WASHINGTON - When John Thompson III leaves the office before a game, his secretary has to be the one who gives him the Georgetown pin he'll wear on his lapel while on the bench.
Before getting on the bus to head to the arena, the coach has to drink a yellow Gatorade. No other color will do.
When he emerges at Verizon Center before tip-off, he always stops to high-five or somehow acknowledge the same three kids - Michael, Megan and Matthew - who just happen to have seats by the tunnel that leads to the locker room.
During the game, he has to have a blue marker for drawing plays.
“The managers learn that quickly,” he said. “I don't want black. I don't want green.”
And, several times during an interview with The Associated Press in his office, Thompson answers questions while literally knocking on wood - specifically the table that was next to his chair.
“Am I superstitious?” he said. “Yes. Very.”
So are a lot of coaches. They are creatures of routine. Do the same thing the same way over and over. It helps focus on the present and ignore the outside distractions. The next opponent, in theory at least, is all that is supposed to matter.
That's where Thompson takes the prize. Many coaches preach one game at a time, but Thompson epitomizes the cliche as well as anyone. It's usually a hopeless case to try to get him to analyze the big picture, look down the road or sum up the season to date. Whether it's superstition or a life-with-blinders-on mentality, he is always very much in the now.
“That's how I've been programmed,” Thompson said. “It is important to have tunnel vision. It is important to focus on the next game. Because in this industry, in this day and age, it's easy to get splintered. It's easy to start to wander.”
If Thompson did allow his mind to wander, he would have much to contemplate.
He has done a stellar job in three seasons on the Hilltop. The Hoyas returned this season to the AP top 10 for the first time in six years and will be the top seed in this week's Big East tournament for the first time since 1989. He has persevered under the weight of expectations at a school that got used to success over the decades - with another coach named Thompson.
But the current Thompson would prefer to strike that paragraph, at least while the season is in progress. Certainly, he would want his players to ignore it.
“They definitely hear from me: 'Don't listen to people,”' Thompson said. “Walking in the door the first year, people were saying this is going to be rough. We didn't listen then, and so we don't when people are saying the exact opposite.”
Thompson was “programmed” that way through two primary sources: his Hall of Fame father and the Ivy League.
“Maybe it's a trait growing up in the house where I did,” said Thompson, son of the man who won the 1984 national title and 596 games during 27 seasons at Georgetown. “There were always negative articles being written, negative things being said about our dad. So at a young age, you learn to tune things out - quickly.”
The one-game-at-a-time mind-set was further honed at Princeton, where Thompson spent more than a dozen years as a player, assistant coach and head coach.
“In the Ivy League, every game is a playoff game because there is no postseason tournament,” Thompson said. “In that environment, you do learn that every game is urgent. If you beat Penn on Tuesday and lose to Dartmouth on Saturday, you have one loss in the league and that could end up costing you the league” title.
Although he doesn't often lose focus, Thompson allowed the facade to drop for a few moments Saturday, following a victory over Connecticut that clinched first place in the Big East. The coach said he even thought about cutting down the nets with his wife and children.
“The regular season is over, and we're sitting at the top, and that feels pretty good,” Thompson said. “I've got to be honest about that.”
Thompson's father was touched by the rare show of emotion.
“He analyzes and calculates about what he wants to do,” the elder Thompson said. “Once he's come to a conclusion, he's very difficult to change, whereas I would probably have acted on my first impulse. I get a kick out of it.”
While father and son are different in many ways, there are also common threads. Leaving his office at the end of the interview - during which he reluctantly listed some of his superstitions - Thompson looked at a large framed photo on the wall and pointed out one of his father's rituals.
“He always wore a blue shirt during games - I think all the way back to coaching high school,” Thompson said. “A lot of people never noticed that.”
When he emerges at Verizon Center before tip-off, he always stops to high-five or somehow acknowledge the same three kids - Michael, Megan and Matthew - who just happen to have seats by the tunnel that leads to the locker room.
During the game, he has to have a blue marker for drawing plays.
“The managers learn that quickly,” he said. “I don't want black. I don't want green.”
And, several times during an interview with The Associated Press in his office, Thompson answers questions while literally knocking on wood - specifically the table that was next to his chair.
“Am I superstitious?” he said. “Yes. Very.”
So are a lot of coaches. They are creatures of routine. Do the same thing the same way over and over. It helps focus on the present and ignore the outside distractions. The next opponent, in theory at least, is all that is supposed to matter.
That's where Thompson takes the prize. Many coaches preach one game at a time, but Thompson epitomizes the cliche as well as anyone. It's usually a hopeless case to try to get him to analyze the big picture, look down the road or sum up the season to date. Whether it's superstition or a life-with-blinders-on mentality, he is always very much in the now.
“That's how I've been programmed,” Thompson said. “It is important to have tunnel vision. It is important to focus on the next game. Because in this industry, in this day and age, it's easy to get splintered. It's easy to start to wander.”
If Thompson did allow his mind to wander, he would have much to contemplate.
He has done a stellar job in three seasons on the Hilltop. The Hoyas returned this season to the AP top 10 for the first time in six years and will be the top seed in this week's Big East tournament for the first time since 1989. He has persevered under the weight of expectations at a school that got used to success over the decades - with another coach named Thompson.
But the current Thompson would prefer to strike that paragraph, at least while the season is in progress. Certainly, he would want his players to ignore it.
“They definitely hear from me: 'Don't listen to people,”' Thompson said. “Walking in the door the first year, people were saying this is going to be rough. We didn't listen then, and so we don't when people are saying the exact opposite.”
Thompson was “programmed” that way through two primary sources: his Hall of Fame father and the Ivy League.
“Maybe it's a trait growing up in the house where I did,” said Thompson, son of the man who won the 1984 national title and 596 games during 27 seasons at Georgetown. “There were always negative articles being written, negative things being said about our dad. So at a young age, you learn to tune things out - quickly.”
The one-game-at-a-time mind-set was further honed at Princeton, where Thompson spent more than a dozen years as a player, assistant coach and head coach.
“In the Ivy League, every game is a playoff game because there is no postseason tournament,” Thompson said. “In that environment, you do learn that every game is urgent. If you beat Penn on Tuesday and lose to Dartmouth on Saturday, you have one loss in the league and that could end up costing you the league” title.
Although he doesn't often lose focus, Thompson allowed the facade to drop for a few moments Saturday, following a victory over Connecticut that clinched first place in the Big East. The coach said he even thought about cutting down the nets with his wife and children.
“The regular season is over, and we're sitting at the top, and that feels pretty good,” Thompson said. “I've got to be honest about that.”
Thompson's father was touched by the rare show of emotion.
“He analyzes and calculates about what he wants to do,” the elder Thompson said. “Once he's come to a conclusion, he's very difficult to change, whereas I would probably have acted on my first impulse. I get a kick out of it.”
While father and son are different in many ways, there are also common threads. Leaving his office at the end of the interview - during which he reluctantly listed some of his superstitions - Thompson looked at a large framed photo on the wall and pointed out one of his father's rituals.
“He always wore a blue shirt during games - I think all the way back to coaching high school,” Thompson said. “A lot of people never noticed that.”
The Citizens' Say
There are No comments posted.