Butler Goes Down Its Way

Terrific article from Yahoo Sports Dan Wetzel about teammates helping each other after a difficult lose:

HOUSTON – Shawn Vanzant sat in the corner of the Butler locker room, sobbing, his teammates said, at an almost uncontrollable level. Next to him was Matt Howard, a towel draped over his head, the tears coming just as hard.

Together, the two seniors had shot 3 for 23, an absolutely abysmal, crushing performance in the biggest game of their lives. Connecticut was outside clipping the national championship nets. In here it was just hell, the aftermath of a great team gone bad – 12-of-64 shooting, a record-low 18.8 percent from the floor, losing 53-41, the fewest total points in a title game since the shot clock was invented.

Vanzant thought it was his fault. Howard felt no better.

And that’s when Ronald Nored, eyes red and tear-filled as well, noticed his teammates, got up, crossed the locker room and reminded everyone what this entire pursuit is about.

He pulled Shawn Vanzant up off his stool and hugged his friend, physically and emotionally attempting to lift him out of his depression. After a few seconds, Nored stepped over to Howard and did the same.

And soon enough, his teammates followed.

One after the other, from the freshmen to the managers, from the benchwarmers to the starters, every last Butler Bulldog was taking a moment to remind each other, particularly those bottomed-out seniors, that this was about a lot more than some basketball game.

“It [was] hard for me to watch; it’s hard for me to talk about,” coach Brad Stevens said of the scene, his voice catching and his eyes watering behind his glasses.

“But it’s the best part of the story.”

The story of Butler, the one that’s captured underdog hearts for two consecutive NCAA tournaments, was always about a group finding a way to be better than its individual parts.

The Bulldogs were a family, they said. They were a brotherhood, they reminded. They believed they could reach back-to-back NCAA title games when there was no logical reason to think such a thing was possible. This is what all kinds of teams say, of course. And it’s easy to be a family when the shots are falling and victories are piling up and you’re shocking the world night after night. It’s another when you take the grandest stage in college basketball and proceed to experience a failure of historic proportions.

Butler hit just 3 of 31 shots inside the arc. It made just six baskets in each half. At one point, the Bulldogs missed 13 in a row. They clanked open shots and blew gimmes they make in their sleep. As much credit as the long-armed Huskies’ defense deserves, in the back of every Bulldogs’ mind was the thought that they gave this away by playing the worst game of their lives at the worst possible moment.

“All the people who played in the game think they let us down,” Stevens said. “And that’s ridiculous.”

That’s also when everything gets tested. Butler blew it and that’s when fingers tend to get pointed and playing time gets questioned and selfishness can rise up. If only he had made that lay-up. If only he had knocked down that open jumper.

“It’s very easy to just think about yourself and be frustrated in the situation,” Howard said.

Instead, the Bulldogs showed all the talk was real. They did it one hug after the next. One whispered “I love you” after another. One pat on the back and look into the eye and honest bit of concern.

The harder some cried, the harder the rest worked to ease the pain. Stevens stood in that locker room, took it all in and saw the kind of miracle for which coaches strive – collective support in the lowest and rawest of moments. Kids caring about kids. Perspective and purpose on display. It may not get you a clipped net, but that’s some kind of championship in itself.

“Hard, hard to put into words,” Stevens said, his voice trailing a bit.

“It’s probably the great thing about sports,” assistant coach Matthew Graves said.

Nored said he never hesitated. Once he noticed Vanzant in such a state, the game didn’t matter. Only his friend did.

“That’s what we’re here for, we’re here for each other,” Nored said. “In the big picture, who really cares about basketball? It’s about the guys in this locker room. I wanted Shawn to know we don’t really care that his shot didn’t go in; we care about him.”

Howard, just a half-hour later, could only marvel at the entire thing. Butler had come to win the title on Monday, but when he gathered the team pregame in the tunnel, he told everyone to forget what was at stake.

“Don’t think about the national championship,” he shouted. “This is our last time playing together.”

With that, the Bulldogs broke huddle and sprinted out into the dome. A couple hours later, his message meant more than ever. The national championship was gone. The appreciation of playing together was not. He couldn’t hide under that towel after the game. His teammates wouldn’t let him.

“[They] come over and give you a hug and tell [you] how much [they] love [you] and appreciate [you] and that is what this team is about,” Howard said.

“It’s really uplifting because no matter the result, they want to be a part of this team and that is all that’s on their mind. They want to pick you up. “It’s a special group. That’s the only reason we’ve been able to do what we have.”

They talk a lot about the “Butler Way” around here, although no one has a specific definition of it. Mostly it’s about being selfless, not caring who gets the points or the headlines or the accolades. Here on the night of a bitter, bitter defeat, Brad Stevens was reminded it can mean a whole lot more than that.

“You know if someone has to go 12 of 64 and lose that game and do it that way,” he said, “these guys have the character to handle that.”

The game had been a nightmare. The embarrassment of all those misses will linger. The frustration of so many good players failing to make simple shots will haunt them. But it won’t happen alone. Not with these guys. Not after Ronald Nored hugged Shawn Vanzant in the corner of that locker room and just wouldn’t let go

Attitude adjustment sets Butler on another magical Final Four ride

Great article in the Chicago Tribune about how Butler overcame a tough losing streak during the season through a change in their overall attitude:

Butler's frustration mounted so high that Stevens sensed the need to do what good coaches do. He let his players take ownership of their team in a way necessary for it to grow. But before turning over the meeting that changed their season, Stevens told everyone he needed to improve too. That's when senior Zach Hahn actually shouted at his coach. "I had had enough at that point and yelled, with a few choice words, 'It's not about what you guys are doing, we've got to be better,' " Hahn said. "

Everybody agreed.

" Everybody agreed that a team built on attitude needed an adjustment and that the mid-major powerhouse had developed a major ego problem.


"We kind of got the big head a little bit," Mack said. "We had to get people back to doing things we'd been doing."

Butler hasn't lost since.

"Our whole thing when you come to Butler is it's not about you," guard Ronald Nored said. "The focus is sacrificing everything for your teammates, your school and each other."

Butler Way isn't just an access road in front of some academic buildings. It's the aw-shucks, almost corny method Stevens has used to attract fundamentally sound players and build a program special enough to be the first non-power-conference school to reach back-to-back Final Fours since UNLV in 1990-91.

"It's not brain surgery," Stevens said. "You can buy a book, you can read about it. People know what the critical components of success are. Everybody in every business and every industry talks about values, mission and vision. The key is holding to them."

The line at the souvenir store inside Hinkle Fieldhouse snaked out the door. One older couple made sure to remind me that the Milan High team immortalized in "Hoosiers" lost in the 1953 Final Four the year before winning the state title. That's the script they see their Bulldogs following this weekend. On the court, as players met the media, fans of all ages took pictures and sought autographs considered priceless in a state that loves God, corn and basketball — not necessarily in that order.

"One of our core principles in our locker room is humility," Stevens said. "If you don't have that, you're not here. You've got to respect everybody."

Somebody mentioned to Stevens that he has gained enough respect to be compared to Mike Krzyzewski and Roy Williams. It's deserved praise but dangerous too. Around here, they would take losing Stevens harder than losing to VCU.

"That's nice for people to say, but like I tell our team, 'You're only good if you're good today,'" Stevens said. "We also say, 'You're good if you play good. You're great if you do that every day.' "

It would be great for college basketball if Butler won it all playing by these rules, especially in a sport where so many coaches make their own rules.


When Stevens reflected on the pivotal Youngstown State loss, he remembered telling Howard that the three-game losing streak would be "the most valuable thing you took from Butler."

Stevens also recalled the cartoon his coach at DePauw University, Bill Fenlon, sent to encourage him through the rough patch. It's an image of a dejected superhero sitting alone under a palm tree on a deserted island. The thought bubble read, "Oh, yeah, I can fly."

"That was kind of the way we were," Stevens said. "We had the ability but we were down. We weren't far from being good. It's easy to get caught up in the negatives, but they didn't. That is the most rewarding thing about this team."

Poise & Great Communication

Here is an excerpt from a New York Times article on Butler coach Brad Stevens: "Sometimes we'll be in the huddle during a tight game and look up at coach Stevens and he's just so calm," senior Zach Hahn said. "You wonder 'How's he doing that?' But it definitely has an effect on everyone else. We don't get rattled easily." Butler sophomore Chase Stigall said Stevens is a master of motivation, with an ability to mold his style to fit different players. When the Bulldogs were on a three-game losing streak in February — something unheard of for many of the players on the current roster — Stigall said Stevens didn't panic or do anything desperate. He just did what he does best, communicate. "He has a different way with every player," Stigall said. "When he's tuning into a certain player, he has a different way of treating each guy. He knows that my high school coach was a yeller, and he knows that I can be yelled at and that's how I respond the best. Other people can't respond to that — and he knows it."

'The Butler Way'

Good article this morning in the Chicago Tribune on the Butler men's basketball team, who despite being a 'mid-major' have made 8 NCAA tournament appearances in the last 12 years including 2 Sweet-Sixteen appearances.

So what is 'The Butler Way'? According to Matt Howard, who turned down several major schools such as Purdue, Indiana, and Xavier so he could be a part of Butler's program, it's all about accountability.

"It's just being accountable on every possession," said sophomore forward Matt Howard, voted Horizon League player of the year. "We feel like each guy has a job to do on every play, and you count on teammates to do that job every single time.

"The other thing is playing unselfish. You never let the 'me' get over the 'we.' It's so important, and that's a big part of what we do."

Says coach Brad Stevens:

"You just concentrate on recruiting the right people to represent you, not only on the court but in the classroom also," Stevens said. "There are values we try to adhere to, and you want people who are willing to think and work in terms of those values."