Blog Posting #63

Rebounding: Rebounding is a Race for the Ball

Category: Rebounding

There is no “I” in team. Basketball is a team sport. All else nearly equal, the team that works together best—wins. There is no “I” in offense and no “I” in defense. But, coincidentally, there is an “I” in rebounding. When you play offense and defense, you play as a team, helping each other. But once the ball is shot, the best thing you can do for your team is to become selfish and go get it.

Rebounding is an individual race for the ball. When a rebound is in the making, basketball’s great rebounders morph from team players to narcissistic egocentric Mr. Hydes, as they fight everyone else, including their teammates, to be first to the ball. The second the shot is released, they turn into obsessed and possessed hunters, their eyes fixed on the leather as they twist, turn, scratch, and claw to get it first. For them, every released shot begins a race that has only one winner.

This concept is easy to explain on paper, but very difficult to get across to players. Case in point: When I recently taught college post players, I became frustrated at their lack of hunger for the rebound. Oh, they blocked out beautifully and even made a good effort for the rebound when it came in their direction, but no explaining or drilling resulted in even one player realizing he was in a race, knowing the finish line was the basketball (no matter where it bounced), and pursuing it with only one intention—to be the first one there.

So, one evening, as I was sitting in my hotel room, I came up with an idea. I was determined to bring something to the next day’s session that was going to get those post players racing for a rebound like piranhas go after a swimming cow. I didn’t have the time to rent “Chariots of Fire,” but I wanted to. Then, I remembered watching another movie, “The Ron Clark Story,” where the classroom teacher created a “President’s Rap” to help his uninterested students memorize all the presidents’ names. I thought, ‘A rebound rap? Why not?’

The next day, moments before the session, I walked into the locker room, paper in hand, and rapped to the players. Almost immediately after I began, they started making cool background percussion sounds, you know, where they put their mouths to their fists and make noises that sound like clearing throats and spitting.

When I finished the rap, I sensed the message got through; the players seemed restless and eager to get to the court. When I taught rebounding that session, I saw a definite change in the players; they were actually fighting for the rebound amongst themselves.

All I know is, for the time I was there, my job as a teacher was to make them learn. Hey! A teacher’s gotta do what a teacher’s gotta do, right?. If I have to rap to get the message across, so be it. The next time I work with post players on rebounding, I may have to dance or sing, God forbid.