Seagulls and Sparrows: A Lesson in Team Rebounding
Swen Nater

All of us have picnicked at the park on at least one occasion. It’s a very enjoyable time. Sunshine, games, and food all make it fun. But one of the most annoying things is those seagulls. When we lived in Southern California, our family, on a Saturday, went to the park for a picnic. In the midst of eating our sandwiches, which we housed in a little cooler, we decided to play badminton. We made the mistake of leaving the cooler open and, while we were playing, noticed several seagulls were eating our food. They had taken the sandwiches out of the cooler, unwrapped them, and were in a feeding frenzy, flinging food all over the place.

But the seagulls weren’t the only birds there. Sparrows accompanied them. But the little Sparrows were too small to get in there and join the party. If one tried, he was chased away by the larger birds. So, the Sparrows just hung around the perimeter, waiting for flung food. And, as it were, they had plenty.

Had basketball been introduced to these birds, as a group, they would have been good rebounders. In fact we can learn something from them.

Two basketball seasons ago, I watched one-hundred NCAA men’s basketball games on television. I was interested in learning how many rebounds were obtained by the first player that touched the ball and how rebounds were not. I wanted to come up with a percentage. My hypothesis was: it was close to 50%. When I concluded my research, I discovered I was exactly right. In an NCAA men’s basketball game, between both teams, there are about 60 to 80 missed shots. Only half of those are obtained by the first player that touches the ball. We’ll call those players, “Seagulls.”

So what happened to the rest of the rebounds? With the exception of play stopped because of a foul on the rebound or the tipped ball going out of bounds, they were grabbed by scavengers. They were snatched by “Sparrows.” The question is: were they obtained by Sparrows from the offensive team or from the team on defense?

I’m going to show you something depressing. Look at any box score from any recent game you coached or played in. Rebounds are divided into Offensive and Total Rebounds. Look at the column total for the other team’s offensive rebounds. Usually the number is around 10. Some of those were snatched by offensive-rebounding Seagulls and some by offensive-rebounding Sparrows. If this had been a close game, the defensive-rebounding Sparrows could have made the difference.

Why didn’t the defensive-rebounding Sparrows get those deflected rebounds? They were not acting like Sparrows. They were assuming their Seagull teammates were going to get the ball and they, prematurely, started leaking out on the fast break, thinking they were Roadrunners. Had they remembered they were Sparrows, they would have been blocking out perimeter offensive opponents, and cleaning up around the rim.

Now you’re motivated, as a coach, to teach Sparrows to be Sparrows, right? What do you do? Well, you can take them to the park for a picnic, leave your cooler open, and let them watch the dynamics of the Seagulls and Sparrows, or you can take them to the gym and, through repetition and correction, teach them to be Sparrows before Roadrunners. Before you do, tell them this:

“Because only half the rebounds in any game are obtained by the first player that touches the ball, rebounding Sparrows are equally as valuable as rebounding Seagulls. Pursuers assume every shot is missed and go get the ball. Scavengers assume the rebound will be deflected and get the scraps.” Swen