The Addiction That Drove Me

By Henry Bibby and Douglas T. Branch

Henry Bibby has been a winner his entire life. From three consecutive NCAA men's championships as the point guard for legendary Coach John Wooden's UCLA Bruins, to a contributor off the bench for Red Holzman's 1973 world championship New York Knicks, and winning a CBA title in 1989, while also leading the USC Trojans to the Elite Eight in 2001 as a head coach.

However, the impetus for writing this book was not to list his myriad accomplishments in basketball that spans over a half century but to pay homage to the people who helped on his sojourn-family, coaches, teammates, and teachers.

He hopes to enlighten the next generation of basketball coaches to avoid some of the pitfalls he experienced. With the coauthor, Douglas T. Branch, who came aboard on the recommendation of Hall of Fame National Basketball columnist Peter Vecsey, the pair conducted hours of interviews.

Henry cultivated a tireless work ethic growing up on the family's modest farm in rural North Carolina and needed it, as he traversed the globe after his playing days. Coaching at basketball outposts abroad, such as Pico, Puerto Rico; Venezuela; Winnipeg; and most of the lower forty-eight, from Oklahoma City to Savannah, Georgia. He persevered partly for the love of the game and necessity.

Finally, he had a modicum of security at USC for parts of nine seasons, then the WNBA's Los Angeles Sparks, and as an assistant coach for three NBA teams (Philadelphia, Memphis, and Detroit).

His desire to still coach never wanes.

Anyone who is a fan of the rich history of basketball will be interested to hear his thoughts on basketball, past and present, and the broaching of subjects from family to religion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Nov 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781645449720

Book preview

cover.jpg

The Addiction That Drove Me

Henry Bibby and Douglas T. Branch

Copyright © 2020 Henry Bibby & Douglas T. Branch

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2020

ISBN 978-1-64544-971-3 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-64544-973-7 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-64544-972-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Contents

My Mission Statement

The goal of this book told through the prism of my experiences.

Growing Up Black in the South

Raised on a farm in the segregated South and how I learned a rock-solid work ethic in the tobacco country.

UCLA and the Hill Family

Go west, young man, and stay with a Jewish family

The Coaches

Wooden, Red, and Shue.

Hop Aboard the Coaching Carousel

The transient business of the coaching profession.

The Minor Leagues Part 1: Purgatory

My personal odyssey of coaching from sea to shining sea.

The Minor Leagues Part 2: Coaching the Misfits

If you washed out of the NBA in the nineties, chances are I coached you in the CBA.

How Religion was My Savior

When God dumped my Bible into the ocean.

Arizona State Daze

Cheating scandal costs me dearly.

USC Days and the Elite Eight

My nine years coaching the Trojans, and the pinnacle in the 2001 season.

Basketball Jones

And the addiction that drove me.

How to Become a Successful Coach

Avoiding the pitfalls.

The Media

Coping with the fourth estate.

It’s There in Black and White, Good Night

Does racism exist in the NBA? Final thoughts.

Foreword by Hall of Fame Basketball Columnist of The New York Post, and former analyst for TBS/TNT, NBC, and NBA TV, Peter Vecsey.

Henry Bibby was in his third pro season in New York when I was shifted from covering the ABA Nets to being the NBA Knicks’ beat writer for the New York Daily News. It was unquestionably a coveted promotion, but my heart hemorrhaged red, white and blue, having monitored the Nets since they relocated from Teaneck, New Jersey to Long Island in the late ’60s.

Before I showed up at Madison Square Garden, the Knicks had won the 1973 championship, their second in franchise history, still. The year I left the Nets, ’73–74, they won their first title of two, still. Joe O’Day, the guy I’d swapped assignments with, loved telling me to think about what that implies.

I do, to this day.

Coming late to the parties and parades made my job that much more problematic. Willis Reed, Walt Frazier, Dave DeBusschere, Bill Bradley, Phil Jackson, Jerry Lucas and Earl Monroe were graciously accessible and eminently quotable, but almost never gave up the kind of juicy goods I was constantly on the prowl to harvest. Moreover, unless you reported according to coach Red Holzman’s rigid ‘off the record’ rule, a game I declined to play, he gave me less info than name, rank, serial number and date of birth.

Bibby, on the other hand would tell the truth, if not the whole truth and nothing but the truth, if I caught him alone after games or at a restaurant during a road trip. He wasn’t humble by any stretch, but for someone who’d won three NCAA crowns as a starter for UCLA and fingered a ring his rookie year as a Knicks’ irregular, he was plausibly unaffected.

For what it’s worthless, let it be known Bibby was always the first Knick off the plane on road trips—battling Bradley for inside position—another one of those intangibles that don’t show up in the boxscore. And there he’d be, as we made our way to the baggage claim, stationed at a bank of phones, one to his ear, yapping excitedly.

Ask her if she has a sister or a girl friend, I nearly yelled out numerous times.

Forty-nine games into the Knicks’ unexceptional season (26–23), they played the Houston Rockets (24–25) at the Garden. It was Feb. 1, 1975, a Saturday. The Knicks led at the half, 50–47. During intermission, I learned Bibby had been traded (along with a ’75 first round pick; Bill Robinzine, by the Kings who acquired the slot for Ron Behagen) to New Orleans for Neal Walk and Jim Barnett.

I knew where the wives sat. I immediately informed Virginia Bibby her husband had been dealt to the tuneless Jazz, 5–42 at the time. She, of course, notified him before the second half got underway. Those in the know could see Bibby was emotionally flogged when Holzman inserted him. He was forced to bench the guard after a few mindless minutes of the third quadrant, and never again seen in Knicks’ hometown whites. The Rockets won, 95–93. with Bibby scoring six first half points.

As ill fate would orchestrate, the Knicks’ next opponent was the Jazz. After the loss, they chartered to New Orleans, with Bibby on board. Teammates were clearly upset, none more than Holzman. At one point, he berated me, claiming I’d screwed up Hank’s head and cost the Knicks the game.

There was worse to come. NOLA beat the Knicks, 118–114, its sixth success for the third coach (Butch van Breda Kolff) that season. Barnett (15 points) and Walk (four) couldn’t prevent the Knicks from dropping to 26–25. After liquidating the Lakers in New York a couple nights later, Holzman’s hobos surrendered five straight.

Bibby, meanwhile, converted four blood shots in ten attempts (no trifectas in the NBA in ’75), and 5–6 from the welfare line for 13 points in 17 minutes. Revenge was best served steamed.

My Mission Statement

This book is my effort to help people grow and reach their full potential not just in the sport of basketball but in the daily walk of life.

I want to offer the reader some free career advice. Hopefully that will enhance them spiritually, socially, emotionally, and financially too.

I want the reader to avoid some of the land mines I stepped on.

Additionally, I want to give the aspiring coach a glimpse into the coaching life—the successes and the hardships of sports—as seen through my personal prism.

For me the basketball experience was both thrilling and painful. As a player, I was following a sports career and pursuing my dream. As a coach, I was (initially) eking out a living and confined to a nomadic existence.

Naturally, the highlight as a player was winning multiple NCAA championships and an NBA title. The lowlight as a coach in 2016.

But initially I was on a natural high because Sacramento Kings GM Vlade Divac asked me to interview for the team’s vacant head coaching position. That doesn’t happen every day, and those jobs just don’t fall from the trees.

Five minutes from my most important pitch, the interview was called off.

You talk about being at both ends of the emotional spectrum in the same day. But that’s life, isn’t it? One of the best days of my life suddenly became my worst. Go figure.

What do you do after such a devastating event? I hope to convey that in this book because I have experienced so much in half a century in the game.

Basketball was my life, and I had devoted every fiber of my soul to it. I never wanted to do anything else. And even at 70 years old, I still feel passionately about the game.

However, the feeling is not mutual, as my connections have dwindled, and now several years removed from coaching, my phone rarely rings. Even my guys have disappeared.

(Sometimes to amuse myself, I make calls around the leagues and colleges, just to have the executives run the other way. But I’m not mad. Subtle age discrimination happens all the time. I guess now, it’s my turn.)

I feel like I still have a lot to offer.

Nevertheless, my main focus is to help you become successful. To nourish the up-and-coming coach with morsels of wisdom. To help carve out a plan and stick to it.

And here is the most important tidbit out of the gate: It’s not what you know but who you know. Could it be that simple?

Could it be simply about knowing someone that knows someone, that knows someone who can say Take him. Do me a favor!

One of the mistakes I can convey is not hobnobbing with the decision makers and not schmoozing over cigars and drinks—a way of getting your name and face out there.

The quest to become a professional basketball coach begins with the commitment; this is the only thing I want to do in life, to be a damn coach.

Of course, the rewards—spiritually and financially—come with time, tenfold.

For instance, when I coached at USC, I found it übergratifying to work with young men who were like sponges. You get to share your knowledge firsthand with people embarking on life’s journey (and the paychecks back then were not too shabby).

Sometimes the players would sit transfixed on my every word. And often they would drop in the office just to be in my company.

That made me feel important. I was a father figure to my players. I felt their joy and pain. My focus was giving them every ounce of effort I could to help them get to their personal promised land.

I could see the passion in their eyes. I remember being that hungry, too, once. I could relate because I had been there, done that, and been back.

Basically, the job of a coach transcends x’s and o’s. It’s so much more. Anytime a person is entrusted with the welfare of young people, it’s serious work.

I sincerely felt that way. In these pages, I hope to convey some ways to ascend through the coaching profession.

For instance, it’s often said that some of the biggest business deals are consummated on the golf course. Keep the clubs in the trunk. If you don’t chase that little, white ball, find out where you can get some face time with the power brokers.

One such place is at the NCAA Final Four. There are a plethora of coaches—I mean tons and tons—who stand in the lobby in a meet and greet format with other coaches.

It’s tantamount to being at a nightclub for coaches held during daylight (well, it sometimes spills in the hotel bar in the evening). Get there.

In addition, come armed with a boxful of business cards. Hand out a thousand until the paper cuts bleed.

In sales there is strength in numbers, and the commodity you are hawking is the most important one in the world. You!

Nevertheless, it is imperative to have a plan for personal growth. I can’t emphasize that enough.

Unfortunately, working hard is not a guarantee that you will achieve all your goals in your time frame. (I had a player once tell me, Coach, I have a friend that worked hard every day of his life and still didn’t make it. I confessed that hard work only gives you a fifty-fifty chance.)

I hate to sound like a cynic, but I studied this curriculum as a postgraduate at the University of Hard Knocks. When rival coaches solicited my coaching acumen, it buoyed my belief that I had a firm grip on the game.

Wrong. Maybe I was naive to think all you had to know was the x’s and o’s and you were In Like Flint. This book will elucidate on why that is bunk.

Furthermore, I firmly believe that I am a hard worker and always have been; it’s an ethos instilled by my mom and dad. Whether I was hoisting up a million jump shots in the backyard under the broiling North Carolina sun or working in the fields at dawn before school, my parents’ work ethic had a profound effect on me.

Unfortunately, I grew up with a false sense of security that all one had to do to succeed in life was to outwork the other guy. Wrong.

However, in retrospect, it wasn’t enough. There is always a tinge of kismet involved in life. Sometimes you slam into a wall of unfortunate circumstances.

In other words, the stars don’t always align to your liking. The trick is to be resilient and stay the course. Be positive and speak positive.

Say what you want, and stand on your word with faith. Speak it, say it, believe it, and do it.

I believe wholeheartedly that I never reached my (optimum) potential because I never had a plan. I kind of meandered from coaching job to coaching job, taking the crumbs being offered to pay the next bill.

My growth as a coach came from introspection and culled from all my former coaches who impacted my life. From Red Holzman to Gene Shue, and of course, the greatest of them all, John Wooden.

But make no mistake, the impact my first family had was incalculable. From my parents to my brothers, they were my core and helped build my foundation.

Question: What is my potential growth? The answer: Only the individual can determine that.

My hope for anyone who reads this is knowing the importance of concocting a plan, as I have stated. Like when you met your high school guidance counselor and mapped out the foreseeable future.

In this day and age, there are life coaches for hire. That may work for you. Or pay a firm if you can afford to have a pro guide you.

This is the age of information. Research on the Internet, browse a bookstore, and hit the library. The answers are within reach, so there’s no excuse for not getting it done.

Regardless of level, a coach in the profession is a valuable resource. Maybe he or she can help you avoid mistakes (but you will make them; it’s part of the process). Personally, I confess that I made mistakes. Some could be attributed to a large chip on my shoulder, which was detrimental to my overall growth as a person and coach.

Why did I harbor resentment? Because I saw my friends move up the ladder while I was mired in the minors (see ensuing chapters). That bitterness stunted my growth, but retrospection is always viewed with twenty-twenty vision.

I took the road less traveled. But the silver lining was that I learned the inside of the game with my unique journey.

Don’t be your worst enemy. Be flexible. And it doesn’t hurt to be personable, aggressive, and an attentive listener.

Learn your craft: The ins and outs of basketball. Keep your ear to the ground, and know everything about your team both on and off the court.

However, listening is a lost art today. When you can share some quality time with the experienced, it’s a capital idea to open your ears and close your mouth.

You can gain something from all the people you come in contact with. From middle school coaches to the pros, I’ve learned something from them all (see the Coaches chapter).

Absorb like the aforementioned sponge, and ask salient questions with abject passion. Your thirst for knowledge should be unquenchable.

To be a successful motivator of people is a skill not easily acquired. It’s the rare bird that is a natural-born leader. The smart cookies tap the brains ensconced in the profession.

However, not everyone is a self-starter. I’m not a big believer in having to motivate a player or person. Either you have heart, or you don’t.

Motivation is an individual’s responsibility, in my opinion. That doesn’t mean I didn’t administer a kick in the butt on the occasion it was warranted.

Do you know what separates the superstar from the pedestrian player? Besides innate talent, it’s the work they put in when nobody’s watching.

Former Georgetown coach John Thompson often said he knew it was summertime because his former star player Patrick Ewing would be alone in the school’s hot gym working on his game.

As sweat pooled around him, the big fella worked on the jump step move that would earn him millions and notoriety. He was talented, but he worked his butt off too.

But wait. Didn’t I proclaim that a person can’t only rely on outworking the competition? Yes, a person needs breaks, but a player with a fire in his belly is a dangerous animal.

All the great ones—Magic, Bird, and Jordan—all wanted it more and were willing to put in the effort to get to the next level. They were disciplined and committed to their goals.

For us mere mortals who are no longer relying on the physical, the key is to gather information. Get out the power tools and start building a cabinet that a President might utilize similar to one the president of the United States employs.

Bring in a secretary of defense and any other strategic planner who can help you along. If you are savvy enough to intently listen to the experts in the field, then your foundation will be rock-solid.

Moreover, always make informed decisions.

Take a page from their book. Go to coaching conferences, and listen to the musings of the coaches who have been in the trenches.

It could be Bobby Knight, Rick Pitino, or Mike Krzyzewski at the podium giving the keynote address. Once upon a time, they were in audience too.

All coaches have this in