A team that doesn’t like playing together. No reliable perimeter shooter. Mind-boggling lack of ability and experience at the point guard position. A propensity for going one-on-one. Questionable communication skills from an unproven coaching staff. An accumulation of injuries. A hostile environment. A group of referees uninterested in calling an unbiased game.
Throw all those factors together, and what do you get? One of the most humiliating defeats in the history of the UNC-NC State rivalry.
State went to the Nose Dome yesterday, and early on, everything appeared to be playing into the Wolfpack’s hands: an even game five minutes in, Roy Williams’s ego not allowing him to back off the man-to-man defense and go with the zone “D” that every other foe has used to frustrate the Pack, and a tempo that kept the whine-and-cheese crowd in their seats.
What happened next was difficult to fathom for even the most pessimistic NC State fan. Eighteen straight shots missed. A 34-4 run by the home team. After the tenth straight missed layup in a row, I actually stopped watching the game. I have never done that for a Wolfpack basketball game—and I was a student during the Les Robinson years, so that’s saying more than a little something.
Not only did the Pack miss 20 of 23 shots in the paint—read that again; it’s truly unbelievable—but somehow during the course of that inside attack, State was awarded a single free throw in the first half. One. At one point, UNC had eight blocked shots and only four fouls called; I’m not a historian by trade, but I would wager that no team has ever blocked twice as many shots as had fouls called for a full half. That didn’t wind up having much bearing on the final outcome, obviously, but the pure lack of equal officiating (for the record, the Heels shot 15 free throws in the opening half) was brutal, even for Chapel Hill. Of course, now that the 8-20 UNC season is far in the past (Matt Doherty is forever dead to the baby blue “faithful”), the Nose Dome is back to being a Cameron Indoor type of environment for visitors—you have to be 15 points better than the home team to play even, thanks to the referees. But you know that going in; it’s not going to change, so you’d better find another route. Wolfpack coach Sidney Lowe and his players simply aren’t good or smart enough to do so.
While that was a factor in the outcome, it was an admittedly very minor one; it played more into the frustration level than anything else. Instead, State is just a bad team that didn’t make the Tar Heels earn anything along the way.
So what has happened since the Pack’s amazing run to the ACC Tournament finals made them a popular preseason pick to finish third in the conference this year? Theories abound. The season-ending knee injury to rapidly progressing point guard Farnold Degand certainly didn’t help. The lack of a leader following the departure of Engin Atsur has played a role. The stunning lack of an ability to score outside of 10 feet has been staggering, with Atsur’s graduation also leaving a gaping hole from the perimeter. Opposing coaches have found a way to combat Lowe’s scheme, which relies primarily on exploiting individual mismatches; double-teaming on the interior with zones has forced State to slow the game down and force perimeter shots that simply won’t fall. The staff has been unable to find a way to help the returning players mesh with the newcomers, led by ACC Rookie of the Year candidate J.J. Hickson. The Pack has too many players interested only on the offensive end, leading to on-court pouting and disinterest when they don't get enough shots (this means you, Brandon Costner). The Wolfpack is allergic to iron on defense, refusing to attempt to rebound, while more than happy to clang anything and everything off the iron offensively. Injuries have cost State both Degand and promising rookie swingman Johnny Thomas for the season, while also sidelining guard Courtney Fells and reserve forward Dennis Horner for stretches of time. Lowe is trying to force-feed a confusing system to mismatched personnel, too stubborn to recognize or alter that strategy to maximize what he has to work with. Other issues abound, but that’s probably enough to cover things for now.
So where does State go from here? Well, a trip to Clemson to face the league’s third-best team means the Pack will have faced the No. 1 team in the land and the team that gave away a win over that team in overtime in their first two games of conference play. Not an ideal way to start the ACC season, but it is what it is. The reality now is that the Pack couldn’t beat UNC if it were playing in Sidney Lowe’s backyard with Chris Corchiani, David Thompson and Rodney Monroe officiating right now. But easily the worst part of the Wolfpack’s inability to compete right now is a complete lack of heart and effort. Any true NC State fan will tell you that losing is an accepted part of deciding to join Wolfpack Nation; is in fact, part of the signing agreement. But they will also tell you that embarrassing the school and the proud tradition of the program is simply unacceptable. That’s a big part of the reason why Lowe has gone from genius to the hot seat so quickly. Losing to UNC severely jeopardizes your job security in Raleigh; getting embarrassed by them in any sport will get you a visit from the athletics director and virtually ensures your bus ticket out of town (just ask Mike O’Cain and Chuck Amato).
Yet, in an effort to maintain fairness, it’s important to remember that Lowe is in his second season as a college coach, relying primarily on players recruited to a drastically different system by former coach Herb Sendek. Lowe is not as good a coach as last year’s stellar finish indicated; after all, the Wolfpack finished 5-11 in the ACC last year. However, he’s certainly not as clueless a coach as this year’s rocky start would lead you to believe, either; this is a guy roundly considered a solid, creative basketball mind by his peers.
What would I do? I would start Simon Harris, a walk-on transfer from Elon who has shown more passion in extremely limited time than Costner has shown all year. Put Gavin Grant at point guard whether he likes it or not, alongside Courtney Fells at shooting guard, provided Fells promises me he’ll shoot more than 10 times per game. Keep Hickson in the middle, but start Ben McCauley at power forward and run the half-court offense through him. Place Harris at the “three,” with instructions to fill an enforcer role and get as many fouls as he feels like in as short amount of time as suits his fancy; at the very least he’ll get his share of rebounds and hopefully do just enough elsewhere to bring some intensity to his teammates. Make Costner the sixth man if he proves he’s willing to play hard; or else put him behind Dennis Horner and even Tracy Smith in the forward rotation. Give Marques Johnson occasional minutes as a ball-handler, and play Javy “Don’t Call Me Elian” Gonzalez as little as is humanly possible. If foul trouble arises and Gonzalez is the only logical choice off the bench, pull a Gene Hackman in “Hoosiers” and say, “My team is on the floor”; playing with four is preferable to bringing in a human turnover machine who is so nervous that he’s one more miscue away from wetting his pants in the middle of a game.
In basketball, a turnaround can happen as quickly as you land a great player. But will Lowe get the time to prove that his surprisingly effective recruiting ability will eventually pay dividends? Or will a string of uninspired performances punctuated by head-scratching non-showings against conference teams and rivals send him back to the NBA as an assistant with his tail between his legs? The jury is out on Lowe’s coaching ability, but it’s now officially fair to bring his longevity at NC State into question. After Amato was exposed as a fraud, the red shoes and flashy sunglasses eventually went from marketing gimmick to a running joke, part of the getup that turned him from a dynamic coach into a snake-oil salesman. Lowe runs the risk of having his trademark red coat be considered the same—while having that hot seat he now finds himself uncomfortably perched on turn as red as that same coat.
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