Pomp, circumstance and some other stuff.

Pomp and Circumstance...

My last main group of college friends (Freshmen when I was a Senior) graduated this weekend.

Also, the first group of kids I coached (as 8th graders) graduate High School tomorrow.


Some of you don't know this, some have forgotten, but...I did not attend my High School graduation. It made for major gossip in a town of 600/class of 29. But it wasn't a big deal to me then and it isn't now. College was another story. My college graduation was a proud day for me. Regardless, I'm happy for all my friends who are and will be walking the stage this weekend.

Other news:

- I get to see (and meet) my favorite singer, James Otto live on Wednesday the 26th in Wichita. Hooray!

- I will have a lovely lady right there with me. Double hooray!
- Cubs still suck. Nothing new there. Negative-two hoorays!
- LeBron to the Bulls? Word is, it could be legit. See?

[Derrick just fainted; he'll be back shortly]

...sorry about that.
- One semi-promising job (if you can call it that) prospect. Details next week. Maybe.
- One coaching spot I'd really like has separated itself from the generic pack. Not that that means anything...

Pretty Prairie High School, class of 2003
Wichita State University, class of 2007--B.A., English

Derrick

I love this game.

I love basketball. Have since before I can remember. I wasn't born with hoards of athletic ability, but a passion for the game I'll put up against anyone's.

As a kid, I'd shovel a foot of snow off the court to shoot in below-zero temps.

As a teenager, I skipped breakfast to shoot before school. I hid in the locker room after practice until everyone left, and snuck back into the gym for another couple hours of shooting--in the dark. I skipped class--a lot--to sneak away to the gym.

I even loved practice. I begged for two-a-days in High School. I loved four-hour practices in college.

When other kids were at parties or out on dates--I was on the court.

It's a beautiful game.

Whether it's a peach basket and a broom in a tiny, quiet gymnasium or two nylon nets 94 feet apart in a raucous arena--a there's a certain peace and tranquility that comes with being between those lines.

First ever basketball court--Springfield College, 1891

U.S. Airways Center; home of NBA's Phoenix Suns, built in 1992 (101 years later).


I'm ready to be a Head Coach. I'm a student of the game, and learning more by the day. Most importantly, I know enough to know that I'll never know it all. Many coaches feel they have nothing left to learn--and that's when they get beat.

Players will enjoy playing for me. Not only do I carry a passion for the game, but I make it simple and fun. Too many coaches complicate things by over-coaching.

It's an easy game. Intricate schemes, techniques and designs are essential, but at the end of the day, my offensive philosophy is simple--and something past players have heard me say often:

"Just go score." -- Too simple? Hogwash. Whether it's a fade-away J from the elbow, a tip-in put-back in traffic, or a tomahawk dunk on the break, a basket is a basket [see also: peach basket vs. nylon net].

So just go score. Get the ball in the hoop, go lock up on D...then do it again.

I digress...

Basketball feeds my soul. I go to it when I need to exercise, when I need to vent. I go to it when I need to think, need to cry, need to breathe.

I go to it in times of joy and times of sorrow--
I loved it yesterday; I'll love it tomorrow.

It's always been there for me, and I love it.
Always have, always will.

Just go score,
Derrick