College sports play a vital role at four-year colleges and universities. They create enthusiasm, both on and off campus, and can generate significant income for an institution.

 

Coaches are hired for their ability to win. But what if they don’t? They may be seen as providing a . . .

 

 

Lack Of Direction

 

     I heard talking outside my cubicle. Then a male voice called to me over the top of the enclosure. Looking up, I saw my editor, Frank Warren, a retired pro basketball player, peering over the six-foot high cubicle wall.      

     “Well, Jillian, how’s the piece on Coldby College’s men’s basketball coach’s ‘last hurrah’ coming? His exit from the court last spring, when he announced this fall’s starting line-up, caused some heads to turn. Your article will memorialize the event.”

     “Almost finished. Did some background research, interviewed the coach, and got the whole story—all thirty-three years of it.”

     “Good. Get it to me by the end of the day. We have a deadline to meet.”

     I looked back at the story on the computer screen that I, Jillian Ashe, wrote for Ardent Sports Magazine. The headline, in bold, capital letters read, “LACK OF DIRECTION.”

     Coldby College, a small, private, coeducational institution, located in the little town of Middlebury, population 2,731, sits at the base of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in Northern California. The liberal arts college, named after George Winton Coldby, opened its doors in the fall of 1983.

     Our story begins in the spring of 1984. Coldby had a dream. He envisioned building an institution that would give student-athletes the opportunity to focus on their studies, without the pressure to excel in their sport, a practice they were not likely to find at other colleges and universities. 

     Coldby had a special interest in basketball, as he had played in both high school and college. And so, as president of the college, backed by the members of its founding Board of Trustees, he conducted an extensive search for a basketball coach who could make his dream come true.

     The search produced considerable interest. He received over fifty resumes for the position. However, one stood out from the others—that of Sebastian Jules Rule, a thirty-year-old, with a Ph.D. in Sports Psychology, who also had excelled as a point guard on his college team.

     At the interview, Rule impressed Coldby and the Board with his emphasis on his athletes’ academic achievement at Roseville Academy, a private high school, to such a degree that the college hired him without giving serious consideration to any of the other candidates. It was not until after he accepted the position that Coldby and the Board realized the six years he coached at Roseville had produced just one winning team. However, every player graduated from the Academy and had been admitted to a four-year college or university.

     Rule’s tenure as the coach of the men’s basketball team began in the fall of 1984, the second year of the college’s existence and the year in which he recruited the college’s first team that would debut in the fall of 1985. As the years went by, Rule’s teams more often than not struggled on the basketball court. In his thirty-three years, the team had six winning seasons, made it into the postseason twice, but never won a championship. However, as expected, 92% of his players graduated with Bachelor of Arts degrees, an amazing feat in light of the fact that graduation rates at other institutions didn’t exceed 65%.

     During the latter years of Rule’s “dynasty,” the world began to change. In the summer of 2014, George Coldby became ill, struck by the latest flu bug going around. Early one evening in late August, when all signs seemed to indicate he would recover, Coldby took a turn for the worse. Rushed by ambulance to the hospital, doctors did all they could to save him. However, he died early the next morning. 

     At the funeral, three days later, Board President Jess Wishington whispered to Board member Jordana Wilkes, “Jordana, now that Coldby is gone, things have to change with the basketball team. The alumni are saying the team has had a lack of direction for the past thirty years.”

      “You’re right, Jess,” murmured Jordana. The reason Rule is still here is because Coldby protected him. They both put academic success above winning.” 

     Another Board member, Marcus Garrish, overhearing the conversation, which had gotten louder, chimed in. “Yeah, we have to get Rule before the Board and give him an ultimatum.” 

     “What kind of an ultimatum are you referring to, Marcus?” queried Wishington.

     “Win or else . . . That has to be the new direction for the program.”

     Coldby had stepped down from the presidency of the college two years before his death. Martin Palmer, his Executive Vice President for Academic Affairs succeeded him. Palmer, a bit of a wimp, abided by the wishes and decisions of Coldby. Getting him to move the college’s basketball program in a different direction might not be easy. However, it had to be done.

     On the Monday after the funeral, the telephone rang in Palmer’s office. He picked it up and groaned, “Hello, Martin Palmer here.” 

     “Marty,” the voice on the other end of the line echoed. “This is Jess Wishington.”

     In a somewhat weak, raspy voice, Palmer replied, “Yes, Jess, what can I do for you?”

     “We’ve got a bit of a situation that needs to be addressed, Marty. And it’s pretty urgent.”

     “Situation. Urgent. What are you talking about?”

     “Rule, the basketball team, and its losing ways. We need a winner. We need a leader to provide direction for a ‘winning team.’ So many years of losing has gotten out of hand. We need to give Rule an ultimatum. Win or move on—retire.”

     “But all the kids graduate. Everyone gets a degree. That’s the way George wanted it. That was his dream.”

     “Coldby’s gone, and his dream went with him. It’s 2014. College basketball is all about winning, and we’re not winning. Student and town turnout at games is pathetic. This has got to change.”

     Wishington hung up, leaving Palmer a bit shaken. However, he did succeed in getting him to call a special Board meeting for Friday to let Sebastian Rule know the lack of a clear winning direction would no longer be tolerated.

      When Friday arrived, the entire five-person Board ambled into the President’s Office at 10:00 a.m. sharp and sat down around his huge oval table. It seemed like hours passed, as Palmer and each member waited and fidgeted in anticipation of the coach’s arrival. At 10:15 a.m., Coach Rule came rumbling through the door.

     He stared at the five Board members and President Palmer and blurted, “What the hell do you want from me? The phone message said we had to discuss changes in the basketball program. What changes are we talking about? And why the urgency? For heaven’s sake, we just laid George to rest.”

      “Calm down, Sebastian. We do need to talk, and now is the right time,” Jess said.

     “About what?”

     “The lack of direction of the basketball program.”

     “What the crap are you talking about? The direction has been clear for thirty years. Why do you have a bug up your ass now? Look at my graduation rates. My kids go on to make something of themselves. Stay off my back and let me do my job.”

     “Sebastian, we’ve got to work together. Our fans have stopped coming to our games. We need to get them back, and winning is the answer. You’re no longer a one-man show. You answer to the Board and you’ll do what the Board asks you to do,” Jess snapped.

     “Or what? You going to can me?”

     Jess regained his composure and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone, “In respect to you and your years of service, Sebastian, we’ll give you three years to give us a consistent winner. If you can’t perform by the end of the 2016-2017 season, we will replace you with someone whose goals and direction fit those of the Board and the college.”

     “That’s it? You’re giving me, Sebastian Rule, an ultimatum? You’ve got to be kidding.”

     With a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach, Rule, who never sat down during the meeting, glared at the Board members and President Palmer, who had remained silent throughout the inquisition. Without saying another word, he turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him.

     Three years passed and the team’s winning fortunes didn’t change. The college paper, the Centurion, cried out in the latest issue that the basketball program still suffered from a “lack of direction.” It became clear to all concerned—Sebastian Rule had to go.

     Behind closed doors, in early-March, the Board made the decision to dismiss Coach Rule from his position. After notifying President Palmer, the college’s Human Relations Office made the final arrangements necessary to discharge the coach.

     While this was happening, Coach Rule, not known for being stupid, knew the team’s dismal record the past three seasons meant his tenure at the college would soon end. But since he had not been advised that a decision had been made, he believed he might have one “last hurrah.”        

     Since the entire starting line-up would graduate in June, he alone would choose the replacements. So with little fanfare that spring, he recruited the new starting team, which would play next season, with or without him. In doing so, if it was direction his superiors wanted, it was direction they would get.

     When he completed the recruiting process, Rule called President Palmer. The phone rang twice and Palmer answered, “Hello, this is Martin Palmer.” 

     “President Palmer,” Rule stated in a polite manner. “The starting line-up for Coldby College’s 2017-2018 basketball season has been chosen and you need to make the necessary plans to announce their selection.”

     Palmer hesitated and then said, “Coach Rule, maybe this shouldn’t be done this year.”

     “But President Palmer, the college’s tradition has been to introduce the newly recruited athletes to the student body, faculty, and staff at an assembly held in the college’s sports arena in mid-May, the year before they will join the team. It would be a mistake not to do this for next year.” The phone went silent.

     Then to Rule’s surprise, Palmer replied, “Okay, I will make the arrangements.”

     As the crowd entered the arena on Wednesday morning, May 11, the noise level was deafening. President Palmer moved to the podium and addressed the audience gathered before him. “Ladies and gentleman. Please, everybody, please be seated.”

     The crowd sat and quieted down and President Palmer continued. “At this time, it is my pleasure to invite Coach Rule to the podium to introduce the young men who will represent Coldby College during its 2017-2018 “winning” basketball season.

     Applause erupted throughout the arena, but when it quieted down, Coach Rule was nowhere to be seen. Bewildered, the crowd stared at the empty podium. Then Coach Rule, followed by two drummers, marched out of the corridor between the bleachers and stopped in the center of the arena. He bowed to the crowd and moved to the podium.

     Removing the mic from its stand, he bellowed to the masses assembled, “It is my great honor to introduce the ‘new directions’ of the Coldby College basketball program. Please turn your attention to the bleacher corridor to my left.”

     Heads turned toward the corridor and awaited the emergence of the young men who would transform the basketball team into winners. As the players started to enter, the crowd became wild with excitement.

     The coach’s voice resonated throughout the arena, “And now, I give you the future starting line-up for Coldby College. At guard, 6’3” Jaden West. At guard, 6’4” Maxim East. At forward, 6’9” Kareem North. At forward 6’10,” Antonio South. And, last, but not least, at center, 7’1” Benjamin Compass.”

     Then, as he had entered, Coach Rule disappeared down the bleacher corridor, never again to coach on campus, but certain he had left the college with no “lack of direction.”

 

 

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