They Call Me Coach.

“From a selfish standpoint, you’d love to see him live as long as possible, hit 100 at least,” former UCLA star Marques Johnson said. “But after spending a couple hours with him two weeks ago and seeing how he was struggling, reclined in his easy chair and nodding in and out, I felt it would be selfish on our part to want him to stay around just to hit that milestone. He was never about numbers, in life or in basketball. It was always about the quality of effort.”

I got to know John Wooden here, and he was excellent company. Wise, and kind. Character you don't much see in today's leadership. A real winner who brought out the best in his student athletes... RIP Coach Wooden.

This legal pad, my friend, must do,
To convey my remarks to you,
For I shall speak of many things,
Of players who would all be kings,
Of boys who work and boys who don't,
Of boys who will and boys who won't,
Of many things, I'm sure that you
May wonder at, but know are true.

At Washington we lost a pair,
We were quite cold, as was the air,
No one could hit and Fred was flat,
And played more like "Sir Fred of Fat."
Too many boys just want to start,
If not, they don't want any part,
And then at times some have a flair,
That makes one wonder if they care.

One forward seems to think that he
Surpasses all at comedy,
Another does not like to run,
But is involved in endless fun.
A mother thinks her son should start,
Or from the team he should depart,
From these remarks it's plain to see
It's more than simple rivalry.

One boy has drawn some other's ire,
Because he never seems to tire.
He gives his best throughout the day,
He only knows that way to play;
A starting spot some others seek,
By partial effort through the week,
They wonder why my eyes shoot fire,
When they question drills that I require.
...
Our problems still remain the same,
A fact you've heard me oft proclaim,
We first must think just of the team,
And sacrifice the selfish dream;
But know that if the team does well,
In every way each must excel,
It matters not who is to blame,
Each one must truly play the game.
...
I want to say -- yes, I'll foretell,
Eventually this team will jell,
And when they do, they will be great,
A championship could be their fate,
With every starter coming back,
Yes, Walt and Gail and Keith and Jack
And Fred and Freddie and some more,
We could be champs in sixty-four.

Actually, each team I ever coached had its own particular character. But while I have never said that any one of them was better than another, I guess I'll have to admit to having a special feeling for my first NCAA champions. It was a team of tremendous courage and poise that met every challenge. While it was a short team, they played tall in style and determination and were never rattled when we were behind. There was never a show of panic or any inclination to adandon the game plan. In fact there were times when I may have teetered on the verge of a change of tactic, but they held stead and were confident. Above all, each player believed firmly in our pressing defense. They were confident that it would produce the results we wanted.

Some fans and sportswriters have said that I used the press for the first time with the 1964 team, but this wasn't the case. Years before I had used it with my high school teams, and in 1963 it was introduced as the basic defense with our UCLA squad. And toward the end of that season it really began to pay off.

In short, their defense was aggressive, and they were a fine passing team with tremendous hustle, drive, and determination. I'm certain that thoughts of defeat never entered their minds.