Last Thursday evening, I arrived back in the office fresh from a good four-mile run on a hot and humid day to be greeted by shocking news. Not long after he went for a run of his own, Wake Forest head coach Skip Prosser passed away earlier in the day. I was simply speechless. There were no words to describe what I was thinking other than pure shock.
I never knew Skip Prosser, and only once covered a game that a team of his played. It was one of the Demon Deacons’ final games in their disappointing 2005-06 season, when they finished last in the ACC. So there’s not much for me to remember personally about the man, certainly not the way a few other national writers have. Reading the stories I have in the last week by writers I respect a great deal, it’s clear that luck was not with me in that respect. So many in the coaching profession and the media spoke glowingly of the man, and it seems for good reason.
The cause of death is not known, but as is often the case, something like this leads to a perspective check. The timing of it makes that the case even more so than it would all by itself.
Prosser’s death came during the month of July, the craziest month of the year for college coaches. Most spend all but a few days of the month living out of a suitcase, going from one event to another as the nation’s top high school prospects constantly battle it out. Prosser was back on campus after first being in Las Vegas, then taking a red-eye to Orlando for a day. This comes on the heels of ESPN.com’s Andy Katz reporting that Western Michigan head coach Steve Hawkins had an important contributor to the seizure he had recently: he constantly burns the midnight oil.
We already know that athletics is a fiercely competitive field; that doesn’t have to be established. Many of the best at what they do are constantly trying to out-work the competition in some way. That’s also true for those of us in the media. We’re all trying to out-work the competition, whether for recruits, a victory, or to break a big story. When it comes to recruiting, coaches have been made to feel like they can’t afford to miss something, especially when players commit to a school and cite how that school’s coach recruited him “harder and longer” than anyone else did. Even now, many coaches talk about having to “babysit” players who have committed to them – they can’t stop watching the player’s games just because he committed, as he could de-commit and go for someone who recruited him “more” or “harder”. And when stories like those of Skip Prosser and Steve Hawkins come to light, it’s easy to wonder if sometimes the hot pursuit is worth it all in the grand scheme of things. After all, a person can get another job, but not another life.
That’s not to say none of us should work hard. Besides, in theory at least, coaches love what they do and we in the media love what we do, so that’s not a concern. For many of us in the business, this is a job in name only, because it doesn’t feel like “work” to us, but it’s also one like many in America today in that we work more hours than ever and almost seem like we’re married to our jobs. Oftentimes, we’re at times made to feel like that is the only way to go. At many AAU tournaments, a typical day starts around 8 or 9 in the morning and runs until about midnight. Since coaches and media don’t often get much chance to leave the gym, eating is sometimes done at odd hours of the day save for concessions or in a hospitality suite.
Coaches have numerous responsibilities, going well beyond teaching the game and working the X’s and O’s in the locker room. There is recruiting, scheduling, camps (which Prosser was back on the Wake Forest campus for), helping players with off-court matters, alumni, and more. During the season, it’s a very consuming job, but it doesn’t end there. With the business being even more cut-throat now, along with many jobs changing hands every year, it’s not enough to call it a “demanding” job. “All-encompassing” is more like it.
As shared recently, I covered over 100 college games this past season. That wasn’t all, as I probably covered over 30 high school games, and then from the Final Four weekend through the middle of July, it was non-stop action with high school travel teams. Indeed, the downtime was limited, and off-days such as the only one I had during an 11-day stretch covering conference tournaments in March were precious (and yet that day still saw me fly from Tulsa to Chicago, so it wasn’t a completely free day). I have no intention of slowing down next college season as well, although a few coaches tell me to take a break every now and then. They say it with a smile, knowing that doing so isn’t in my nature, but as they know the demands of coaching, it’s clear that they say it with genuine concern. Although covering the game isn’t the same as coaching it, it’s still very demanding work nonetheless. At a time like this, though, the natural question arises: just how important is this in the grand scheme of things?
That’s also one reason I am content with the fact that I take it easy, relatively speaking, in July. After the first two weekends, I am done for the month. It surprises colleagues and coaches who see me around constantly, but there is a need for a few sane months out of the year. This is that time. It’s also a large part of why I gave up playing competitive baseball two years ago. I love the game and had a good season in what would prove to be my final one, but when I found myself burning the midnight oil 11 months out of the year, something had to give.
This perspective also comes in because those who have written about Prosser remember the non-basketball things about the man. They’re quick to mention that he was a teacher, first and foremost, and really believed that. They share stories of how well-read he was. They share stories of how he was a regular guy with everyone he knew. In short, they share stories of how he was a wonderful human being.
One thing that happened this past month that is definitely a plus is that the NCAA, which sanctions all July events at which coaches can be present, made restrictions on scheduling. Specifically, no games can start before 8 A.M., and none can start after 10 P.M. local time. That meant the schedules were more sane for this month, and it was a welcome change. One can only hope that it’s the start of a trend, which is possible considering there has been talk of changing the recruiting landscape in terms of “live” and “dead” periods.
It’s been over a week since I first came across the shocking news, and the shock still hasn’t worn off. My thoughts and prayers are with the family and friends of Skip Prosser.
