Repairing the Broken: The Marjodoc Greymyre Story (TCB)

[Izulde]

I can not stand to look at broken things.

Even when the tempest of my rage is in full fury and I smash the nearest object to me, wanting, needing the release that destroying something brings, my ecstacy passes soon after and I weep for the ruin that I have brought.

There is an immense pain in seeing something wrecked, for, even if it is mended, the wholeness, the original perfection, is no longer there. Always there will be cracks, seams... other scars that serve as a reminder that what has once been can no longer be again.

It is lost and loss is the thing I fear the most, particulary the loss of my own life.

My mortality haunts me nearly every night, inducing an insomnia that first had me walking the halls of my parents' home, then the dorm and fraternity house of my college years, where not even the sanctuary of brotherhood and an eternal bond that lasts even into death could quell my horror of no longer being here at the end of my days.

I sought to prolong my avoidance of the real world and so went higher, obtaining a pair of master's degrees, cocooning myself in the collegiate sanctuary for as long as possible. Subconsciously, I thought that if I avoided the troubles of responsibility and a life of mind-numbing work, I would never die, but stay forever young and immortal.

But though I quested like Ponce de Leon, my Fountain did not exist, and two weeks after getting my second master's (In Medieval History, ironically enough; the most devoutly religious Christian period of time), I woke up, stared in the mirror, and realized that I was two years shy of thirty, and that I was no longer young as I once was.

Burdened by this revelation, I fell into a week-long depression, replete with binge drinking and green smoking. By Sunday evening, I was disgusted enough with myself to kick the drunken girl out of my bed (She was divine with her lips, I must confess), threw on my clothes, and walked down to the blacktop basketball court five blocks from the fraternity house to think (Yes, I still stayed there, for I got all my degrees from the same school; a Midwestern public college of no consequence).

There I sat down underneath the north hoop and stared across the court at the south hoop, mulling over my options.

Continuing the route of academia was a possibility, but the professorial life, with its heavy workload, need for constant research and writing, and relatively low compensation, did not appeal to me, even if staying in the world of university did.

My father was a mildly successful executive with a regionally famous company and constantly reminded me that I could have a job with his employer if I wanted and even start at a higher salary than the average overqualified entrant. This did not appeal to me either, for they made such mind-numbing products as toilet paper, toothpaste, and women's hairspray, among other things. I have always hated chemistry.

Where did my talents, then? Looking down now a the centre-court circle, I reflected on my relationship with basketball. I'd been a star in high school and went to my university on scholarship. Since it was Division II, I am certain nobody outside of the fanatical fans had any idea who I was, but that was fine. I was moderately accomplished in my collegiate career, being named All-Conference three times and Conference Player of the Year in my senior season while setting the school record for steals and 3-pointers.

The peewee teams I coached while an undergraduate and and as a graduate student performed exceptionally, frequently winning the league title, and often with a perfect record.

The truth is, coaching was what I loved the most. The strategy, the relationships with the players, plotting practices and reacting to moves during the game, acting on hunches that paid off more than not... I loved all these things, most especially since they were concerned with basketball, the sport I loved above all others.

I was decided then. I would become a college basketball coach.

The first thing I did was to call my old coach, the one who'd headed up the team all four of my playing years. He managed to move up in the world of coaching and now led the Georgetown Hoyas. As it turns out, he was delighted to hear from me and used his influence in the Mid-Atlantic to get me some interviews.

Most teams were only willing to offer me assistant coaching positions, which made sense. I was, after all, a rookie who hadn't become an assistant right after graduation like most did. But there was one school willing to take a chance on me, a team with little in the way of a proud basketball history and a strong academic reputation.

The university wanted a coach with a strong commitment to academics, to ensure their reputation was upheld, and it was this requirement, along with their low status in the basketball world, that made it difficult for them to find a coach that was a mutual match. With my desire to become the head coach of a team, any team, and my impressive academic credentials, the matchup was perfect.

They made an offer: $80,000 for two years. Since I was just starting out, I couldn't say no, and to be perfectly honest, that amount of money was more than I'd expected to make.

So I accepted the position and became the head coach.... of the Marist Red Foxes in Poughkeepsie, New York.

[Coder]

Have you ever picked your feet in Poughkipsee?

[Izulde]

Originally Posted by Coder

Have you ever picked your feet in Poughkipsee?

Can't say I get the reference, I'm afraid, but Marist is one of the colleges I was looking at transferring to once upon a time and I was looking for a low prestige school, hence their selection

[astrosfan64]

I'm looking forward to this.

[Eaglesfan27]

Originally Posted by astrosfan64

I'm looking forward to this.

Me too.

[Coder]

Originally Posted by Izulde

Can't say I get the reference, I'm afraid, but Marist is one of the colleges I was looking at transferring to once upon a time and I was looking for a low prestige school, hence their selection

Oh man.. one of my favorite movies... French Connection!!! Gene Hackman, Rob Scheider.. it's cold, it's gritty, it's dirty.. as far away from Bad Boys you can get.. should be the template for any cop-thriller..

[Izulde]

astrosfan64: Thanks I'm not sure if I can maintain the quality of writing but I'll try!

Eaglesfan27: Manchester's greatest manager commenting favourably in my thread? I'm honoured Thanks Shame about the Glass Man, though life after him is fascinating

Coder: Heard the name of the movie, but that's about it. I'll have to check it out Thanks for the tip!

[Izulde]

Badly cooked pepperoni pizza and sharply biting Mountain Dew are a recipe for complaining stomach and a different kind of insomnia than the one I am most often afflicted with, particularly when consumed around 11 pm.

With my new, freshly signed contract and first paycheck, do I rush out and install myself in a house? No, there is still too much of the professional student in me and two years offers little in the way of job security or employment stability.

So it is that I have found lodgings in an apartment fairly close to the university, close enough that I can walk to work. Eliminating the need for a car is extremely important and Poughkeepsie, being a college town, has enough of a bus system that I can march to the beat of its unyielding schedule structure and be only mildly inconvenienced. Should necessity arise later, or more years and money, then I might bother myself after an auto purchase.

I live cheaply, in a small apartment of connected living room and kitchen, the north-south axis branching off to the west into a bathroom and bedroom combination, neither of which are impressive. To obtain anything larger than these basic necessities would be to indulge in sinful excess. I do not intend on women, for my fraternity does not have a chapter here and so I lack the immediate pipeline into the reservoir of lovely, binge-drinking, binge-smoking coeds.

Thus, I have resigned myself to a monastic existence until the situation improves. A paper plate of peanut-buttered toast sits in my lap, munched on while the bread is still warm, while I go over my first notes on the team. There is nothing on TV after all, and music will give me a headache right now, for it is sweet silence I seek.

Of course, silence is never absolute. There is that classic case of the man placed in the soundproof roof, absolute without object or stimulus that would create noise. Yet even through this, there was still the sound of his breath, and even were that held, his ears would still hum, reminding him that there can be no absolute escape from anything, only an almost-complete fleeing.

But I digress. Careful to wipe my hands on my knobby-kneed, hairy bare legs each time I handle the sheets to avoid staining, I read.

2005-06 Marist Red Foxes First Notes

PG
None can pass. Good to exceptional outside shots. Average ballhandlers. Weak defense. Pathetic scoring instincts. Above average athleticism. Horrible thieves. These are group characteristics shared by all of the point guards we have. Senior walk-on Luke Scott is the best ballhandler and defender of the batch. Freshman Marlon Pohlman shows some promise. Junior Todd London is backup material and no more.

SG
Two dazzling outside shooters in sophomore Art Fisher and junior Marcus Millford. Millford is also very good at the charity stripe, the best passer on the team, and shows some inkling of stealing talent. Fisher bad with the ball and terrible on defense, worse than the rest of this team of bad defenders and passers. Junior Shyrone Grays has a better all-around game than Fisher and so is better.

SF
Good outside shots and bad at everything else. Freshman Joel Underwood particularly offensive, as he looks lost on the court except when launching an outside shot. Looks to have little potential and is a wasted scholarship. May cut. Senior David Davis and freshman Chris Seabrooks are bodies, and Seabrooks appears to have a ceiling only minimally higher than Underwood.

PF
Two freshmen, Tyrone Benton and DeJuan Smith. Benton is a better inside shot and has a stronger all-around game, whereas Smith is the better outside shot and potential. Not sure yet what to do here.

C
A senior, two juniors, and a sophomore here. James Eddins, the senior, and Mario Robinson stand out. Eddins has a good outside shot and is the second-best rebounder. Robinson can get it to fall inside, is a good free throw shooter and is also quite good at drawing fouls, meaning he could be a point generator. Ryan Thomas is a junior and the team's best rebounder, though that's not saying much and sophomore Tom Crosby is a throwaway scholarship.

Analysis:
Our team can't pass, defend, or rebound, but has some good shooters. Who we go with at center will dictate our offensive scheme. If Eddins gets the nod, I'll run the 5-out and if Robinson becomes the top man, then we'll need to think about it. I may yet go with a lineup that features both them in, one at PF, the other at C.

Millford will start at PG, as he's the best option we have there. SG and SF are still very much in the air.

Current Starting 5

PG Marcus Millford (JR)
SG ? (Probably Grays)
SF ? (Wide open)
PF ? (Likely Eddins, maybe Benton)
C Eddins/Robinson, though I'm currently leaning towards Robinson

[Izulde]

Daytime is the great unifier.

With the diffusion of the sun comes dissolution of individuality, of personality, of deeper meaning. Everyone is happy, everyone is in common under the solar blanket. Even in misery, there is sympathy somewhere.

The world of Apollo is a world of lies, of deceit. Many will argue, for they do not have the acuity of sight necessary to see beyond the gilded veneer, to the vivid, sharp contrast beneath.

It is only when gold and royal blue are removed from the sky and replaced by white and midnight blue that relief is possible for most. The mask is removed, the eyesight is refreshed, and one is liberated from illusion, free to enjoy the crisp clarity of divisions that make up the vast richness and unparalleled beauty that is human existence.

What does this have to do with anything? Oh, nothing, I suppose. These are merely the ramblings of a young adult man, hating the sight of 30 and the middle age the flipped E and fat goose egg zero represent. Eternal youth is what I love and long for. It is also why I refuse to date older women.
Not only do they lack the exuberance and sense of wonder of younger women, but they age me by their dedication to propriety, responsibility, and wisdom, however half-baked and half-hearted that dedication may be.

Summer kissed me goodbye and I did not notice, for I trekked all across the vast Empire State, looking for two young men who would be the first steps in raising the Red Foxes to first respectability, then glory. By the time autumn came and danced the dance of dying, golden glory, we had one man in hand, a small forward by the name of Kenny Long, #141 by the current rankings, #1 in our hearts. My bumbling staff has seen him enough times to tell me that he has good scoring instincts and is tough on defense, though the rest of his game is mediocre. Strange for one who is ranked so highly, but no matter. He fills two gaping holes on the team at our weakest position, and it is my expectation that he will start immediately as a true freshman.

We wooed long and hard another dashing male, a PG specimen by the name of Brandon Nelson, who I believe will be an even greater star than Long, but he spurned us after playing with us all summer and most of fall. I suspect him of having feminine traits, for such coyness and games is the province of the teenage girl. Prettiness and a capri kind of cousness all in one form. Ah, Humbert, I understand your notion of heaven coloured with the flames of hell, though you and I have a decade apart in our zones of interest. No jail time for me, thank you.

I return to the main track running through the comfy dark cave of my thought.

Nelson appears set to wed himself to Villanova, but it is no guarantee. It shall be interesting in the end to see where he goes. As for us, we are picking our way through options in the neighbouring states and hope to have our winner before spindly, frigid winter comes along to hug me in her bony, bone-chilling embrace.

On the eve of the new season, the conference predictions are fresh and hot off the presses for our insignificant corner of the basketball world. The Marist Foxes are deemed among the lowest of the low in the squalid hole known as the MAAC. More specific, sages say eighth is our station, Marcus Millford head of nation. At least the scribes and I are in agreement as to the team's golden boy.

But I want higher. I want the joy of mediocrity and would write a hosanna, would sing platitudes to the Pleiades if we were to be .500 in our neighbourhood. My market for happiness would be bullish and we would not be poor us; the bruin of bare basketball wins would be banished. I am Greek for life, you know.

Let me descend from my Olympian, starry-eyed fantasies. We have our starting lineup and tactics finalized.

Opening Night Starting 5
PG Marcus Millford (JR)
SG Shyrone Grays (JR)
SF David Davis (SR)
PF James Eddins (SR)
C Mario Robinson (JR)

Oh, we are an upperclass-happy team this year! Will we be as ancestor Renyard and slyly slip our way to the upper division? Ah, that is foolish talk, but then I am still moderately young, and so can still moderately be a fool.

Tactics
Offense: 5 Out
Defense: 2-3 Zone

Brilliant student-athletes we may harbour, but they are not basketball gods, and so we shall give them a plebian practice program, the better that their patrician minds may turn to training in scholarly pursuits in the main.

We mingle Athens and Rome, yet fight like Sparta.

Or so I dream... but I fear this first year, the only thing spartan about my Red Foxes will be their victory total.

Ah, court war.

Enough. I must sleep.

[Izulde]

The first contest was in the country's most populous state, in the NorCal city of Sacramento, where we faced off against the Sacramento State Hornets. I thought that we might have a chance of winning that one. It would be a fantastic feeling to start off my coaching career with a win.

I experimented with having all of the starting five play the entire first half. It worked well enough to open up a significant lead, but by halftime, the margin was a single point, 33-32 in our favour. No more of that for the second half.

The fresh legs allowed us to build up momentum, and though they tied us twice in the second half, we pulled away after the second all-all, running away with the game and the win by the heady margin of 78-67. Marcus Millford was the star of the game with 19 points, 2 assists, 7 rebounds, and 2 blocks.

His high rebound total for a guard was indicative of just how dominating we were on the boards, outrebounding them 45-32. Four out of our five starters had double digit points, James Eddins being the lone exception, finishing with 6. However, his immense height of 7'0" in the power forward position allowed him to create major matchup problems for the Hornets, and as a result, Eddins led all rebounders with 14.

Our next game was also in the road, in Colorado, the ugliest state in the entire Rocky Mountain region. I hate Colorado, with its bland deserts and tall, but unlovely mountains. It is strange to me that it should be depressing a state, when its northern neighbour, Wyoming, is so beautiful in its rugged terrain. Or maybe I am only bitter because we were shelled 77-48 by the Buffaloes. No, Colorado really is that dreary a place.

Fortunately a piece of good news greeted me after that depressing defeat. Kenny Long officially mailed in his LOI and we now have our small forward of at least the next couple of years. His confirmation of commitment is especially welcome, given that David Davis has been underwhelming in his play and is a senior besides. Furthermore, the others we've thrown in that slot on the court have been even more uninspiring. May Kenny be Our Small Saviour!

After the two trips out west, home became a beautiful sight for us, and we took advantage of the crowd and the long break we'd had since the Colorado game to make a run at the end of the 1st and be up 45-38 over Penn State. James Eddins had 10 points and 4 rebounds just in the first half alone, after a flawless 4-4 performance from the floor. Shyrone Grays hit double digits by the end of 20 too, with 11 while shooting .800 and Marcus Millford woke up from the Buffalo nightmare by shooting .500 and entering the lockerroom with 8 points.

We romped the rest of the way to a merry mauling of the Nittany Lions, 89-54. Marcus Millford finished with 10 points, 7 assists, and 8 rebounds. James Eddins squared up with 14 points and 9 rebounds, and Shyrone Grays led all scorers with 15. Also worthy of note was Chris Seabrooks making 6 of 8 from the field en route to a 13 point, 4 rebound performance in limited action. I decided to give him the start the next game over David Davis to see what he could do with more playing time.

Strong frontcourt play keyed our 101-83 home smashing of the Gardener-Webb Bulldogs, highlighted by the first double-double of my coaching tenure. Mario Robinson, who I'd been considering benching, came to life with a 17 point, 10 rebound performance and James Eddins was right behind him with 15 and 9. Marcus Millford chipped in 16 points, 3 assists, 6 rebounds, a block, and a steal before fouling out. Tyrone Benton starred for the bench in that game, coming out to net .857 on the floor, good for 12 points and 6 rebounds. I noted after that game to keep him on close watch, for if Robinson continued to struggle, I'd shift Eddins to center and put Benton in the starting lineup.

Chris Seabrooks rewarded my faith in him by leading the way with 17 points in a 97-77 squashing of UC-Santa Barbara in our next game, also at home. Mario Robinson also proved my instincts sound with his second straight double-double game, this time 13 and 10. David Davis and Antone Fisher had 11 and 10 points respectively off the bench in what was fast becoming a tradition of a different reserve man stepping up every game to contribute in a significant way.

And so as November comes to a close, we stand at 4-1, but to me, it's a stellar record built on wobbly stilts. The only team of any real talent we played, we were trashed by. The rest of them, even Penn State, simply aren't that good this year.

Thus far, Marcus Millford is the star of the team that I expected him to be and James Eddins and Mario Robinson are the powerful inside duo that I'd hoped for before the season started. Shyrone Grays has been a pleasant surprise in the lineup and nobody could have anticipated the stellar shooting from freshman Chris Seabrooks. It appears the small forward starter spot is no longer guaranteed for Kenny Long next year and I frankly find it a good thing.

There's still a lot of season to go though, and I believe at the end we'll be exposed as pretenders to the MAAC throne, the sages of the media proven correct.

[Izulde]

I have neglected to note that in the season prior to my hiring, the NCAA passed a decree that all conferences and all teams in Division I were required, starting with the next year, to hold an all-inclusive conference tournament. Gone was the Ivy League's regular season champion's ticket to the Big Dance, gone was the OVC's restriction to the top four finishers. Now everyone got a second chance and everyone was invited to the pref party before the bids were sent out.

The NCAA, like the national sororities, abides by a very strict, exacting codex of rules, the analness of which rivals the sourness of Senator Pineapple Dole's face. I've voted for an alternate party candidate multiple times. To hell with elephants and donkeys.

But I digress.

December brought an end to the home feasts and the diet of cupcakes we had been gorging ourselves on, for our first matchup was on the road against a 5-1 University of Alabama-Birmingham Blazers team, who relied heavily on star sophomore small forward Mark Helmsley. He had 11 points by halftime alone, but his teammates shot like men of ice, clearing the way for us to take a commanding 50-32 lead at the break. We coasted the rest of the way to an 86-61 smashing, most of the second half composed of our scrubs getting in. Marcus Millford had an astonishing 8 blocks to go with his 10 points and 2 assists, and it was his rejection clinic that frustrated the Blazer backcourt and deflated their momentum time and time again. Also majorly contributing were Chris Seabrooks and Mario Robinson with 11 and 8 and 12 and 7 respectively. My private opinion is that if Seabrooks maintained his high quality of play, there will be no stopping him from picking up the MAAC Freshman of the Year award this season.

I remember the years the Butler Bulldogs stood as the undisputed kings of the Horizon League, but those dynasty days are done, for they fell to 2-5 on the year after dropping a 75-53 decision to us in Poughkeepsie. Marcus Millford and Shyrone Grays each knocked in 12 points and Chris Seabrooks fell just shy of a double-double with 9 and 10. Luke Scott rang up 13 points from the bench and lead all scorers as we just simply outplayed them.

With all the winning we were doing, I began to worry about complacency and signs of it started to manifest itself in our next game, at home against the University of Illinois-Chicago. The Flames became the first team in a long time to lead us at the half, and though their margin was just a point, 43-42, I lectured the boys in the locker room about not letting a 2-5 team beat us at home and to get our heads back in the game. They'd done a superb job of shutting down Marcus Millford, for he was scoreless at halftime. In fact, only Chris Seabrooks and Mario Robinson were showing any kind of shooting stroke, with 9 and 8 points respectively.

Then in the second half, Shyrone Grays took over, scoring 14 of his 16 points in the last 20 minutes to be a major reason why we were able to rally back from a 12-point deficit to eke out the win, 89-85. Double-digit point totals from David Davis and Luke Scott from the bench were also huge, especially the latter's 14 points. It was not a win we deserved to get, but I'll take it anyway. Marcus Millford ended the game with 4 points, his worst showing of the season. The Flames did well to contain him as successfully as they did.

Our next game was the most difficult test of the year by far. We went up against the #23 Ohio State Buckeyes. Naturally my line of thought was that we would get blown out of the water, much like we did against Colorado, the only truly good team we'd beaten.

It turned out to be no contest. We fed off the home crowd's frenzy and jumped out to a 42-23 halftime lead. Chris Seabrooks had 12 points by the half alone and Mario Robinson proved equally a beast in the first 20 with 10 points and 7 rebounds.

79-50 was the final score and we had our first Top 25 upset in my coaching career in my first season. The team poured the Gatorade bucket on me and gave me a tour of the court while the fans gave us a standing ovation and screamed out, "RED FOXES RED FOXES CLAW CLAW CLAW!!!" Afterwards we discovered it was a cheer originated from the student section, completely new to the Marist chanting lexicon.

And just like that, we had a theme for the season. This was the Year of the Claw.

Seabrooks and Robinson continued their mastery of the Buckeyes in the second half, finishing up 17 and 6 and a double-double of 18 and 10 respectively. Although Robinson is maddeningly inconsistent, when he's on, nobody on the court can stop him. Seabrooks, in contrast, has quickly become the most consistent performer we have next to Millford.

The MAAC conference portion of the year officially began with our last game in December on the road against the 6-3 Siena Saints. This was a team that worried me, as they played exceptional defense and looked to be a good matchup against our high-powered, freestyle offense.

They limited our lead to 3 points by halftime, but then we broke them open in the second half and won 78-69. Marcus Millford, Chris Seabrooks and Shyrone Grays all shared the scoring load with 13 points to a man and Luke Scott and Antone Fisher rose from the bench to add 10 and 12 points a piece. The Saints focused their game plan on shutting down our powerful frontcourt and dared our backcourt to beat them, which it did. That being said, I have to admit they did a sensational job of locking down our frontcourt guys. James Eddins recorded a fat 0 in the points category and Mario Robinson was held to just 4 points.

It turned out we had one last game scheduled before the New Year, at home against St. Peter's. We crushed the Pea****s 95-55 in our most dazzling team performance of the year. Marcus Millford got back into the scoring swing with 17 points to go with his 6 assists. Shyrone Greys added 16. Antone Fisher added 10 from the bench. But the most powerful presence on the court was none other than Mario Robinson who ripped apart the Pea****s for an incredible 24 points and 13 rebounds.

It was a beautiful way to end the year, and as we step into 2006, I can't help but smile. Here I have a team picked to finish near the bottom of the MAAC turning heads across the country with its 10-1 record (2-0 in conference for those who care). On any given night, four of our five starters can have a breakout game that the opposition won't be able to stop and we can usually count on at least one of the reserves stepping up with a good game.

That's not to say there aren't concerns of course. I still don't feel that we've been really challenged all that much. Yes, we played Ohio State and beat them, but the Buckeyes were clearly overconfident, because they were terribly sloppy with the ball and with their shooting. When we run up against another really good team that stays disciplined, like Colorado, we'll be toast.

There's also worry about the future. Although James Eddins may not look like one of our stars from the statline, he's our second-leading rebounder right now, with just over 7 per game. Even more importantly, having a big 7 foot 313 pound guy at power forward creates major matchup and gameplan problems for opposing coaches and he really opens things up for the rest of the team because of that. Tyrone Benton his probable replacement next season, is 6'9" and 254, pretty fair-sized for a power forward, but nowhere near what Eddins gives us. Nor has he looked all that impressive when he's out there.

The recruiting trail likewise is proving troublesome. I thus far have been unable to get the point guard I've located that I want on our team to commit. He keeps us at #4 on his list of schools and he won't move us any higher. If worst comes to worst, I'll turn to the ballhandling and passing wizard with no concept of defense. Every day he waits by the phone, hoping he'll get the call saying he's been offered a scholarship by us.

That may be what I'll do.

But for now, let me forget all the stress and worry. Let me enjoy our sterling record and our brilliant achievements thus far in the Year of the Claw.