© Tim Peeler,
2018
NOTE: If you enjoy reading "One Brick Back" and would like to help offset research expenses for stories such as this, please make a small donation to the cause and help keep these posts free of ads.
NOTE: If you enjoy reading "One Brick Back" and would like to help offset research expenses for stories such as this, please make a small donation to the cause and help keep these posts free of ads.
Jim Valvano was mad, and he let his players know it.
The 1987-88
version of the Wolfpack had just sleepwalked through a 95-76 loss in a one-day layover
in California, giving up a triple-double to UC-Santa Barbara future NBA star
Brian Shaw (22 points, 20 rebounds and 10 assists).
“It was a real
beat-down, and V was pissed,” said
Chucky Brown, who was in his junior season. “We just wanted to get to Hawaii
and eat some pineapple.”
When the team got
to Honolulu on Christmas Eve for the 24th-annual Rainbow Classic, the coach set some pretty stringent ground rules for the Pack’s five-day stay on the
island.
“Stay off the goddamned beach,” he said. “The last thing I need is
for you all to get sunburned.”
Brown, the late Charles Shackleford, Brian Howard, Avie Lester and
the other black members of the team laughed to themselves. Then they looked
over at freshman Chris Corchiani, senior Vinny Del Negro and junior Brian D’Amico,
the team’s only white players.
“He’s talking to y’all, not to us,” Brown said. “How’s he going to
know if we get sunburned?”
“And another thing,” Valvano told them, “Under no circumstances
will you take a moped tour around the island. Those things are dangerous.”
So of course, in the free time before
the opening game, the players all got sunburned when they took a moped ride on
the beach. This was not a team that was bounded by many rules, and those they
had were seldom obeyed.
Valvano may have been grouchy with his
players, but he was the highlight of the pretournament banquet, in which he
blew through his allotted three minutes and talked for more than 15.
He took great pleasure in introducing
Atushi Fujita, chairman of Tokyo’s annual Phenix Ball tournament, who was
looking for teams to participate the following year.
“Stand up, Mr. Fujita,” Valvano said. “Mr.
Fujita, folks, doesn’t speak English. He thinks I’m Dean Smith, and he’s going
to invite me to Japan. Please don’t tell him the truth. From now on, I’ve told
all my player to answer to the name J.R. [Reid.]”
The Pack’s first game didn’t take much of the surliness out of the
coach with his players. The Wolfpack won handily, 86-55, over Creighton, but
Shackleford was held out of the starting lineup for the first time in his
three-year career for disciplinary reasons. It’s hard to remember three decades
later, but it was either for being late for a team meeting or for taking all of
Corchiani’s meal money in a late-night, dealt-from-the-bottom poker game.
“I couldn’t figure out why I kept losing,” Corchiani said.
While it was a nice, if uninspired, bounce back from the UCSB
loss, Valvano knew what his team had been up to.
“I see a lot of red faces,” he said. “A lot of red faces. What did
I tell you about going to the beach?”
The next day, the Wolfpack played poorly in the first half of its
semifinal game against Louisville, though it only trailed 40-36 at the half.
Shackleford was mostly the target of Valvano’s passionate, profanity-laced
halftime lecture. He stormed out the door on a high note, hoping his duly-motivated
team would follow.
But they all sat still.
Valvano was gone just long enough for team doctor Jim Manly – a
somewhat frail, elderly local physician who had been traveling with the team
since the days of Everett Case – to move behind one of the swinging doors.
Valvano thought of one more thing he needed to say, did a
180-degree pivot in the hallway of Blaisdell Arena and burst back through the
doors like a busy Italian restaurant waiter on a Saturday night.
Manly went flying across the room. He somehow landed near the
shower, something the players saw but Valvano didn’t acknowledge in their presence.
While their coach continued his tirade about their performance
against the No. 20 Cardinals, the players were trying their best not to
snicker. The more he railed, the more they [unsuccessfully] attempted to hold
it in. The angrier he got, the funnier the situation was.
When the red-faced Valvano finally finished, he noticed team
trainer Jim Rehbock and orthopedist Don Reibel treating their fellow staff
member in the shower.
“What the hell is wrong with Doc Manly?” the coach asked.
The balloon of team tension popped, the Wolfpack went out and
blitzed Denny Crum’s Cardinals in the first seven minutes of the second half,
outscoring Louisville 18-10. Brown had 10 of his game- and career-high 25
points during that stretch.
The Pack put the game away with eight unanswered points in the
final minutes on two baskets by Shackleford, one by Brown and a baseline jumper
by Del Negro to complete the 80-75 victory.
Valvano was a tad bit looser in the post-game lockerroom.
“The second half, that’s the way we have to play,” he said.
“That’s what I want to see every minute you play. I tell you what, if I
have to knock the shit out of Doc Manly at halftime of every game to get you play that way,
then goddamn it, that’s what I’ll do.”
Later that season, Shackleford and Brown helped the Wolfpack beat Louisville again, 101-89, in Reynolds Coliseum. |
The next day, Shackleford dominated Arizona State, scoring 25
points. Brown added 18 in an easy 83-71 win. Shackleford, inspired by Valvano’s
speech and Corchiani’s meal money, earned the event’s Most Outstanding Player
award, joining players like Elvin Hayes, Pete Maravich, Phil Ford and Chris Webber.
The players and managers figured that the moped ban was good only during the
tournament, and since they had won it, they could do whatever they wanted. So
eight or nine of them celebrated their Rainbow title by making one more motorized loop around the island.
They were racing back and forth,
having a grand old time, when Corchiani took the lead, followed closely by sophomore
reserve center Lester. To assert his dominance, Corchiani swerved in front
of his teammate, catching his back wheel with Lester’s front wheel.
Lester’s moped toppled over and he bounced off the pavement multiple times before skidding to a
stop, right in front of one of the island's only payphones. His teammates called an ambulance to
take Lester to the hospital, though no one dared tell Valvano. The coach learned of
the accident when Lester, looking like an extra from a Boris Karloff mummy
movie, showed up at the team’s evening meal at Tony Roma’s Steakhouse.
“Jesus Christ, what happened?” Valvano
said, as the players began to see a red face.
“Moped accident,” Lester said.
“Jesus Christ,” Valvano said.
The coach had the reddest face
imaginable.
“You could’ve fried an egg on his
forehead,” Brown said. “We were just sitting there trying not to laugh.”
Glaring at Corchiani, Lester was
almost as angry as his coach. He had been looking forward to trying upscale restaurant's
world-famous baby back ribs, but the moped accident cheese-grated most of the fingertips off both hands. He couldn’t eat anything without the aid of a knife and fork, completely
missing the point of the finger-licking experience.
“I don’t think he’s ever really forgiven
me,” Corchiani said.
Incredibly, the adventure didn’t end
when the team left O’ahu. Shackleford celebrated his Rainbow Classic MVP
performance by falling asleep with his head in his left hand on the team’s nine-hour
flight home from Hawaii, bruising several nerves in his elbow and leaving the
left side of his body numb. Shackleford saw limited action and Lester didn't play at all in the Pack’s first
game of 1988, a 95-72 whipping of Cornell, in which Del Negro carried the team with 27 points.
“We have the only program in the
country where one center can score 58 points and have 35 rebounds in Hawaii,
then get hurt on the plane ride home,” Valvano said. “And another center who
can knock himself out on a moped.”
Both players were treated throughout
their injuries by a clear-headed, but sore-ribbed Dr. Manly.
Contact Tim Peeler at timothy.peeler@gmail.com.
Nice to hear a story with Dr. Jim Manly in it. My mom worked as his nurse for a long, long time. She loved the Wolfpack as much as he did - and, of course, my dad, my brother, and me all went to State - and I work there too!
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