Troy State vs. DeVry - Jan. 12, 1992: A Critique

“I’m not sure I understand what I saw here today.” -Television announcer for this game.

Throughout my many years of consuming cinema I have always had a fascination with strange, weird, oddball films that manage to distinguish themselves from the more common, mainstream fare. The fact that cinema and art in general tends to have a rather free form, unstructured system in place in regards to how content is created is what I find most intriguing about films. It creates a world full of possibilities for what you may encounter when exploring the form. Such a notion though can rarely be applied to the world of sports. My biggest problem with how sports are played is its intricately developed system of rules and regulations. While most organizations will claim that such rules are necessary to promote the fair execution of the sport by its athletes (which is probably true to some degree), subconsciously they may also promote conformity in its overall shape and pattern of play. The parameters by which a sport dictates how an event is to be conducted, along with its singular objective of victory, produces a library of content where it’s difficult for one particular match to stand apart from any other that’s been played before. Thus I find the consumption of sporting events in the long term to be increasingly tiring and mechanically trite. The world of sporting events is not one that welcomes creative, curious experimentation. Such is either rendered as horribly unproductive in relation to a match’s desired objective or is incredibly fleeting, especially once strategies are developed to effectively counter its implementation.

There are of course some exceptions to these ideas. One of the more fruitful eras of sporting experimentation came during a period of collegiate basketball in the US during the late 1980s and early 1990s. During this period several different coaches aimed to play an incredibly up-tempo, high-octane brand of basketball that the sport had never quite seen before and really hasn’t seen since. It all started with Paul Westhead who back in the early 1970s witnessed a speedier version of the game being played in Puerto Rican summer leagues and saw its potential. In early 1980s, a California high school coach, named Gary Zarecky, relied on statistical analysis to determine the most ideal spot to shoot the ball and devised plays that would allow his players to find such spots as quickly as possible, ideally in less than 7 seconds after gaining possession of the ball. It’s a system that he would refine and eventually take with him to US International University in 1985. Like most other for-profit schools, USIU’s athletic program was a risky, precarious venture. The cost of maintaining teams that needed to travel constantly in order to play low-profile games was one that provided little payback for their investment. Zarecky though saw the marketing potential in playing this style of basketball. He attempted to sell the intensity of the play and the frantic excitement of its pace, rather than its effectiveness or mastery in securing the game’s desired outcome. It was a difficult sell and the fact that USIU still lost a majority of its games, it would ultimately fail. 1985 was also the year that Westhead got hired to coach Loyola Marymount. Here Westhead would prove that such a system could actually be successful. LMU would not only win most of its games but in the 1989-90 season it would average 122.4 pts per game, an NCAA Division I record that still stands to this day. LMU games were often high scoring affairs and games against other opponents who dared to play the same style of basketball would result in final scores that were absolutely absurd. The 4 highest scoring games in NCAA Division I basketball history have all been contested between LMU and USIU, with Zarecky and Westhead pitting their wits against each other in 3 of these games. Only 10 games in NCAA Division I history have seen both teams combine for at least 280 points. LMU have competed in 7 such contests, all occurring during the 3 seasons from 1988-89 to 1990-91. Westhead himself has coached in 6 of the 10 games. The last such occurrence came when he was coaching at George Mason University in a game played against recently promoted Troy State.

A few years before this particular game Troy State head coach Don Maestri had watched an LMU game and liked their style of play. Maestri actually got Westhead to send him tapes of how LMU played, so that he could learn his system and implement it for this own team, which at the time was still competing in Division II. Maestri saw the same positives to the strategy that Westhead did. For teams that lacked size and strength, it was better to use one’s speed as a weapon to continually wear the other team down to the point of utter fatigue. This style of play gave players who were better conditioned for prolonged periods of physical exertion an advantage. Still the physical toll that this would take on players over the course of a season, might give pause to other coaches contemplating its use. While coaching at lowly Division III Grinnell College, David Arseneault found a unique solution to the intense physical conditioning that Westhead’s schemes often demanded. His solution was to involve all of his players and rotate them into the game in 3 and 5 player groups in order to keep all the players fresh and limit their minutes on the court. If executed properly no one should play more than 20 minutes in a game, everybody would get in (there were no bench warmers in this system), and the team would comfortably be able to maintain its high-octane pace for the entirety of the game. NCAA basketball does not limit the number of player substitutions that can be made in a game, so players would often take to the court for 45 to 90 second shifts. Much like Zarecky, Arseneault did not see his system as one that would necessarily lead to more victories. The advantages of his system would be that it would keep all of his players involved and foster a more positive, fun atmosphere. He was deemphasizing the desire for victories for a style of play that would offer more entertainment value for fans, and more enjoyment for the players who participated in it. Much like similar systems it depended on the same principles. The first open shot is the best possible shot. A 3-point shot is better than a 2-point shot. On defense, one should press and go for steals as much as possible. If unsuccessful, it’s better to concede an easy layup, provided that you can counter quickly on offense.

In spite of all the coaches who embraced these ideas, its implementation would occasionally encounter resistance. During this era of college basketball, the game used a 45-second shot clock, so it was possible for opposing teams to slow the tempo when in possession in order to drag teams like LMU into a more deliberately paced half-court game. However it was the rare meetings between two programs that both embraced this style of play that were extra special. And no such meeting topped the sheer madness of Troy State vs. DeVry. This was the game where all the ideas ever propagated by the likes of Westhead, Zarecky, Maestri, Arseneault, and others were perfectly melded together and executed to the nth degree. The DeVry Institute of Technolgy, who fielded a team consisting of students from its Atlanta campus, was another for-profit school that was little known and who saw an opportunity for media exposure if they were willing to play the patsy for a possible record breaking performance. Their coach George Trawick, even mentioned the positive aspects of the game afterwards. What transpired between these two basketball teams on this particular date, in the sleepy town of Troy, Alabama was a rarity in the world of sports. Two teams had practically subverted any notion of competing for a victory in order to offer up something that might be considered a pure entertainment spectacle. If a star athlete giving a world class performance in a match where his team secures a prestigious trophy is the equivalent of an Oscar worthy dramatic film, than Troy State vs. DeVry, is the closest thing the sporting world has ever come to offering up a completely insane, bonkers cult film that you can’t believe was ever produced.

The final score of this game was 253 to 141. That alone intrigued me enough to want to watch this. And let me make a short point about the score. Initially it was believed that the score to this game was 258 to 141. Since the broadcast of the entire game is available on YouTube, someone recently took the time to tally every shot made in the game and discovered that 5 extra points were incorrectly granted to Troy State. As for the contemporary recording of the game’s statistics, which includes counting every point, every rebound, every assist, every turnover, every blocked shot, every pass, every foul, every substitution and minutes played and so forth, the task of compiling such data fell to people who were present at the game to witness it in person. Given the meager profiles for both schools, they more than likely had to accomplish this without any video assistance and what transpired before them that day could arguably represent the greatest record-keeping nightmare humanity has ever devised. According to legend, it took 7 people working nearly an hour after the final whistle to compile the final box score. If they got some stuff wrong, it’s understandable. I’m not watching this game in order to assess its statistical accuracy, but rather to experience the sensation of seeing a basketball game played in a way that I’ve never quite seen before.

If the game could gain status as the greatest cult film from the world of sports, the poor production values from its broadcast will only serve to reinforce this notion. Based on what I watched the game action was shot from a single camera that was placed at the top of the stands on one side of the gym. The camera couldn’t move, which forced the camera operator to horizontally pan the camera from side to side in order to follow all the action. In the first half the cameraman was not particularly adept at doing this. The ball would often move across the screen faster than the camera could pan. Sometimes by the time the cameraman caught up with the action the ball was going back in the opposite direction with equal swiftness. In the second half it appeared as if the shot was zoomed out for a deeper perspective which made it easier to pan towards both sides of the court and generally I found the camerawork to be better in this portion of the game. The camera could also pan vertically which it did occasionally to show the scoreboard, which hovered over the center of the court, but it rarely had the chance to do this during the game. The image quality itself was poor, completely lacking in sharpness or clarity. When the camera executed a quick zoom in for the post game interviews there was a brief moment where the video was out of focus as it poorly adjusted to the more intimate framing. The video appeared to be ripped from a VHS cassette tape as indicated by some early tracking issues. There were also a couple of moments were the video would freeze, but this happened infrequently and were only a minor annoyance.

The broadcast itself had the feel of a public access show. It was shot continuously from a single camera to the degree that the entire video only contains two cinematic shots. The one cut that occurs effectively removes 10 minutes of dead air from the halftime period. Whether this cut was done by the broadcasters or the YouTube uploader, I can’t tell. There were no commercial breaks, no replays of any event during the game and no on-screen graphics. This gave the broadcast a very contemporaneous, ‘in the moment’ feel that I actually kind of liked. I also found it refreshing not to see any on screen graphics. Apart from the modest celebration of certain milestones within the game, the players never appeared to be fully conscious of the score, so for me it was appropriate not to be shown this information as I watched the game. What these players were doing was art; it didn’t matter who was winning, nor was there any significance to the numerical context for the action. Honestly the video was better for not constantly reminding me of the score as modern sports broadcasting is intent to do. I also would like to advise against trying to mentally keep track of the score as you watch it. Doing so will likely drive you insane and will keep you from relishing in the beauty of how these players actually played the game.

The sound quality was also shoddy. I suspect that the two game announcers broadcast their commentary through a corded microphone that was propped up on the desk in front of them. Their microphone would constantly capture the ambient noise of the gymnasium. In fact in the pre-game portion of the video the on-site PA announcer would drown out the discussion held between the two television announcers. Still when they could be heard I actually enjoyed the commentary that the two provided. Both seemed to recognize the entertainment value that the game offered and they took no issue in being charmed by its virtues. They broadcast the game in a very positive, respectful manner and they were content to have fun with what they were seeing. Occasionally they would inject their commentary with some goofy humor which added to the appeal of the broadcast. At one point they remarked that the Troy State cheerleading squad would have to be sedated. At another juncture they would make mention of the short novel the statisticians would publish on the first half. Later they would talk about one of the statisticians being on their fourth pencil. But my favorite piece of commentary was the peculiar manner in which they marveled at seeing the shot clock tick down to ‘36’, during a rare short lull in action. Yes, probably the greatest absurdity about this game was its use of a 45-second shot clock, which rarely made it past ‘35’. This was the type of game that could give the shot clock operator a full blown neurosis.

One of the things that stood out for me when watching the game was how much time the ball spent airborne in this game. Players constantly would attempt long passes to quickly move the ball up the court. DeVry’s players were especially persistent in this strategy, probably as a way to bypass Troy State’s full court press. Sometimes after a Troy State basket, the DeVry inbounder would literally arch his back in order to launch a pass across the length of the court. Troy State though would implement this tactic as well. Here’s a common sequence of events that I would see often during the broadcast. DeVry would score a basket. A player from Troy State would take the ball behind the baseline and heave it into their front court to a teammate. The teammate would then take one dribble before shooting the ball from just beyond the 3 point arc. That’s a microcosm of how this game would be played. Having the ball fly through the air, often arching above the frame of the camera shot, instead of dribbling it up the court provided the game with its breathtaking speed. The ball would move back and forth horizontally across the screen with such laser quickness that the game could resemble a ping-pong match. The pace of the game was also noteworthy. There were few stoppages in the game as the action kept bouncing back and forth from one side of the court to the other. At one point a group of Troy State substitutes had to sit at the scorer’s table for nearly 2 and a half minutes as they awaited a stoppage in which to enter the game.

But it wasn’t just the speed and the pace of the game that made it memorable. Its erratic, sometimes absurd manner of play was equally enchanting. There were multiple times during the game where a Troy State player would grab an offensive rebound near the rim and instead of quickly shooting again, they would dribble away from the basket in order to attempt a 3 point shot. There was a discernible need for points in how Troy State played the game, and such desire would manifest itself as utter gluttony. Points were like a drug fix they couldn’t get enough of. On offense they displayed an aggression and a complete lack of restraint in how they went about obtaining their goal, which strangely was combined with a defensive effort that could best be described as apathetic nonchalance. Granted in their endeavor there was little time or effort that could be wasted on playing defense, apart from the risky ploy of going for steals to quickly regain possession. The way Troy State played challenged the notion of what basketball even is. Their no holds bar assault was incredibly simple and blunt in its execution. It required little coaching or use of designed set plays. Why waste time on such contrivances when you can just take the ball and shoot it? Troy State was completely unrepentant in its approach, unapologetic in its aim, and undeterred at any sign of failure.

There was also an element of Zen in how the game was played. The motto for this game was simple: “An untaken shot will never produce anything, whereas a shot taken will only fail occasionally.” No matter how many shots would fail, nor how many times a turnover would be committed, nor how many times the other team would score, you have to accept the existence of such minor failures in life and stay disciplined to the path that you are on. In this respect you have to give some credit to DeVry for the fact that they never wavered from their style of play. It honestly took the full commitment of two teams to make this game memorable and DeVry’s effort here should not be overlooked. They were just as responsible (or perhaps complicit) for how this game turned out.

Granted the manner in which the actual game was played is probably the one thing people could despise about this contest. There was no narrative to the game, no strategic progression, no adjustments that could add an element of intrigue. The performance of the game action itself was so repetitive, so constant that the scoring took on the quality of a never ending bombardment. The density of such a barrage within the duration of the game also made me lose track of time to where I really didn’t feel at the end of the game that I had just watched over 390 points being scored. It happens so quick that it was a blur. The game action was also so persistent in carrying its premise to the heights of utter ridiculousness that it’s easy to dismiss this game as a joke.

To the latter point I would argue that this further cements its cult status. As with many popular cult films this was an amateur undertaking. Let’s not forget that this was a game between a NCAA Division II school and an NAIA Division II school. There was little athleticism on display here apart from maybe DeVry’s Dartez Daniel and Troy State’s Terry McCord with some modest shooting skill from the likes of Tommy Davis and Brian Simpson. None of these players would ever play the sport professionally and the summation of the game’s 394 points was more a function of the manner in which it was conducted rather than the talent that the players collectively brought to the court. The game had its share of ineptitude. Troy State struggled to hit their shots early in the game. There was a distinct sloppiness in how the game was played which its pure speed may have contributed to. Also the presence of several missed layups and blown dunks, especially McCord’s adventurous attempt at a 360 spin jam, added a comedic farcical element to the game that I enjoyed immensely. I also could appreciate Andy Davis’s high stepping footwork when bringing the ball up the court in the second half. It was the one moment where you saw some self-awareness from the players of the game’s status as an entertainment commodity. The fact that the players were having fun playing the game, made watching it a greater joy.

While basketball purists might scoff at its lack of drama, let’s consider what the game offered in its absence. It had speed, pace, intensity, absurdity, comedy, showmanship, not to mention an element of history with all the records that were shattered and which may never be broken. The video itself also offered a really great rendition of the ‘Star-Spangled Banner’, which moved DeVry’s players so much that they walked over to shake hands with the singer. Whether you regard this as true basketball or not as a vehicle for entertainment I really enjoyed the video and was genuinely fascinated by what I saw. Would I like to see more games played like this? I don’t know, probably not. On one hand I can appreciate both teams for their willingness to explore the limits on how crazy a game of basketball could get and for ultimately crafting something that was completely, utterly ludicrous. But the fact that this happened once is enough. I’d rather just enjoy this one game for what it was. As with many cult films its best not to ruin the concept with a sequel.