Monday, September 12, 2005
Football season is just underway, but I am already breathlessly anticipating the opening of the Kansas Jayhawks’ basketball season on November 9. In that same spirit, I recently received the following missive from my friend and fellow Jayhawk Greg back in K.C.:
My problem isn’t with Brandon Rush per se. He’s really just a symptom of a much larger problem in college basketball: that of young players who use college as nothing more than a springboard to the fame and fortune of the NBA.Two words: Brandon Rush. I'm just not sure how to reconcile all the conflicting feelings I have about this. I'm glad we're getting a player of obvious talent, but, come on, Brandon RUSH? This could never have happened under Roy, right? Maybe Brandon deserves to be judged on his own merits, but I, for one, am having trouble with that. What is your reaction to the Rush situation? What are your thoughts on the state of the (bar-brawling) program? The people want to know. (OK, I want to know, but I can think of at least two other people who would probably also like to know, so I'm sticking with “the people.”)
(Before I continue, allow me to acknowledge the separate and completely valid argument in favor of poor — and predominantly black — student-athletes who, rather than stay in school, are able to transform their families’ fortunes with a single flourish of a pen at the bottom of a contract. I still wonder, though, how many of these athletes value their newfound fortunes enough to return later and complete their educations.)
Still, Brandon Rush is proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. He comes from an athletically gifted family that seems to believe its scions have a divine right to play in the NBA.
And Greg is correct when he notes that this couldn’t happen under former Kansas coach Roy Williams. In fact, Brandon Rush’s own big brother JaRon is the proof.
JaRon Rush, who was one of the nation’s most highly recruited high schoolers when he came out of Kansas City’s Pembroke Hill in 1998, chose UCLA over Kansas in part because Williams made no guarantees that Rush would be in the starting lineup or play a lot of minutes under his system of substitution. For all his faults, Williams’ first objective has always been to develop strong team players who also excel as student-athletes. In this instance, Williams was faced with a player who was looking to use Allen Field House as a pedestal for his own personal aggrandizement, and he wisely washed his hands of JaRon Rush.
JaRon went west to UCLA, where he experienced athletic, ethical and academic hardships, as well as homesickness, claiming that he missed his infant son. When this last point was revealed in the media, JaRon lost any sympathy he might ever have expected from me. If you have a child, why would you move 1,600 miles away from him in the first place just to play basketball?
Furthermore, when the NCAA punished Rush with a 44-game suspension (later reduced to 24 games) for his involvement with agents and having accepted money while in high school and at UCLA, the university announced that it still intended to honor his scholarship. Instead of staying at UCLA, which was essentially guaranteeing his education and giving him an opportunity to improve as a player, Rush came out for the 2000 NBA Draft and was passed over, despite his initial impression that “[t]here’s not that much talent this year… I feel that I can play with the players that are coming out.”
Hubris has been the downfall of kings and presidents and military generals and captains of industry, and had JaRon Rush stayed in school, he might have taken a Western Civ course and learned the lessons of hubris before becoming a victim of his own. As longtime Kansas Citian and veteran play-by-play announcer Kevin Harlan said, “Had he gone to Kansas and played for Roy Williams, I can almost guarantee you he would not be in this position right now… I think he really needed a mentor. I don’t think he got a mentor. It’s a very sad story.” Sadder still that his own family was as blinded as JaRon by the promise of quick fame and fortune when they had every opportunity to advise him to play it smart and ensure his future beyond basketball.
Fast forward to 2005. After withdrawing his name from the 2005 NBA Draft because he wasn’t projected as a likely first-round pick (the agony, the shame), Brandon Rush passed up an opportunity to play in the NBA Development League, which, as its name implies, would have developed his skills to bring him up to par with the sort of talent he’d face in the NBA.
Because, you see, the Development League isn’t televised, and the teams play in markets like Fort Worth, Roanoke, Tulsa and Fayetteville. There would be no way for the world to see Brandon Rush becoming an NBA-caliber player, especially considering that he had hoped to be already playing in packed houses before NBA crowds.
Solution: Go to college instead. And not just any college, either, but a perennial basketball powerhouse that plays televised games every Saturday and on ESPN every Tuesday night.
Does Kansas need Brandon Rush? No. Not if incoming recruits like Julian Wright and Mario Chalmers live up to their hype. One wonders if coach Bill Self has weighed all the pertinent considerations here — not only regarding what Rush can bring to the Jayhawks but what the University of Kansas can offer Rush. In effect, Self may merely be replacing one problem child — departing junior guard J.R. Giddens, to whom Greg refers with his “bar-brawling” mention above — with another in Rush.
Would I like to be proved wrong? Of course I would, especially if it turns out that Brandon Rush is the final piece in the championship puzzle. But I’d want him to stay four years and get a first-class education, too. I’m funny that way.
In response to the growing trend toward players being drafted directly out of high school, the NBA recently enacted a rule prohibiting any player to suit up for an NBA team before his 19th birthday. And while that is a step in the right direction, I believe the NCAA needs to take similar steps to ensure that its universities aren’t being used simply as stepping stones and that scholarships aren’t being given away solely for the purpose of building hardwood dynasties.
Perhaps when high school players sign letters of intent with universities, they should be forced to declare their intent to stay in school for a predetermined amount of time, the terms of which would dictate limitations on the scholarships they would receive. For example, a high school recruit signs a letter of intent to play at the University of Kansas for four years and is given a full scholarship; but if that same player signs for only two years, presuming an opportunity to come out for the draft after his sophomore year, the player would be offered only a partial scholarship for his freshman and sophomore years. If that same player decided to forgo the draft and return for his junior year, he would be eligible to receive increased scholarship benefits, up to a full scholarship during his senior year.
One can hope that Brandon Rush will prove to be more like his other big brother, Kareem, who, despite problems of his own, played well in three seasons at the University of Missouri and is now with the Charlotte Bobcats of the NBA. But if I were Bill Self, I would respectfully pass on the opportunity to coach Brandon Rush and instead award a spot in the lineup to a student-athlete whom I deem to be more sincere about the opportunity to be a Jayhawk.
It’s a gamble I’d be willing to take, because if history teaches us anything, it’s that we don’t heed history’s lessons often enough.
