Men's Basketball At The Olympics: Is A Coach Even Necessary?
By Will Burchfield
Twitter:burchie_kid
Yesterday's ten-point scare against Australia aside, the United States men's basketball team has looked untouchable through its preliminary-round games in Rio.
This isn't a surprise, of course.
But the Americans' 37-point average margin of victory so far begs an interesting question: could any old person coach this team to a gold medal?
Since 2005, the United States has been coached by Mike Krzyzewski. The team has compiled a 78-1 record under his leadership, including a 19-0 mark in the Olympics. The faces have changed over the years but the dominance has continued uninterrupted, the U.S. as sure a bet as Stephen Curry from the free-throw line.
The explanation for their success is simple. It has nothing to do with positional depth or team camaraderie or advantageous matchups. And it certainly isn't a product of coaching wizardry. No, the Americans win because they are objectively and comprehensively better than their opponents.
The analysis can end there.
This isn't a knock on Krzyzewski. We're not doubting his coaching acumen. We're just wondering how much the Americans benefit from it, how much they truly need it. Without him, it's hard to imagine they'd suffer much of a drop-off.
Krzyzewski's main charge is managing personalities and soothing egos. Beyond that, his impact seems minimal. He doesn't have enough time leading up to the Olympics to implement any kind of team system and his essential duty during the games is dividing playing time among a host of superstars.
There are those who suggest Krzyzewski fosters team unity. That certainly may be true off the court, but any on-court chemistry that develops as the tournament presses on is simply a result of the players growing more familiar with one another.
In practices, does Krzyzewski have to do much more than throw out a ball, blow his whistle and tell the boys to have at it?
The Americans are so thoroughly superior to most of the teams in the Olympic field that virtually any starting lineup, chosen at random, would beat another country's best. It doesn't take a brilliant basketball mind to put five superstars on the floor and then sub in a few more as the game wears on.
But could such a passive coaching approach carry the team to a gold medal? The competition stiffens in the medal round, demanding that coaches identify mismatches and call on the right players at the right times. Not everyone has a feel for this, but again, the Americans' edge in talent seems wide enough to make up for any disadvantage on the sideline.
Looking at the Olympic field, there are three teams that have an outside chance at beating the U.S.: Australia, Argentina and Spain. Replace the American coaching staff with a random group of average Joes and plain Janes and that outlook really doesn't change. Sure, the team's immediate challengers might see their odds improve, but Carmelo and Co. aren't losing to Nigeria or Venezuela or Serbia (and the list goes on) no matter who's calling the shots on the sideline.
It's just not happening.
NBA players, especially NBA stars, are known to coach themselves. They play in a league where that's the norm. The U.S. men's basketball team is comprised of 12 such stars, who need Coach Krzyzewski as much as Michael Phelps needs a lifeguard. They would hardly fall apart without him.
There might be more player unrest. There'd likely be more on-court confusion. But Kevin Durant is Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving is Kyrie Irving regardless of who's coaching them. Put them on the floor in a USA jersey and, happy or not, organized or not, they'll strive to eviscerate the opposition. It's simply how they're wired.
Essentially, the question at hand is do the Americans really need a coach?
Or could they win led by a scarecrow with a clipboard in its hand?
It would ultimately come down to the players' willingness to play together without being told to do so. And here it's important to consider the force of patriotism, the compulsion to do right by one's country. With or without a coach, it seems possible that 12 superstars would figure out – and agree on – what's best for the team in the name of national pride.
Maybe that's naïve. Maybe that's underestimating the size of these players' egos. Maybe the only thing keeping this team from epic self-destruction is an authority figure who has the clout to hold everyone accountable.
Fine.
But pick a blacktop. Pick a time. Pick an opponent, coaching staff and all. Then run out these 12 Americans, on their own, and start the clock.
I still like their odds.
