Dietrich Richardson has discovered classical philology. In his rhetoric class, the students are pondering etymological derivatives. Hence, Richardson now proclaims, “Dietrich means ‘power of the tribe.'” I can’t think of a better argument in favor of a broad liberal arts education: to learn things you didn’t even know you wanted to learn.
I learned about all this when I stopped by the Ubben last week to see how things were getting along. I didn’t interrupt the proceedings, of course. Our chat came after practice, as Dietrich was leaving the building with his friends Demetri (“follower of the Earth-Mother”) and Joseph (“he will add/enlarge”).
Workouts with coaches continue to abide NCAA rules. Only four players can go at one time. The rest of the team watches, lifts weights and shoots around. Then the coaches go upstairs to their offices, and the fun starts.
Richard Semrau dominated those pick-up games I watched. He moves well in the pivot, and pops for production-line 15 foot jumpers. In Thursday’s practice, Semrau missed one. There was also a dipsy-doodle lay-in using the rim to block his defender. He rammed home a pair of two fisted jams.
Brandon Paul blows by Alex Legion
A rivalry is developing between Brandon Paul and Alex Legion. There’s a bit of verbal smack interspersed among the “I say ye good fellows.” It makes sense. Those two are competing for a spot in the starting line-up.
They bring different weapons to the wing. From triple-threat position, either can shoot the long ball. But if Alex takes it toward the hole, he will slash and jaunt through a defense, and then pull up for a jumper. When Brandon takes it to the hole, he takes it all the way. And he goes over people, he doesn’t come down for a while. Furthermore, whereas Brandon’s speaking voice evokes images of librarians, his dunking voice drops two octaves lower. It emanates from lungs the size of wildebeest. It recalls otherworldly demons, usually heard only in Bruce Pearl’s darkest premonitions.
Alex Legion blows by Brandon Paul
But back to threat position #1. When Legion shoots, the ball doesn’t waste a lot of time arching. Like Nick Anderson, Legion shoots on a line. Net-snapping is rare. He hits much rim, and much glass. But when I watched Legion and Paul go around the horn together, Legion missed only once.
Paul’s shot forms a magnificent arch —not Richard Keene’s tall can of corn (Paul lacks the Vitalis® for that brand of pomp) — but a bell curve of geometric perfection. While accurate, and usually net-snapping, it didn’t find the bottom so often as Legion’s liners clanged home.
There’s an irony here. Last year, Alex nearly broke the rims. This year, Brandon is a threat to the rims. But it’s a good threat.
Along with all the new faces at Ubben is a new new face. Matt O’Neal played high school ball in Geneva, but came to Illinois to study. That was three years ago. But unlike many college seniors, he’s kept in shape. Like very, very few college seniors, he’s 6’7″. Unlike almost anyone over two meters tall, he’s quick on his feet — his 215 pounds look to be composed of limber muscles rather than beer, pizzas, beer and burritos as big as your beer.
Walk-on hopeful Matt O’Neal awaits a pass from Dietrich Richardson during a pick-up game at Ubben last Thursday
“I was invited to come to open gyms by Alex Legion, who I met over at ARC, playing pick up,” said O’Neal about his presence among the scholarshiped. “He recommended that I come over and play with the guys and give walking-on a shot.”
Reminder to aspiring walk-ons: If your game is good enough to catch anybody’s eye, try to ensure that it’s a worthwhile eye to catch. Also, make an effort to be over two meters tall.
To keep your salivary glands active, I’ll add Matt’s analysis of the pick-up sessions he’s attended: “The freshman have been really impressive, and I could see a few of them contributing this year in a big way. The team seems hungry and ready to build on last years success. They aren’t content with last year, and are expecting bigger things. That is the feeling I have gotten being around them.”
Joseph Bertrand is one of those freshmen. Joseph added to, and enlarged the recruiting class of 2009. But his upcoming arthroscopic knee surgery portends a contribution in Future Times. He’s the freshman who appears least audacious about his game. Confidence is important at this stage, and unless it’s oozing from a freshman, or unless there’s a hole in the line-up, waiting a year is an excellent option.
Tyler Griffey should probably redshirt, too. As of now, he practices with no shirt whatsoever. He has that swagger, and that may be a problem. He’s good now. He’s confident and moves well among the other, more experienced bigs when he’s on the floor. Maybe I should take him aside and explain the Chris Gandy Principle, or the Warren Carter Problem. Both cases prove that players get better. Only one demonstrates that a redshirt year proves just how much better a player can get.
More importantly, Tyler should know that Bruce Weber is no mathematical genius. Weber can count, but only to eight. That’s probably because Weber has a lazy eye and cannot see the bench. Weber also has trouble counting to 13, the number of scholarships allowed per NCAA rules — or 14, the number of scholarships Weber has (theoretically) promised for next year.
Richard Semrau might explain Weber’s vision/math problems to Griffey. Richard has the same skill set, but less confidence (largely Weber’s fault), and more musculature (completely Richard’s will and determination). If Richard explained these issues to Tyler, it might come off as self-serving. It would be self-serving. The Illini have no shortage of tall men who can pop and hit from 15. But to the extent that Bruce Weber can see, Semrau will have to showcase his other skills to the degree that they can no longer be ignored.
After practice, and dominating the pick-up games, Semrau stayed to practice jumpers. Team managers corralled balls for him, while O’Neal collected his own caroms, alone, at the near end of the court. Next, Semrau worked on ball-handling, while the rest of the players guffawed in the locker room. A showered Mike Tisdale joked, as he departed “Semrau is still shooting ’cause he got dunked on.'”
But I didn’t see that. I saw Semrau in a way that I tend to see him — doing the right things, and deserving of more opportunities. Am I just imagining it? Maybe if I were paid a million-five, I would be cured of my silly predilictions. On the other hand, counting to 1.5 may be easier than counting past eight.