The bus is a nice comfy charter. The driver decides everyone would be most comfortable driving along with his window open and the air conditioning on medium. The large glass tour windows allow ample sunshine to pour in. It wasn’t unbearable, but I was warmer than this pampered American prefers. The highway we travel is like those at home. It has plenty of lanes, but when everyone gets on, I wish there were more. This road is much like the NJ Turnpike: no matter how fast you are going, someone is always trying to pass. As we travel along, I am amazed by the rapidly modernizing skyline here. The apartment complexes are going up as fast as they can.: five, six, ten tower jobs that remind me of the ones on the Belt parkway in New York. Except, it never ends. We drive on this highway for two hours.
Our first stop is the headquarters of the sponsors of the tour. Zenith Steel. They are a diversified multibillion dollar corporation. They not only produce steel, but own hotels, car companies and other things. If I were an investing kind of guy, I would look into them. The offices were impressive. Marble tile, glass features and art dotted the lobby. I thought to myself, these guys need a few Mako Fujimura’s to complete the look. We are escorted upstairs to a large board office. The concentric circles of the maple wood desk surrounded a flower arrangement. Each spot at the inner circle had a long stem microphone. There was video equipment ready, but it went unused. The president greeted us and told us about his company. We are a traveling with Canada. The room looks full of very large men and the president looks to be in his glory. He gets pictures with everyone over 6’6”. Therefore, I do not have a solo picture with the president. As a parting gift, we are given a miniature windscreen. It is a small gesture, but it makes a big impact. As we are leaving the building, employees come out of every nook and cranny to peek at the players. Some are bold enough to use their cell phone to get a picture.
I have been planning this practice for 5 years. When I left Goldey Beacom, I was pretty sure things would work out and I would return. Man plans, God laughs. I have been reviewing practice plans the last few days from my days at Camden County College. It is funny how much I forgot about what I thought I knew. My typical routine was using six practices before something was used in a game. There is a not so subtle connection to my high school coaching days. There were six practices before the first scrimmage each season. For this trip, I would have one practice. That is an incredible task if we are to rely on a plan for success. The best would be if I simply had the best talent. It is so much easier to be a really talented poorly coached team, than the other way around.
I do not know every name yet. The first drill is a simple, straight line passing drill. The trick of it is I tell the players to ask each other’s name and wait for a response before passing them the ball. The other trick of it is they must ask the question in Chinese. Did I mention we have an interpreter with us? What good is an interpreter if I don’t use him? The phonetic is, “neen gway shing”. So there I am, in my pro coaching debut running a junior high passing drill asking grown men each other’s name in a foreign language.
Everything is difficult to the unwilling. That is today’s thought. I have a thought every day. I usually write it on the practice plan and have several copies laying around for people who might visit practice. There are no easy access to copy machines and even word processing on my, correction Joan’s, IPAD, is a challenge. So I have a 3x5 with what I need on it. I usually ask a bewildered looking player to repeat the thought of the day somewhere during practice. If they get it right, we shoot fouls, which in my mind is the same as a break. If they get it wrong we run a sprint. He got it right. Would I really make this group run disciplinary sprints? I decide to make running a heavy influence in our practice time and forgo sprints. I could have coached this practice hours and hours and hours. It seemed so natural to be in the gym. I was sad to call it a night.
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