s not here for your bullshit, my bullshit, or anyone’s.
There will be questions asked following this campaign, whichever way it goes. Some may be filled with excitement and others may be more uncomfortable. In the end, the fact that anyone would give enough of a damn to ask them provides enough proof for me.
Tad Boyle has forever changed the trajectory of this program and for that, regardless of what’s to come, I am forever thankful.
Go get ’em, coach.
Predictions you can take absolutely nowhere
There are currently 30 games on the schedule, with either Clemson or TCU waiting after Wyoming. With that in mind, I’m only going to predict the matchups we currently know.
If you’re following along, that’s a 23–7 regular season (with the one remaining game TBD) and a record of 12–6 in Pac-12 play. There’s some room for movement here as there always is, but it’s a run that I would certainly be happy with heading into the postseason. Making postseason predictions really isn’t my thing because there are simply too many variables. I’d like to see this team seeded somewhere in the range of a № 4 to № 6 ideally, giving them a more advantageous route to the second weekend.
I’ll be back throughout the season, chiming in here and there when a story idea presents itself. Other than that, I’ll leave you with one final thought:
College basketball, in so many ways it hurts, is a stupid game. Too many of the players can’t make enough shots and coaches are stubborn to the point of insanity. But there is real fun to be had when you strap yourself in for the ride, even if things get bumpy. This current group of young men have worked through plenty of adversity and while there have been frustrating nights when they didn’t win a game they should have, I’ve never questioned their commitment or effort. If you watch enough games around the country, which I like to think that I do, you can’t say that about every team. So, fill up the Events Center…every game. Get to your seat early and cheer the boys on at every opportunity. Enjoy this coming season for all of its warts and also the nights when it feels like nothing could be better than watching McKinley flex after an offensive rebound and-one. Because it may be a stupid game, it’s our stupid game and before you know it, it’ll be over.
Go Buffs.
