Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Interview with Author of Wooden Biography

Barbara Olenyik Morrow is a journalist and author from Auburn, Indiana, who has been a Pulitzer Prize finalist for editorial writing. Her youth biography of novelist and conservationist Gene Stratton-Porter was published by the IHS Press in 2010. Morrow’s other books include From Ben-Hur to Sister Carrie, in which she profiled five Hoosier writers during Indiana’s golden age of literature, and A Good Night for Freedom, the well-received children’s picture book about the Underground Railroad and famed Hoosier abolitionists Levi and Catharine Coffin. Here she talks about her new youth biography of basketball coach John Wooden.
What inspired you to write about such an Indiana legend?
I was a student at Indiana University in the early 1970s when the UCLA Bruins—coached by John Wooden—dominated college basketball. Naturally, I rooted for the IU Hoosiers, especially when they played UCLA in the semifinal game of the NCAA tournament in St. Louis in 1973. Like other Hoosier fans, I was sorely disappointed when Wooden’s squad defeated IU, paving the way for the Bruins to win their ninth national title two days later. Nine national championships in a single decade—that’s what Wooden achieved that March.

Two years later, Wooden retired, triumphantly as ever, having just coached UCLA to its tenth national championship. At that point he moved off my radar screen, especially as IU Coach Bobby Knight began to make his mark on the game. IU won the national basketball title in 1976, the year after Wooden’s retirement, and the Knight-coached Hoosiers won championships again in 1981 and 1987. In the midst of all that Hoosier hoops frenzy, Wooden and the UCLA Bruins—in my limited worldview, at least—seemed “so yesterday.”

Then came June 2010. Coach Wooden died, just months shy of his 100th birthday. Media coverage of his passing was extensive, and tributes poured in from everywhere. President Obama remembered Wooden as “an incredible coach and an even better man.” As I followed the coverage, I became intrigued about the Hoosier roots of this coaching giant whom I had given little thought to since my college days. I read how he grew up on an Indiana farm with no electricity or indoor plumbing. I read how his father knocked the bottom out of a tomato basket and nailed it to the barn wall, while his mother stuffed rags in her black cotton hose and stitched them up to make a ball—all so he and his brother could play a game that was taking the Hoosier state by storm.  

I read, too, how Wooden loved poetry, studied Shakespeare and taught high school English. And how he always lived modestly and was revered for his decency and valued his Midwestern upbringing.

All of this grabbed me. I kept reading. And soon I was inspired to write Hardwood Glory.

How did you go about researching Wooden’s life?

As I said, I started by reading. I soaked up information from Wooden’s two autobiographies (They Call Me Coach and My Personal Best: Life Lessons from an All-American Journey) and delved into the many books written about his coaching philosophy, leadership style, and pearls of homespun wisdom. I then read biographies of athletes who played for Wooden (Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Bill Walton, among them), immersed myself in Indiana high school basketball history, and researched the evolution of college basketball and post-season tournaments.

Given that Wooden lived throughout most of the twentieth century (he was born in 1910), I knew I had to give historical context to his life. That led me to bone up on major events and cultural forces in each decade of the 1900s—from America’s entry into World War I, the Roaring Twenties and Great Depression to civil-rights struggles and turmoil wrought by the Vietnam War and Watergate scandal.  Race relations is another subject I researched. Wooden grew up in a time and place when segregation was widely accepted, with “color barriers” the norm in sports and other aspects of American life. I wanted to understand the various ways those barriers were broken and to explore Wooden’s forward-thinking views on race.

My research inevitably led to travel. I spent considerable time in Morgan County, Indiana, Wooden’s birthplace. I visited the various communities in which he grew up (Martinsville, Hall, Monrovia and Centerton), read family gravestones, and studied old newspapers and yearbooks in Martinsville’s public library. Recent research by Morgan County residents Curtis H. Tomak, Joanne Raetz Stuttgen, and Norma J. Tomak served me well; they uncovered new information that corrected often-told accounts of Wooden’s early life, and I made of a point – following my own digging—to present the corrected accounts. Wherever I traveled, I interviewed people.  In South Bend, for instance, I was fortunate to interview men who had played for Wooden at Central High School when he coached there in the 1930s and early 1940s. Likewise, I was fortunate to interview Gary, IN, resident Kevin J. Walker, who shared a journal written by his father Clarence Walker, a member of Wooden’s Sycamore squad at Indiana State Teachers College in the late 1940s—a pivotal time in the integration of college basketball.

My research would not have been complete without a trip to Los Angeles. There I had the pleasure of meeting Wooden’s daughter Nan, who invited me to her home where I viewed rooms full of family photos and Wooden memorabilia. I also spent time at UCLA, where Bill Bennett, an athletics department official, gave me access to a wealth of material and where I benefited from studying an exhibit in the UCLA Athletic Hall of Fame. The exhibit, known as Wooden’s “den,” contains furnishings and personal items donated by his family and displayed exactly as they had been in his suburban Los Angeles condominium.

I would be remiss if I failed to mention that Steve Alford, UCLA’s newly named head coach at the time of my visit, granted me an interview. We talked about Alford’s Hoosier roots and how he lived in Martinsville in the early 1970s – a time when his father, Sam, coached the high school team. Young Alford spent afternoons hanging out in the very gym where Wooden had been a high school star decades earlier.

At my request, Coach Alford wrote the foreword to Hardwood Glory.

In doing your research, did you come across anything about Wooden that surprised you?

I had read that Wooden was highly competitive, but I did not realize the extent of his competitiveness until I researched his early years of coaching. I am indebted to Peter DeKever, a Mishawaka historian who drew my attention to a basketball game in January 1937 between the South Bend Central High School Bears, coached by Wooden, and the Mishawaka High School Cavemen, coached by Shelby S. Shake. The after-game court fireworks, as reported in a South Bend newspaper, revealed that Wooden was not someone to push around and that he definitely had a fiery side.

I also was surprised to learn about the intersection of the lives of Wooden, UCLA Bruin star center Bill Walton, President Richard Nixon and White House Chief of Staff H. R. “Bob” Haldeman in the 1970s, before and after Watergate. If I’ve aroused your curiosity, good!
Why was Wooden such a successful coach?

He lived by the saying “failing to prepare is preparing to fail,” and thus he made the most of basketball practices. He put his players through repetitive drills so that they instinctively executed “fundamentals” in games. He likewise put players through grueling physical workouts so that their superb conditioning enabled them to wear down opponents. Moreover, Wooden stressed teamwork. Drawing upon a shrewd understanding of human psychology, common sense, and his own deep-seated decency, he managed to tame egos and meld players into a unit that made them all look good. The team, not the individual, was the star.

Is it possible for any modern-day coach to match Wooden’s accomplishments?

I think not. Today players bolt to the professional ranks after a year or two of college, making it difficult for coaches to mold team unity and build upon lessons taught and strides made the previous year.

Any other comments regarding Coach Wooden?

It seems rather fitting that Indianapolis will host the 2015 NCAA Final Four Tournament. This March marks 40 years since Wooden made tournament history by coaching the UCLA Bruins to their 10th national championship, a men’s record that remains unrivaled. This year also marks 40 years since Wooden retired from the game at which he excelled throughout his long life, as first a player and then a coach. The very game, of course, that he learned to play . . . in Indiana.

Do you have an idea for your next book?

Ideas, yes. Always ideas. But nothing firm.




     


 




15 comments:

  1. Anonymous9:22 AM

    Un souffle vivant.

    Dans la solennité
    d'une pensée
    fugitive la fête
    du soleil retrouve
    la jeunesse et
    le chant d'un
    oiseau qui cherche
    l'harmonie.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous11:47 AM

    A branch and the immensity.

    On the pathway
    a dry leaf and
    the scent of
    a flower that
    shines in the
    morning to
    discover your
    sadness....

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous4:27 AM

    El sonido de una mágica voz.

    Veo, en la
    inmensidad de
    un canto cristalino,
    el sueño de una
    niña templada
    que mira el
    pasado regalando
    un suspiro.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  4. In the reason that care....

    I try to
    discover a
    whole day and
    so, when a
    cloud disappears,
    a secret returns
    in my mind
    recalling the
    young soul and
    the world of
    your dreams...

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  5. Like a melody.

    Your delicate
    sadness appears
    like a melody,
    your inner
    desire returns
    in the ground
    with a gentle
    behaviour.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  6. Comme une mélodie dans l'air.

    Dans la saison
    de la nostalgie
    un rayon épuisé
    couvre le sommet
    d'une ancienne
    ferme et ainsi,
    dans l'aube d'une
    lumière, le chant
    de la vie retourne
    en silence.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  7. El fervor de la memoria.

    En el viñedo
    una luz
    reaparece
    como el
    canto de un
    diamante
    en el limpido
    destino.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  8. Anonymous11:51 AM

    Sweet little candor....
    ( last version )

    In the dead
    of night, while
    the face is leaning
    on the pillow
    and a magical calm
    spreads in the
    darkness, a tender
    image comes in
    the bedroom and
    touches my lips
    with a luminous
    whisper: “ sometimes,
    in your faith, the
    breath of a feeling
    will cover the
    sadness of a desolate
    soul...”

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  9. En el canto.

    Siento radiante
    un canto y
    una rima pasar
    donde el sueño
    describe la noche
    y una tierna
    poesía.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    Like a melody.
    ( other version )

    When the joy
    of a blackbird
    glows in the air
    and the juvenile
    candor lightens
    the heart of a
    luminous garden
    your delicate
    sadness appears
    like a melody,
    your inner desire
    returns in the sun
    with the gentle
    appearance of a
    tender emotion....

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  10. Amistad.

    Siento una
    luz cantar
    suavemente
    como el sueño
    infinito que
    dulce regresa
    el la triste
    poesía.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    The smile of a springtime.

    In the sound
    of a singing,
    near the charmed
    clamour of a
    waterfall, there's
    a delicate smile
    that calls the
    atmosphere of
    a luminous
    thought.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    L'eau des mystères.

    Comme un
    souffle de lumière
    qui décrit la
    chanson j'écoute,
    dans la mer, la
    fraîche harmonie
    et une rime
    silencieuse.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  11. El fervor de la memoria.
    ( other version )

    Siento un susurro
    dónde el rayo
    pasajero se
    transforma en
    el pasado, veo
    una luz en el viñedo
    cuando el sueño
    reaparece como
    el canto del diamante
    en el limpido
    destino.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    El fervor de la memoria.
    ( third version )

    Siento un susurro
    dónde el miedo
    pasajero se
    transforma en
    el pasado, veo
    una luz en el viñedo
    cuando el sueño
    reaparece como
    el canto del diamante
    en el limpido
    destino: muere
    la poesía, revive
    la tristeza en la dulce
    cantinela de una
    cándida mujer...

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  12. Le sourire et le conte du cœur.

    Quelquefois
    le murmure de
    la soirée m'invite
    à traduire le
    chant de la mort,
    et alors le sourire
    devient le manteau
    et un son délicat.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  13. Anonymous12:18 PM

    La voix des sens.
    ( other version )

    Dans la nature
    des sourires,
    et dans l'aube
    de l'espoir qui
    dépeint le matin,
    une image s'évanouit
    en donnant la
    chanson de l'étoile
    silencieuse...

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    La voix des sens.
    ( third version )

    Dans la nature
    des sourires,
    et dans l'aube
    de l'espoir qui
    dépeint le matin,
    une image s'évanouit
    en créant le profil
    de la prairie silencieuse
    qui chante la tristesse
    et puis donne le
    soupir d'un moineau
    fugitif...

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  14. Un sueño atestado.
    ( other version )

    Una tierna
    mirada es como
    la noche que
    canta infinita
    cuando el soplo
    suave de una
    estrella sincera
    ilumina el campo
    y el perfil del
    pasado...

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    Un sueño atestado.
    ( third version )

    Una tierna
    mirada es como
    la noche que
    brilla sincera
    cuando el soplo
    suave de una
    límpida gracia
    ilumina el campo
    y el perfil encantado
    del fresco torrente:
    veo la dulzura en
    los ojos mojados,
    siento el fervor
    del poético verso...

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete
  15. Anonymous11:54 AM

    La fiesta de las sonrisas.

    En el perpetuo
    canto de la
    noche el ave
    gorjea con
    un triste sonido
    que recuerda
    el amor.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    In the purity of a dream.

    Modest and
    sparkling virtue,
    I can hear an
    attraction where
    a delicate
    candle discovers
    a fate.

    Francesco Sinibaldi


    La douceur d'une pensée.

    Une belle
    image dépeint
    le portrait
    qui chante
    le matin et
    alors, dans
    l'aube d'une
    pensée, j'attends
    le sourire.

    Francesco Sinibaldi

    ReplyDelete