Making it to Memorial
by Patrick Burr, Sports reporter
“C’mon over here, guys. Have a seat.”
Vanderbilt men’s basketball Assistant Coach Tom Richardson stands before nine young men at 9 a.m. on a rainy Saturday. Before the tryouts for a coveted walk-on position on the 2014–15 roster begins, however, a few housekeeping matters must be cleared up. First things first: “If you don’t have your sickle cell thing, there’s nothing we can do with you today.”
The “sickle cell thing” refers to the NCAA-mandated blood testing required of all prospective college players. For all the romanticism and intrigue enveloping the practice court in Memorial Gymnasium this morning, such bureaucratic moments serve as less-than-subtle reminders that those who showed up today still stand behind the velvet ropes that separate Division I athletes from the rest of the world.
Five of the nine, their tests completed too late for the doctor’s office to process them in time, are forced to sit on the sideline and watch as their counterparts — defined in a kaleidoscopic dynamic as both current competitors and potential teammates — line up on the baseline to begin the trial which could, for better or for worse, define their college experience.
Vanderbilt, coming off a forgettable 15–17 season in an admittedly weak SEC (the conference earned just three bids to the NCAA tournament, tied with 2012–13 for its lowest total in the new millennium), begins its 2014–15 campaign with just two seniors on the active roster. As unlikely as it is that any of this year’s walk-on candidates will end up playing a significant on-court role, crazier things have happened. Last year, tryout alumnus and current roster member Carter Josephs appeared in 20 games as a sophomore, and subsequently earned himself a scholarship.
“Carter’s a good example of (a player) understanding his role and coming and (working) hard every day,” Richardson said. “You just never who’s out here, who might be the next Carter Josephs.”
But the present lends little time for speculation. Richardson calls the four to the top of the key; he explains the drill, and the group jogs over to the baseline. A succession of speed dribbling, shooting and agility drills follows. “Left hand to half court — go!” The squeak of well-worn basketball sneakers rebounds off the concrete walls. “Again, left hand — go!” Sweat dampens cotton T-shirts indiscriminately. Back at The Commons, the rest of the first-year class continues to snore.
“We don’t necessarily want to weed out anybody,” Richardson said prior to the event. “We’re looking to have a practice for the students, (to) see if there’s anybody who can help our team.”
Even with last year’s disappointment in mind, the standards presented by the SEC, home to arguably two of the nation’s top-five teams (the Florida Gators and Kentucky Wildcats) for 2014–15, stand proud, stringent and unwavering. This can present itself as a truth harshly realized. “(First),” Richardson said, “they have to have the skill level, athletic ability and physical stature to be able to compete.”
Most, if not all, of the students overwhelmingly pass this “eye test.” From the tall to the muscle-bound, the full gamut of body types has presented itself for inspection under the scrutiny of Coach Stallings’ assistants. But Richardson acknowledges the obvious — it takes more than an imposing stature to earn a spot: “It’s also an understanding of the role — that probably, guys aren’t gonna be used in games, so they’re gonna be used in practice and have to have the right mentality to understand that, buy into that and compete as hard as (they) can every day.”
This small gym, then, serves as a temple to the ambitious — it’s where Josephs proved himself two autumns ago. More importantly, though, it’s where the judge stands, ready to act. Do these men qualify for promotion?
That’s for the coach to decide. On the court, the four crouch in a defensive stance. “Balance, boys, balance!” Richardson points in a direction; left or right, they diligently obey his outstretched finger. “Slide, slide, slide; keep your butts down!”
High school player, small-town high school star, Division III-level talent who passed on offers from schools hoping for a chance to experience the thrills of Division I competition — come all, come in. “Bottom line,” Richardson admitted, “if we think someone’s talented enough to help us, that’s probably the overriding factor.”
As the students see it, they’re being granted a unique opportunity to thrive among the upper echelons of the college game. “I believe the Vanderbilt basketball program will allow me to further enhance my skills and further develop my (basketball) IQ,” said Jordan Henderson, one of the students forced to forgo practice until his medical data is received by team officials.
When asked about his strengths as a player, Henderson paused for a beat before responding in an assured but humble tone: “I’m a very good three-point shooter,” he said. “I play very well without the ball, and I’m very good at moving and playing help defense.”
The others no doubt hold similarly confident views on their abilities; whether their fortes prove powerful enough to impress the coaches, and whether they are then capable of saving a “Power-Five” conference team from the doldrums of a middling 2014–15, remains to be seen.
There’s no guarantee that any of the students’ performances today will garner a roster spot — as Richardson notes, “year-to-year, (positional need) varies” — this not for a lack of trying. If effort were currency, one would be remiss to exclude the majority of the students in attendance from the varsity roster. After 25 minutes and a celeritous water break, the four again line up behind the baseline. “Set the shot clock to 11,” Richardson commands to an assistant. He asks the athletes to dribble the full length of the court — left hand only — sink a layup, then dribble back and bank in another within the allotted time.
Uncertainty gallops amok at any tryout; all these students can ask of themselves, then, is to pour maximum effort into the present, in order to minimize the variant role of opinion in the process. Good is one of the few universal truths; whether discovered in Ypsilanti or Youngstown, Nodaway Valley or Nashville, it remains true to its definition and removes the tinted shades from in front of even the staunchest of dissenters’ eyes.
Just 39 minutes past 9 o’clock, Richardson calls practice to a halt. The players walk back over toward the sideline to sit beside the others. “If you hear from us, we’ll invite you out for next Tuesday; if you don’t, thank you for coming out.” The other hopefuls — those unable to ply their trade before the coaching staff (sans Stallings) — are informed that they, too, will be emailed with the details. The players walk up to Richardson in turn to express gratitude at the opportunity. Richardson returns each handshake with sincerity: “I appreciate you,” he says, smiling.
No matter the odds, Saturday awarded each player with some semblance of a chance; Stallings may not have been there, but his presence was felt in the watchful eyes of his assistants, tasked with scanning the prospects for any sign of promise, whether through talent or attitude, that can fill a need for this year’s team.
Not 50 yards away, through the main concourse and down a gradually sloping flight of stairs, the Vanderbilt women’s basketball team stretches on the black-and-gold star at the center of Memorial Gymnasium. The loud music and crisp uniforms underscore both an upbeat attitude (the team was ranked as high as 16th in the AP Poll last season) and a commonality of purpose.
Five minutes after the tryout, the practice court has emptied. No trace remains that four students, in their contrasting plain gray tees and New York Giants apparel, had laid their dreams bare there. That rainy morning, two practices took place — in the same gym, yes, but a world apart — for now, at least.
