Sidelines
WE all dream of being tall. I do. You do. Fletch did. Everybody does. Newell’s Big Man
Campers fly, struggle,
dunk and learnBut only for fleeting moments. Let's be real. Does it really look all that cool? Sure, they can see things. They're easy to spot in a crowd. They can reach stuff off the high shelf. They have gigantic shoes. They're more likely than you to be a first-round draft pick.
But there's something else that comes with it. All that "potential" hanging over their heads.
Shawn Bradley walks under the basket and he ducks.
He doesn't need to (barely). He just does it. It must be some sort of reflex action that comes to you when you stand 7-foot-6. And here, this week at the Pete Newell Big Man Camp, Bradley is once again the biggest of the big men. The tallest. The one with the most potential.
In Kekuhaupio Gym at Kamehameha Schools, all the tall guys are getting together. It's something to see them all next to each other.
And then there are the coaches, middle-aged men, some of them short, a few of them balding, all of them sweating, scrambling to play defense against lottery picks.The players are here to learn. Their eyes are big. They're eager. They lean in. They listen. It's a coach's dream. Step-by-step, back to the basics. They talk about reverse pivots and positioning and getting your eyes on the rim. The players are here because they want to be.
It's a player's dream, too. This is a big chance. They've got to put that potential tag behind them.
AH, STROMILE SWIFT. The greatest sports name in history. You know he's going to be great. This isn't a name out of a movie, it's a name out of a book, a more magical name than Jim Thorpe and Roy Hobbs combined. And Swift lives up to it, too, when you watch him. It almost takes your breath away. He's just got so much ... so much ...
So much potential.
His wrist is so smooth, his elbow snaps so true. This 6-9 string bean with power would absolutely own this game, if only he could figure it out. He can do anything you want on a basketball court. He just doesn't know how yet.
This is the secret life of the 7-footer. Some things don't come any easier just because you're tall. Even Bradley gets his fadeaway blocked at the Big Man Camp. They put up the same awful, hopeful shots that you do in pickup games. They are human after all. And sometimes more so.
Swift toils over his footwork, one here, two there, thinks for a second, stops, frustrated, and starts all over again. He doesn't have the rhythm yet, it just doesn't flow. It's like watching Mark Madsen learn to dance. It's a long way from game time, a long, long way from the highlight shows.
"Sometimes it looks easy for us because we've worked hard a lot. A lot of people don't see that," the man with the magic name says.
"That's what we're doing here, we're working on it."
BOBBY KNIGHT'S HERO is Pete Newell, and the players have him in their corner. Newell cares. He's been doing this for 24 years. He understands the unique concerns of today's taller gentleman.
(You can tell Newell's retired, because he's the tannest basketball coach in the world. All the other coaches have that In-the-Gym-For-the-Past-30-Years Sharkbait look.)
The players also get Kiki Vandeweghe. All-Star scoring machine Kiki Vandeweghe, pulling you aside, one-on-one, showing you moves, looking you straight in the eye and saying, "That's the secret."
Vandeweghe loves this. You can tell that he loves this, and when asked, he says that, yes, he loves this. The little tips. The shared knowledge. Teaching the game. "That's part of who I am," he says. "I don't want to give that up." Not even after the Denver Nuggets gave him a real office. Not even since becoming an NBA general manager.
"I learn every day. I learn something new from Coach Newell every single day I come," he says. "That's never been more true than it is today."
When you learn something every day, you laugh at potential. You live your potential. For Kiki Vandeweghe, it's good to be tall. No matter their team, he's helping everyone he can.
"That's been the beauty of the Big Man Camp for a long time now," he says. "It's just pure basketball. This is kind of like a big experimental laboratory for players."
They try things out. They work on things. They fly. They fail. They are human. Only taller. You can see it in their struggles. You can see it when they dunk for fun -- it's still a thrill for them after all these years. It still feels great, you can just tell.
And so in our dreams we're 6-5. Six-nine with Afro.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com