It’s ok if you left the Same Ol’ South Florida

SPECIAL TO THE BAY AREA EXAMINER:

By: Collin Sherwin

I freely admit to having given up on USF men’s basketball.

It goes back to something I’ve learned in therapy; if your life is following the same patterns, and you keep making the same mistakes because you are blind to the poor decisions you keep repeating, it behooves you to make changes needed to live a healthier and more fulfilled life. But that takes active and sustained effort. 

It’s not enough just to be aware of your shortcomings; you must put in the work to overcome them. And one of mine was to accept USF for all its flaws. Flaws they would likely never overcome to reach their potential. I’d always love them, but the way you love the genius cousin that just wants to play video games instead of using their talent to contribute to the betterment of society. “Man, they really could do whatever they wanted if they just got it together.”

So when yet another savior of USF basketball was presented in Amir Abdur-Rahim, I thought of the usual platitudes I did with Robert McCullum, Stan Heath (who did get it done at least one year), Orlando Antigua and Brian Gregory. Sometimes I even went out to find reasons why this one might really be the savior. “Seems like a good hire.” “Maybe he can be the guy.”

Being both a fan and someone with a platform covering USF Athletics for the last 20 years meant a lot of lather, rinse, repeat: “No really, it’s different this time” from the PR arm and the development staff and the ticket sellers and the social media clips. And then me going “prove it,” and then the Bulls continuing to show they still were not close to having their shit together.

I watched USF shake things up on the surface, but without actually getting into the termites and mold overflowing inside the walls of the building. Of course I was skeptical. Someone had to actually come in and do the hard work, not just get the resume line before getting on a plane.

I don’t know Michael Kelly well, but I had interacted with him a bit before he accepted the job. And I knew his reputation amongst his peers well enough to believe he would be someone that could carry on Lee Roy Selmon’s legacy of doing things the right way, any bottom-line or professional consequences be damned. He’s a good man of high character, and one that will make the morally correct decision even when that isn’t easy.

And he’s the only reason I could find a sliver of light towards a new dawn of USF Athletics. Even when it was the darkest in the streets, there was no one else I wanted in the big chair. The thesis I’ve had for most of my time in this business is that administrators win more championships than coaches. I knew Kelly would engender a level of loyalty in his staff, and those that write the checks, which could make tangible change happen.

He’d also do the hard work no one else wanted to do in fixing the actual rot in the Selmon Center -- a  building named after one of his mentors, and one of mine.

I intentionally don’t bug MK about anything sports-related, and I try to stay out of his way as much as possible. Because the way I and so many of my generation and passion have been beaten down isn’t a just chalice for them to receive. Kelly makes a big-boy paycheck, and with that comes being accountable for the sins of the past, but it doesn’t make him culpable. A public institution stands wholly above anyone that works for her, so those in charge have to understand the failures of previous administrations, but also not be burdened by them.

I can let people know about the traumas that happened previously, but reminding them of it daily doesn’t help. The negativity around USF Athletics was so overwhelming and toxic -- and I personally was one of the biggest repositories of information as to why (due to years of writing and reporting things like “facts” and “objective data”) -- that stepping back to give him and his team the space needed was probably best for everyone.

It seemed like the right thing to do. After all, USF hired a man of character to be in charge of intercollegiate athletics. That’s the most I could ask. 

With the exception of one or two tweets from me, that strategy has mostly been a success. MK can read what I think on social media if he chooses, and probably mumbles under his breath about a lot of it. But I’ve appreciated his indulgence of my pitch-black sense of humor about the program I love and will always love, even if there are times I don’t like her very much. Because she has lied to me and to everyone that cares about her since forever, and deservedly lost credibility years ago.

The analogy of the sibling with a heroin addiction that swears she’s going to get her life back together if you just let her sleep on the couch, and no really it’s different this time, is the last 20 years of seeing 1-800-Go-Bulls on your Caller ID.

Kelly’s belief in people and willingness to back them as any good leader should might have been his first and most egregious error. He gave contract extensions to a lot of coaches that ended up being terminated before their agreement expired. I don’t know this for sure and I haven’t asked him, but I think he did it because he wanted to bring some stability and buy-in to a place that needed a culture change desperately.

But the rot went even deeper than he knew. And since finding out how much the Property Brothers under-budgeted for demo and reno, he’s just kept clearing brush and replacing drywall. Nose to the grindstone, fixing one problem and waking up to three, and he just kept going. It’s all you can ask of a leader. And with a big assist from a new Board of Trustees and their President that finally decided investing in what everyone always called the “front porch” of the university, instead of just giving platitudes and showing up for the Selection Show cameras, they’ve finally made progress.

So whether it’s this year or next, I want him to walk into an NCAA Tournament or College Football Playoff Selection Show watch party looking like Russell Crowe shouting “Are you not entertained?” Because he deserves the moment.

—

I try not to mention specific members of USF Athletics staff when I write missives, because if you’re doing the work supporting a department and drawing a reasonable paycheck in relative anonymity, you deserve your privacy. But just once I’m going to make an exception, and it’s for Assistant AD for Development Abby Ritter.

Abz bleeds green and gold with the pathology that defined most of my 20’s as well. Her Mom worked for the school since forever. She ran cross-country for the Bulls and was serving in athletics leadership roles as an undergrad. Now she works in the same department I did when I thought Jim Leavitt would have his name on a campus building someday, and we were intentionally leaving room in the USF Hall of Fame for all the forthcoming football conference championship trophies.

She’ll cringe reading this, but in her doe-eyed optimism I see a lot of my past. The relentless optimism about the limitless potential of that slice of heaven between Fowler and Fletcher. “We have the media market! One of the fastest-growing universities in America! Athletes grow on trees here, we’ve just got to keep them home! Why not USF!!??” (flips coloring book to crowd… IYKYK).

Abby is the first person I point to as someone who the Bulls need 100 of working there instead of just one. She gives a shit, she’d cut off a limb for a College Football Playoff berth, and some pure, uncut baseless optimism is always necessary for any organization to reach their true potential.

But from my end, decades of failure, mismanagement, neglect, outright theft, and watching individual ambition betray the mission showed me the dark side of what can happen. When Lee Roy stopped walking through that door, it meant nobody was monitoring the company in good conscience. Lesser men and women took full advantage, from the Board of Trustees to the secretaries.

I have driven Abby insane for years with my unrelenting-yet-justified pessimism about the future of Los Toros. It’s almost an Abbott and Costello routine.

Abby: “Jeff Scott is the guy! He’s going to get it fixed!”
Collin: “OK Batman.”

Abby: “When we go to a bowl game, you’re going to be so upset.”
Collin: “When we go to a bowl game, I’m going to spontaneously combust because that means the space-time continuum will have raptured us all.”

My current day job is to assess sports with all the warmth and coziness of an actuary. It’s a bit of a dichotomy, because I’m actually a very warm fuzzies person. I believe in things like vibes and positive energy, and sometimes you just gotta shake things up for the sake of shaking things up.

I (deservedly!) wavered. She never did. So when we stood on a Yuengling Center court covered in confetti last night, I told her “you’ve been wrong about a lot of shit. You got this one right.” And I was so thrilled for someone that never gave up hope.

And when she’s my age, I hope the Bulls aren’t asking to use her couch as a crash pad. If this success is sustainable, it will be because of people like her. She deserved the moment.

—

Our newest basketball savior believes in another Savior. “To God be the glory” is a refrain he repeats often before extolling the virtues of his team and the university they represent. He appears to be as honest and sincere as they come. But as a dedicated heathen, I don’t think he’s giving himself nearly enough credit.

The former Kennesaw State head coach brought some parts with him from his previous employer, but the way he’s put his players in position to win has been transcendent. Drive the ball fearlessly on the catch. Help in the gaps, be aggressive and contest without fouling, and recover with a psychic connection to the other four players wearing your jersey. Let the 6’10 kid bring the ball up and shoot open 3’s sometimes, even if he can be (ahem) a bit of a liability defensively on occasion.

So many coaches come into a new program and ask you to wait until they can get “their guys” in the locker room. They dismiss the pieces from the previous regime because “if they were good enough, I wouldn’t be here.”

At USF, sometimes you have to work with the tools you have. Selton Miguel had already transferred once from Kansas State. He had no say in who his new coach would be. And this is the kind of buy-in that coach got from a player that could have left without penalty. If that doesn’t move you, you’ll never care about what college sports can and should be.

The key piece that made the transfer with Abdur-Rahim is Chris Youngblood, who might be the most fundamentally sound guard to ever wear the uniform. He has the presence and control of someone who’s won a conference championship before and has been in big moments. And he provides a calmness and composure that radiates through a team that has no reason to play with the confidence it does.

But blending all the pieces is a leader that is clearly as loved as he is respected. Any head job in D-1 requires a disparate set of skills. But tell me where this man hasn’t scored an A+?

The new coach of a program once described as the toughest job in America by Dick Vitale needs to be almost perfect. And in less than a year he’s repeatedly bought students Starbucks, crushed it on social media, inspired a dormant fan base, found flawless ways to attack high-pressure defenses with movement, figured out how to rebound while lacking a natural power forward, and made a team with generations of failure relevant basically out of nowhere.

It took 47 years for USF to win a conference championship, and his first team did it with three games to spare. Other than that, he’s been pretty mediocre.

Because of all the false prophets before him, when he said this ain’t the same ol’ South Florida, I ignored him. After all, he said “sleeping giant” in his press conference too. And I have literally decades of despair as evidence to justify my eye roll and smirk.

But he’s not only won games, he’s done it while representing the school in flawless fashion. The way he shouts out the university president after wins, recognizing she’s an alumna as well. He talks about the man who hired him, and his contributions to the program. He’s done this so perfectly in tone and manner.

He deserves this moment, and so does his team.

A conference championship is not a destination. But it might be a reason to believe the renovation might be done. It’s time to bring in the interior decorator.

Because it just might be time to come home.