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Authors: Jay Williams
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would not be rewarded, so if you came here, you were coming here to be the best.
Music to my dadâs ears.
It was just the type of challenge I was looking for. At a program like Duke, I would have to scrap and claw for playing time.
At the time, they had seven or eight McDonaldâs All Americans on the team, many of whom could potentially be there the following year. They were absolutely loaded, having just completed a 32â4 season in which they finished as conferencechampions and fell in the Elite Eight to Kentucky, who went on to win it all that year. William Avery was going into his sophomore year, and everyone expected a breakout campaign from him at the point guard spot. Elton Brand and Shane Battier were also going into their second year. The âAlaskan Assassin,â Trajan Langdon, was returning for his senior season. And if that wasnât enough, they now had Chicagoâs pride and joy, Corey Maggette, as an incoming freshman.
After a while, my parents decided to go on a short tour to allow me some one-on-one time with Coach K.
âWhatâs your goal?â he asked. I was stumped. I had an answerâto perhaps get a college degree and play in the NBAâbut I wanted to provide him with what I thought he wanted to hear. I chose to not say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing.
âThe school gets so much from you,â he said. âWhat are you using the school for?â I instinctively said, âAn education.â He followed that up by explaining how an education is one of the priorities, but to think about the relationships this school offers. And how to leverage those into something bigger than basketball. Basketball is just a small window, and thatâs assuming I was lucky enough to have a professional career. It would be 15 years at best, and then what? What would the plan be after that? He emphasized how important it would be to utilize the connections I would forge to my advantage over the long haul.
I was blown away. I was a 16-year-old kid being talked to like a grown up. Being challenged to think about my future as a man would.
I wasnât sold completely just yet. After all, only hours before, I had pretty much decided to play for Rutgers.
I had developed this spiel after a while that neutralized anypressure a coach put on me about committing to their program. I would say something along the lines of âI love this. Itâs awesome, and itâs an amazing opportunity to be down here. After we see the campus and meet some of the guys, Iâm going to go back to New Jersey and take some time to weigh all this stuff out and see where things lie. You know, get my parentsâ input, stuff like that.â
It was a good, well-rehearsed routine. But hereâs the brilliance of Coach K. He let me recite my lines, and when I was finished he said . . . nothing. It was like one of those awkward pauses where you donât know if you should jump back in and say something or wait to see if heâs going to say something first.
Then came this gem.
âWell, look, we want you here. I want you here. But if youâre not interested in Duke, then this is something I need to know, because Iâm probably going to take this other kid, Todd, from New Jersey.â
Oh , hell, no.
I knew exactly who he was talking about. Todd Billet played at an all-boys high school in southern New Jersey called Christian Brothers Academy. People were always saying how much better Todd was than me. Todd was ranked higher than I was in the New Jersey papers. Todd got invited to the ABCD Camp; I didnât. We had beaten Christian Brothers a couple of times, and people still said he was better than me. It drove me crazy. Iâd been competing with him throughout high school, and here I was again, it seemed, competing with him for a spot on Duke.
This was the genius of Mike Krzyzewski. He first appealed to my intelligence, then to my maturity, and when I was
Music to my dadâs ears.
It was just the type of challenge I was looking for. At a program like Duke, I would have to scrap and claw for playing time.
At the time, they had seven or eight McDonaldâs All Americans on the team, many of whom could potentially be there the following year. They were absolutely loaded, having just completed a 32â4 season in which they finished as conferencechampions and fell in the Elite Eight to Kentucky, who went on to win it all that year. William Avery was going into his sophomore year, and everyone expected a breakout campaign from him at the point guard spot. Elton Brand and Shane Battier were also going into their second year. The âAlaskan Assassin,â Trajan Langdon, was returning for his senior season. And if that wasnât enough, they now had Chicagoâs pride and joy, Corey Maggette, as an incoming freshman.
After a while, my parents decided to go on a short tour to allow me some one-on-one time with Coach K.
âWhatâs your goal?â he asked. I was stumped. I had an answerâto perhaps get a college degree and play in the NBAâbut I wanted to provide him with what I thought he wanted to hear. I chose to not say anything for fear of saying the wrong thing.
âThe school gets so much from you,â he said. âWhat are you using the school for?â I instinctively said, âAn education.â He followed that up by explaining how an education is one of the priorities, but to think about the relationships this school offers. And how to leverage those into something bigger than basketball. Basketball is just a small window, and thatâs assuming I was lucky enough to have a professional career. It would be 15 years at best, and then what? What would the plan be after that? He emphasized how important it would be to utilize the connections I would forge to my advantage over the long haul.
I was blown away. I was a 16-year-old kid being talked to like a grown up. Being challenged to think about my future as a man would.
I wasnât sold completely just yet. After all, only hours before, I had pretty much decided to play for Rutgers.
I had developed this spiel after a while that neutralized anypressure a coach put on me about committing to their program. I would say something along the lines of âI love this. Itâs awesome, and itâs an amazing opportunity to be down here. After we see the campus and meet some of the guys, Iâm going to go back to New Jersey and take some time to weigh all this stuff out and see where things lie. You know, get my parentsâ input, stuff like that.â
It was a good, well-rehearsed routine. But hereâs the brilliance of Coach K. He let me recite my lines, and when I was finished he said . . . nothing. It was like one of those awkward pauses where you donât know if you should jump back in and say something or wait to see if heâs going to say something first.
Then came this gem.
âWell, look, we want you here. I want you here. But if youâre not interested in Duke, then this is something I need to know, because Iâm probably going to take this other kid, Todd, from New Jersey.â
Oh , hell, no.
I knew exactly who he was talking about. Todd Billet played at an all-boys high school in southern New Jersey called Christian Brothers Academy. People were always saying how much better Todd was than me. Todd was ranked higher than I was in the New Jersey papers. Todd got invited to the ABCD Camp; I didnât. We had beaten Christian Brothers a couple of times, and people still said he was better than me. It drove me crazy. Iâd been competing with him throughout high school, and here I was again, it seemed, competing with him for a spot on Duke.
This was the genius of Mike Krzyzewski. He first appealed to my intelligence, then to my maturity, and when I was
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