Here are some portions in an article from ESPN The Magazine about the communication system that Duke has out on the floor & the importance of talking in their program:--------------------------------------
Eye contact -- they're big on that. Coach K does it too, from the first time he meets a recruit. Squaring up, he promises always to tell the kid the way it is, about his game, about his life, no matter what. And he demands that every one of his players at Duke do the same: Find the eyes; tell the truth.
It's disorienting and, frankly, a bit weird. But if Mike Krzyzewski says the point is to promote an open dialogue, you can't really argue, even if it can freak out a newbie. Let's be honest: If anyone outside of the team's practice facility were to address a player with such unflinching eye-to-eye contact, he'd likely be asking, "Do you know how fast you were going?"
But disconcerting or not, that's how Blue Devils interact off the court. On it, though, blinded by screens, pivots and defenders' waving hands, they can't rely on eye contact. So they resort to a mode of communication that is equally unrelenting: a steady stream of old-school chatter.
In games, practices and open gyms, the Dukies' yelping -- "Ball, ball!," "You're good there," "I got it," "Shoot it" -- is no different from what spews from your standard-issue pickup hooper. It's just way more intense. It draws attention to oncoming screens, but also affirms every pass and shot, encourages every defensive gamble. It announces their solidarity. "When you talk all the time, you will recognize a voice in a chaotic situation," Krzyzewski says. "It builds strength."
To a Devil, hostile invective, intrusive whistles and sneaker squeaks are white noise; teammates' chirps are the real sound track of the game. To opponents, that sound track is like a death knell. "The chatter empowers them," says Virginia Tech coach Seth Greenberg. "Combine it with their talent, and it's pretty imposing."
Krzyzewski calls this grating-to-others blah-blah-blahing the lifeblood of his program, one of its building blocks: offense, defense, talk. And of his four title teams, 2010's may have been the one most dependent on it. "Last year they talked better than anyone we played," says North Carolina's Roy Williams. "They also talked more consistently than any Duke team in the seven years I've been back in the ACC." All that verbosity was evidence of a veteran squad finally buying Krzyzewski's well-worn creed; "The beauty in our sport comes when five are playing as one, and five can't play as one unless they're talking to one another"
"You're teaching them a language," Krzyzewski says. "You just can't say, 'All you guys need to talk.' You have to teach them how."
"The coaches' thing is, if you're not talking, you're into yourself," Smith says. "Talking gets you thinking about the game." Problem is, extroversion isn't generally an instinctive response to screwing up. "Guys aren't good talkers inherently," Krzyzewski says. "By talking, you open up your inside to the team." Few All-Americas want to draw attention to an ego-shredding error, but Coach K will tell you that's when teammates need to hear you the most. "What talk does is return you to the moment," he says. "It clears your head."
