FROM SOLITARY REPS TO GREATNESS
From the series: "STAND OUT IN THE CROWD"
by Frank Allocco, Sr.
Series Introduction
Some eye opening basketball statistics:
The beauty of sports is not in becoming a great player, it is the learning of valuable Life Skills that will serve players throughout their lives. If we look beyond the focus of winning and achieving success, the arena of competition is one of the finest classrooms a young player could ever have.
Some eye opening basketball statistics:
- 2.9% of high school players will play college basketball.
- Less than 1 in 75, or 1.3 percent of NCAA Seniors will be drafted by an NBA Team.
- About 3 in 10,000 players (0.03 percent) of high school seniors will eventually be drafted by an NBA team.
The beauty of sports is not in becoming a great player, it is the learning of valuable Life Skills that will serve players throughout their lives. If we look beyond the focus of winning and achieving success, the arena of competition is one of the finest classrooms a young player could ever have.
“Greatness occurs when one seeks and treasures the beauty of solitary repetitions.”
I was extremely blessed to have a great athletic and coaching career in high school and at the collegiate level. During that time, I had the pleasure to compete as a quarterback on the 1973 National Championship Football Team at the University of Notre Dame and to lead teams to three California State Championships as the Head Basketball Coach at Northgate High School and De La Salle High School.
To achieve and succeed at the highest level, teams must have complete confidence and trust in their coaches and their teammates. There must be a clear vision of excellence, a comprehensive plan, and the total commitment of players and coaches working together through countless hours of preparation and practice, consumed with achieving success at the highest level.
I was blessed to see the culmination of that effort and to experience the incredible feeling of joy and pride after victories in three State Championship games. I fondly remember the young men of Northgate, running through the tunnel of the Oakland Coliseum, bursting with pride after their upset State Title win. I remember the young Spartans of De La Salle lying at center court at Arco Arena, never wanting to go home, wanting to revel in the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction of achieving their dream.
To achieve and succeed at the highest level, teams must have complete confidence and trust in their coaches and their teammates. There must be a clear vision of excellence, a comprehensive plan, and the total commitment of players and coaches working together through countless hours of preparation and practice, consumed with achieving success at the highest level.
I was blessed to see the culmination of that effort and to experience the incredible feeling of joy and pride after victories in three State Championship games. I fondly remember the young men of Northgate, running through the tunnel of the Oakland Coliseum, bursting with pride after their upset State Title win. I remember the young Spartans of De La Salle lying at center court at Arco Arena, never wanting to go home, wanting to revel in the feeling of accomplishment and satisfaction of achieving their dream.
"The real roots of victory were years earlier in the countless hours spent alone by young players dribbling in their driveways and shooting in their back yard, the imaginary countdown to victory ringing in their ears."
All of these victories were earned through teamwork, hours of scouting, solid game plans and focused practices. The real roots of victory were years earlier in the countless hours spent alone by young players dribbling in their driveways and shooting in their back yard, the imaginary countdown to victory ringing in their ears.
Nate Murray, a Northgate senior, came off the bench and became the hero as he made four straight free throws to clinch the 1995 State Title victory over an outstanding Artesia High School Team. I remember listening to him being interviewed in the bustling pressroom shortly after the game as he proclaimed; “I have been dreaming of making a free throw to win the State Title since the time I was eight years old and first began shooting in my driveway.” The championship was unforgettable, but the beauty of a young man with a dream working in solitude continues to be the beauty of that special moment.
I have often told our Excel Campers that my favorite moments in basketball were not a successful high school career or playing collegiate basketball at Notre Dame, it was working on my game, shooting baskets on the fan shaped backboard that hung from the telephone pole in my backyard and extended out onto our “court” on Slope Drive. I remember jumping up on the curb and dunking as I emulated the great matchups of Wilt Chamberlain vs. Bill Russell. I remember countless hours playing one on one against myself, imagining I was Bill Bradley (as I developed my fundamentals) playing against “Pistol” Pete Maravich (as I developed my style and flair). I spent hours and hours in the street, dribbling, shooting, dreaming of glory, becoming addicted to the sound of the ball filling up the chain net that hung from the orange rim, countless solitary repetitions that would be the foundation of the success to come.
Nate Murray, a Northgate senior, came off the bench and became the hero as he made four straight free throws to clinch the 1995 State Title victory over an outstanding Artesia High School Team. I remember listening to him being interviewed in the bustling pressroom shortly after the game as he proclaimed; “I have been dreaming of making a free throw to win the State Title since the time I was eight years old and first began shooting in my driveway.” The championship was unforgettable, but the beauty of a young man with a dream working in solitude continues to be the beauty of that special moment.
I have often told our Excel Campers that my favorite moments in basketball were not a successful high school career or playing collegiate basketball at Notre Dame, it was working on my game, shooting baskets on the fan shaped backboard that hung from the telephone pole in my backyard and extended out onto our “court” on Slope Drive. I remember jumping up on the curb and dunking as I emulated the great matchups of Wilt Chamberlain vs. Bill Russell. I remember countless hours playing one on one against myself, imagining I was Bill Bradley (as I developed my fundamentals) playing against “Pistol” Pete Maravich (as I developed my style and flair). I spent hours and hours in the street, dribbling, shooting, dreaming of glory, becoming addicted to the sound of the ball filling up the chain net that hung from the orange rim, countless solitary repetitions that would be the foundation of the success to come.
"The championship was unforgettable, but the beauty of a young man with a dream working in solitude continues to be the beauty of that special moment."
Years later, I would coach the West Team in the McDonald’s All-American Game in Chicago, Illinois. This was a great experience and created so many special memories. I recall the many hours of practice, the countless interviews, the NBA scouts charting every move as they evaluated these future pros. I remember our players getting off the bus to be deluged by kids seeking autographs. The hoopla surrounding the event was second to none with players constantly deluged by fans as they entered and left the arena.
The greatest moment, however, did not occur in the spotlight, it occurred after our final walk through prior to the nationally televised McDonald’s All-American game. As our team left our practice at the United Center in Chicago, Stanley Johnson, Mater Dei All-American and future Detroit Piston, approached me and asked if we could go back out on the court. I explained to him that the arena was closed prior to the final pre game set up for our game. Stanley then said; “Coach, I have to get up some shots.” After telling him a second time that the arena was closed, I was persuaded by his persistence and decided to run back to the arena and shoot until we were told to leave.
As we ran onto the court, Stanley instantly began his shooting routine. I was rebounding for him and reminding him to hold his follow through. He shot jumpers for 15 minutes and then the lights went out. As the arena shifted into darkness, Stanley stopped shooting and began walking off the court. I told him to ignore the darkness and keep on shooting. He regained his rhythm and shot for another 15 minutes in the dark, the ball bouncing and the net swishing the only sounds as he became immersed in his quest to be the best.
My lasting memory of that amazing game was not our 105-102 victory over the East Team. It was not the dozen plus players who would go on to play professional basketball. It was not the overwhelming adulation or the bright lights of Michael Jordan’s arena. My fondest memory was the darkness, the beauty of a boy, a ball and a basket, a young man silently seeking and treasuring the beauty of solitary repetitions!
The greatest moment, however, did not occur in the spotlight, it occurred after our final walk through prior to the nationally televised McDonald’s All-American game. As our team left our practice at the United Center in Chicago, Stanley Johnson, Mater Dei All-American and future Detroit Piston, approached me and asked if we could go back out on the court. I explained to him that the arena was closed prior to the final pre game set up for our game. Stanley then said; “Coach, I have to get up some shots.” After telling him a second time that the arena was closed, I was persuaded by his persistence and decided to run back to the arena and shoot until we were told to leave.
As we ran onto the court, Stanley instantly began his shooting routine. I was rebounding for him and reminding him to hold his follow through. He shot jumpers for 15 minutes and then the lights went out. As the arena shifted into darkness, Stanley stopped shooting and began walking off the court. I told him to ignore the darkness and keep on shooting. He regained his rhythm and shot for another 15 minutes in the dark, the ball bouncing and the net swishing the only sounds as he became immersed in his quest to be the best.
My lasting memory of that amazing game was not our 105-102 victory over the East Team. It was not the dozen plus players who would go on to play professional basketball. It was not the overwhelming adulation or the bright lights of Michael Jordan’s arena. My fondest memory was the darkness, the beauty of a boy, a ball and a basket, a young man silently seeking and treasuring the beauty of solitary repetitions!
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