RU Grad.. Father.. Husband..Former Berkeley..MSU..Kean Hoop Coach. Made a difference, built a program. Knights FAM #-My boys got me...BELIEVE, PREPARE, SUCCEED.
Ben McCollum won 4 national titles at Northwest Missouri State.
His biggest lesson came before any of them.
Day one, first practice, he walks in and thinks:
"This is what first place feels like."
Not on the scoreboard. In the room.
First-place people work hard — but it's more than that. There's an edge.
And there's energy.
The guys who didn't make it weren't bad kids. They were just moody. Flat. They took life out of the building.
Culture isn't built by talent.
It's built by people who bring work, edge, and energy every day.
First-place people don't just perform.
They raise the room.
@scottabittner@sixers Been that way for years. That and defense is how we lose every year. And Embid has got to go. Should’ve traded him when he was worth something. His + - was horrible.
The ability to catch and stick! Shoulders square, feet pointing to the target, ball immediately in the shooting pocket high and let it fly! Trainers should have no dribbling sessions, get open without the ball and shoot without putting ball on the floor!@TNTSportsUS
Only 22 high major seniors spent all four seasons at one school last year. Loyalty is hard to come by no matter who the player is in college basketball.
Pretty cool Jamichael Davis will graduate from Rutgers during the craziest time in our sport next year.
Dan Hurley on the two personas every head coach must master:
The Jockey 🏇, and the Corner Man. 🥊
In practice — you are the jockey. You push. You challenge. You demand more than they think they have. You stretch them past comfort so execution becomes inevitable.
On game night — you become the corner man. You steady. You simplify. You remind them who they are. Confidence replaces correction.
Preparation is where you build them.
Performance is where you believe in them.
At High Point, Flynn Clayman runs his staff differently.
Instead of assistants doing a little bit of everything, he assigns coordinators:
One owns offense.
One owns defense.
One owns special teams.
Not traditional. But intentional.
Because when everyone is responsible for everything… no one truly grows.
Clayman learned this from his mentors. When he was trusted to run the offense, it accelerated his development. So now, he does the same for his staff.
Yes, you give up some control.
But you gain clarity, ownership, and better coaching.
Assistants aren’t just helping anymore.
They’re leading.
And when coaches grow, the team grows.
Build a staff where people can specialize, own their role, and thrive, not just survive.
Are you asking your people to do everything… or putting them in positions to be great at something?
Dear Cayden Boozer,
At some point it will hit you that the job you did for @DukeMBB this season was one of improvement, resilience and a growing confidence. The connection and impact you have with your Brother and teammates is what defines you. Not one play. Keep getting better!
Ben McCollum on Bennett Stirtz:
“It was 4 years of work and being coached by me and earning his way to the NBA. He’ll play in the NBA. How ridiculous is that story? He was at Liberty High School and nobody wanted him, and now he’s gonna work his way into the NBA. It’s been fun.”
I remember getting into a slight verbal altercation w/ one of my coaches when I was a freshman in HS. I was disrespectful & out of line. I was benched for 2 games & had to do somethings to get back into the rotation. My mother didn’t come to my defense once. She let me figure it out & learn from it. That doesn’t happen anymore.
Coach John Calipari is absolutely spot on here.
Why would a coach recruit and develop an American high school kid for 4 years when the system now rewards grabbing ready-made pros from overseas, the G League, or the NBA pipeline?
If we don’t fix this, we’re killing the entire purpose of college sports.
2016 😭😭 This was one of the hardest years of my life but also one of the most eye opening. It started with a phone call where I found out my mom was diagnosed with skin cancer. She thought there was no way she would make it through. I told her everything would be okay and we would be okay.
With all the medical bills piling up and money being tight, I decided to launch my own brand- my very first business: WAGE- (We’re All Gonna Eat). I think at the time I wasn’t even thinking of it as a business. It was a cool slogan that people wanted to be a part of. It meant having your people’s back and succeeding together. It was a community. I just wanted to create something so my mom wouldn’t feel the pressure of having to support me while she had her own stuff she had to deal with. I created the tees on some terrible graphic design website called like rushordertees 🤣 got the shirts in bulk and drove around my hometown with a million t-shirts in my back seat just selling them one by one for cash 🤣
Fast forward to now- my mom is in good health 🙏 I’m onto business attempt #3 with @GBGoBeyond and it has that same feeling as when I first created WAGE. It’s a true community of hoopers. Everyone supporting and encouraging each other in their basketball journeys.
I’ve never asked my mom for a dollar since that phone call. Anyway, moral of the story- sometimes it takes hard situations to create something positive. I probably never start WAGE and realize my passion as an entrepreneur and my passion to create positivity within a community if it weren’t for the hard year of 2016. Chase your dreams and embrace adversity 🤞
Keep on ignoring those non-D1 coaches thinking you’re going D1 next season and you’ll be offered by:
Reality Check College
Shoulda Listened State
Netflix A&M
Transfer Portal Prep
Too Good Tech
And of course, the perennial powerhouse in the D1 or Bust world..
DaCrib University
"My name's Raymond. I'm 73. I work the parking lot at St. Joseph's Hospital. Minimum wage, orange vest, a whistle I barely use. Most people don't even look at me. I'm just the old man waving cars into spaces.
But I see everything.
Like the black sedan that circled the lot every morning at 6 a.m. for three weeks. Young man driving, grandmother in the passenger seat. Chemotherapy, I figured. He'd drop her at the entrance, then spend 20 minutes hunting for parking, missing her appointments.
One morning, I stopped him. "What time tomorrow?"
"6:15," he said, confused.
"Space A-7 will be empty. I'll save it."
He blinked. "You... you can do that?"
"I can now," I said.
Next morning, I stood in A-7, holding my ground as cars circled angrily. When his sedan pulled up, I moved. He rolled down his window, speechless. "Why?"
"Because she needs you in there with her," I said. "Not out here stressing."
He cried. Right there in the parking lot.
Word spread quietly. A father with a sick baby asked if I could help. A woman visiting her dying husband. I started arriving at 5 a.m., notebook in hand, tracking who needed what. Saved spots became sacred. People stopped honking. They waited. Because they knew someone else was fighting something bigger than traffic.
But here's what changed everything, A businessman in a Mercedes screamed at me one morning. "I'm not sick! I need that spot for a meeting!"
"Then walk," I said calmly. "That space is for someone whose hands are shaking too hard to grip a steering wheel."
He sped off, furious. But a woman behind him got out of her car and hugged me. "My son has leukemia," she sobbed. "Thank you for seeing us."
The hospital tried to stop me. "Liability issues," they said. But then families started writing letters. Dozens. "Raymond made the worst days bearable." "He gave us one less thing to break over."
Last month, they made it official. "Reserved Parking for Families in Crisis." Ten spots, marked with blue signs. And they asked me to manage it.
But the best part? A man I'd helped two years ago, his mother survived, came back. He's a carpenter. Built a small wooden box, mounted it by the reserved spaces. Inside? Prayer cards, tissues, breath mints, and a note,
"Take what you need. You're not alone. -Raymond & Friends"
People leave things now. Granola bars. Phone chargers. Yesterday, someone left a hand-knitted blanket.
I'm 73. I direct traffic in a hospital parking lot. But I've learned this: Healing doesn't just happen in operating rooms. Sometimes it starts in a parking space. When someone says, "I see your crisis. Let me carry this one small piece."
So pay attention. At the grocery checkout, the coffee line, wherever you are. Someone's drowning in the little things while fighting the big ones.
Hold a door. Save a spot. Carry the weight no one else sees.
It's not glamorous. But it's everything."
Let this story reach more hearts....
Credit: Mary Nelson
Maybe due to my years of being a traditionalist I have a problem with situations where a player in college is at a new school every year - 4 years 4 different schools - how in the world is that what college should be about ? Bluntly it is ABSURD!