Bronco4ever
01-11-2009, 02:49 AM
ABERDEEN, S.D. -- Don Meyer tried to treat this game like any other game, because he has always believed that coaching basketball is about process and not product. Meyer, the coach for Northern State University, sat quietly 25 minutes before tip-off, stone-faced, and then imploring his players in the same way he has for 37 seasons, telling them to play like they had practiced.
But this could not have been like any other game, because Meyer began the day with 902 career victories, tied with Bob Knight for the most in NCAA men's basketball history. This could not have been like any other game, because Meyer, on the verge of the record, coaches from a wheelchair, much of his left leg amputated in the aftermath of a devastating automobile collision Sept. 5. This could not have been like any other game, because now Meyer knows that he has cancer, discovered as he was being treated in the hours after his accident.
This could not have been like any other game, because after Northern State beat the University of Mary, 86-71, for the 903rd victory of Meyer's career, the face of John Wooden appeared on the video screen inside the Barnett Center, with a taped message. "Congratulations, Don," Wooden said. "I don't know how you did it, but you did it."
Meyer smiled, and chuckled. This was not like any other game. "You think back to all the coaches you worked with," Meyer said later, "and all the players you've coached, the teams. And we've had some great teams."
He's won at Northern State, and before that, at David Lipscomb University and at Hamline, his coaching career beginning in 1972. "I'm a small college coach," he said. "That means that when you're on the road in hotels, you take the soap. ...You take it one day at a time, and if you lose sight of that, then you're in trouble."
Most Northern State students won't return from winter break until Jan. 14, and snow fell steadily outside the Barnett Center. Rows and sections of seats might normally be empty on a night like this.
But two hours before the game, as Northern State's women tipped off, almost all of the 6,664 who would arrive were already here, the smell of popcorn wafting throughout the gym. Meyer sat in a wheelchair near the court, waiting to do a live interview with a local station, and fans kept walking over to congratulate him, to shake his right hand.
On his left hand, on the ring finger, Meyer wore his wedding ring, newly repaired. The ring had been cut off on Sept. 5, the day he fell asleep at the wheel and drifted across Highway 20, into the path of a semi hauling 90,000 pounds of grain. Meyer survived the head-on collision, but his left leg was amputated below the left knee, and as a trauma doctor removed Meyer's spleen the night of the accident, he discovered cancer in his liver and small intestine.
After being hospitalized for 55 days, Meyer was back at work the next morning, at 4:45, pushed, in his recovery, by the prospect of returning to his players -- of returning to coaching. When Northern State began its season on Nov. 18, Meyer was 11 victories shy of Bob Knight's NCAA men's mark of 902.
But players can recall only one time this season in which Meyer even referred to the impending milestone -- on Jan. 3, after the Wolves won sloppily. "Screw records," Meyer said to the players sharply. "We need to get better."
Victory No. 903 was a conversation piece in Aberdeen this week, however, and quietly, T-shirts commemorating the event were printed, plans were made. But Meyer didn't talk about it -- not with the players, or his assistant coaches, or his wife, Carmen. "I'm almost afraid to bring it up," she said, a few hours before the game.
The Northern State players had talked about the record when they lunched together, their words echoing words that they had heard from Meyer throughout this season. They talked about process over product, about the need to focus on playing the game, rather than winning. "Everyone has felt the build-up," said Kyle Schwan, one of the team's seniors. "There's no getting around it."
Meyer is still mulling over different options for treatment of the cancer that has now also been found in his abdomen. He was told, at one point, that his cancer is inoperable, but a specialist is reviewing Meyer's MRI. Meyer's life clock has always been run on basketball time, his days structured around practices and planning and program work, but friends say he is speaking more of his cancer than he did initially.
But his voice is stronger than it was when he first resumed coaching on Oct. 31, his stamina greater. His left leg which he calls Little Buddy has not healed enough for him to be fitted with a prosthetic leg, so Meyer moves with a walker, and on his way to lunch on Friday afternoon, he came face to face with a berm of snow in a restaurant parking lot. Rather than go around the pile, he moved over it steadily, pushing the legs of the walker into the snow until he had a nice solid base. You could use snowshoe, a companion mentioned to him. "All I'd need was one," he cracked, chuckling.
About 20 minutes before Saturday's game, the players gathered in the hallway outside their locker room at the Barnett Center, around Meyer. "We have to make sure we do the things we want to do," he told them. "Encourage each other."
The University of Mary didn't score in the first five minutes and 47 seconds, falling behind quickly. But they tied the game at 16, took a 21-20 lead. Meyer rolled forward in his wheelchair, in front of the Wolves' bench, and shouted at the Northern State big men to post up, to take advantage of Northern's size advantage.
With a series of backdoor cuts, Northern rebuilt a lead, and Northern State controlled the game throughout the second half. As the clock rolled down for the last minute, the crowd rose and clapped. Meyer lifted his Dictaphone, as he does throughout the course of every game, and mentioned another flaw that needed to be corrected. The game ended, confetti streaming onto the court, and he called the Wolves into a huddle in front of the bench and talked about how Northern State needs to get better. "We're not here to celebrate this record," he said. "We're here to get better as a team."
After Wooden's taped message, however, Meyer rolled toward the scorer's table and stood, leaning on his right leg, and spoke into a microphone, thanking them for their support, and asked them to continue praying for his leg to heal and his cancer to improve. "I especially want to thank this group of guys," he said, nodding toward his players, "for helping me through a really tough time."
There will be a celebration for Meyer here in Aberdeen next Saturday, and his daughters plan to fly in, as do some of his former players. He will be relieved when that is over, when the talk of a statistical standard will dissipate, when the Wolves' season will again be about process over product.
But away from the court, he takes stock day by day, wakes up thankful that he's alive. "I don't know how many days I have left, to be honest with you," he said. "None of us know."
So no, this day was not like any other for Don Meyer.
I thought it was an interesting story. I hope he can recover enough to keep on coaching.
But this could not have been like any other game, because Meyer began the day with 902 career victories, tied with Bob Knight for the most in NCAA men's basketball history. This could not have been like any other game, because Meyer, on the verge of the record, coaches from a wheelchair, much of his left leg amputated in the aftermath of a devastating automobile collision Sept. 5. This could not have been like any other game, because now Meyer knows that he has cancer, discovered as he was being treated in the hours after his accident.
This could not have been like any other game, because after Northern State beat the University of Mary, 86-71, for the 903rd victory of Meyer's career, the face of John Wooden appeared on the video screen inside the Barnett Center, with a taped message. "Congratulations, Don," Wooden said. "I don't know how you did it, but you did it."
Meyer smiled, and chuckled. This was not like any other game. "You think back to all the coaches you worked with," Meyer said later, "and all the players you've coached, the teams. And we've had some great teams."
He's won at Northern State, and before that, at David Lipscomb University and at Hamline, his coaching career beginning in 1972. "I'm a small college coach," he said. "That means that when you're on the road in hotels, you take the soap. ...You take it one day at a time, and if you lose sight of that, then you're in trouble."
Most Northern State students won't return from winter break until Jan. 14, and snow fell steadily outside the Barnett Center. Rows and sections of seats might normally be empty on a night like this.
But two hours before the game, as Northern State's women tipped off, almost all of the 6,664 who would arrive were already here, the smell of popcorn wafting throughout the gym. Meyer sat in a wheelchair near the court, waiting to do a live interview with a local station, and fans kept walking over to congratulate him, to shake his right hand.
On his left hand, on the ring finger, Meyer wore his wedding ring, newly repaired. The ring had been cut off on Sept. 5, the day he fell asleep at the wheel and drifted across Highway 20, into the path of a semi hauling 90,000 pounds of grain. Meyer survived the head-on collision, but his left leg was amputated below the left knee, and as a trauma doctor removed Meyer's spleen the night of the accident, he discovered cancer in his liver and small intestine.
After being hospitalized for 55 days, Meyer was back at work the next morning, at 4:45, pushed, in his recovery, by the prospect of returning to his players -- of returning to coaching. When Northern State began its season on Nov. 18, Meyer was 11 victories shy of Bob Knight's NCAA men's mark of 902.
But players can recall only one time this season in which Meyer even referred to the impending milestone -- on Jan. 3, after the Wolves won sloppily. "Screw records," Meyer said to the players sharply. "We need to get better."
Victory No. 903 was a conversation piece in Aberdeen this week, however, and quietly, T-shirts commemorating the event were printed, plans were made. But Meyer didn't talk about it -- not with the players, or his assistant coaches, or his wife, Carmen. "I'm almost afraid to bring it up," she said, a few hours before the game.
The Northern State players had talked about the record when they lunched together, their words echoing words that they had heard from Meyer throughout this season. They talked about process over product, about the need to focus on playing the game, rather than winning. "Everyone has felt the build-up," said Kyle Schwan, one of the team's seniors. "There's no getting around it."
Meyer is still mulling over different options for treatment of the cancer that has now also been found in his abdomen. He was told, at one point, that his cancer is inoperable, but a specialist is reviewing Meyer's MRI. Meyer's life clock has always been run on basketball time, his days structured around practices and planning and program work, but friends say he is speaking more of his cancer than he did initially.
But his voice is stronger than it was when he first resumed coaching on Oct. 31, his stamina greater. His left leg which he calls Little Buddy has not healed enough for him to be fitted with a prosthetic leg, so Meyer moves with a walker, and on his way to lunch on Friday afternoon, he came face to face with a berm of snow in a restaurant parking lot. Rather than go around the pile, he moved over it steadily, pushing the legs of the walker into the snow until he had a nice solid base. You could use snowshoe, a companion mentioned to him. "All I'd need was one," he cracked, chuckling.
About 20 minutes before Saturday's game, the players gathered in the hallway outside their locker room at the Barnett Center, around Meyer. "We have to make sure we do the things we want to do," he told them. "Encourage each other."
The University of Mary didn't score in the first five minutes and 47 seconds, falling behind quickly. But they tied the game at 16, took a 21-20 lead. Meyer rolled forward in his wheelchair, in front of the Wolves' bench, and shouted at the Northern State big men to post up, to take advantage of Northern's size advantage.
With a series of backdoor cuts, Northern rebuilt a lead, and Northern State controlled the game throughout the second half. As the clock rolled down for the last minute, the crowd rose and clapped. Meyer lifted his Dictaphone, as he does throughout the course of every game, and mentioned another flaw that needed to be corrected. The game ended, confetti streaming onto the court, and he called the Wolves into a huddle in front of the bench and talked about how Northern State needs to get better. "We're not here to celebrate this record," he said. "We're here to get better as a team."
After Wooden's taped message, however, Meyer rolled toward the scorer's table and stood, leaning on his right leg, and spoke into a microphone, thanking them for their support, and asked them to continue praying for his leg to heal and his cancer to improve. "I especially want to thank this group of guys," he said, nodding toward his players, "for helping me through a really tough time."
There will be a celebration for Meyer here in Aberdeen next Saturday, and his daughters plan to fly in, as do some of his former players. He will be relieved when that is over, when the talk of a statistical standard will dissipate, when the Wolves' season will again be about process over product.
But away from the court, he takes stock day by day, wakes up thankful that he's alive. "I don't know how many days I have left, to be honest with you," he said. "None of us know."
So no, this day was not like any other for Don Meyer.
I thought it was an interesting story. I hope he can recover enough to keep on coaching.