LOUISVILLE, Kentucky – David Velasquez pored over one film cut after another more than he cares to remember. A week between games might as well be measured in dog years for an assistant coach looking for a small advantage to edge out the No. 1 overall spot and lead his team to their first regional finals. Velasquez, who made his name as a San Diego men’s basketball manager 21 years ago, got some tips from Alabama’s game against Houston in December. A week later, he took a few clues from the Gonzaga game. But he kept coming back to Alabama’s February game against Tennessee, a stone fight the Volunteers eventually won. Rick Barnes’ plans seemed to jibe best with things the Aztecs could copy.
Velasquez shared his thoughts with his team, talking about how he didn’t want them to worry as much when Alabama’s guards were going downhill, how he wanted to use gap defense because guarding the Crimson Tide one-on-one was a fool’s gold, and how crucial would it be to harass and harass Alabama’s backcourt to create a small disruption. The players listened and they understood. They always do. San Diego State drills consist of three defensive parts and one offensive part. So it wasn’t like Velasquez, head coach Brian Dutcher’s de facto defense coordinator, was asking anyone to hang the moon here.
But after processing all the nuggets, memorizing the scouts and watching the film, the Aztecs together came to a very simple conclusion. “I mean, Tennessee is really good,” Darrion Trammell said with a shrug, “but Alabama had never seen anything like us.” As the tide rolled out of the NCAA tournament, thanks to a 71-64 lunchtime money-steal -Butt-Whupping and San Diego State danced to their first Elite Eight, it seems a fair assessment.
Alabama and Brandon Miller’s complicated run, both program and player, which was dogged by questions about his involvement in an off-campus shooting, ended with a whimper. After what was likely to be the final field goal attempt of Miller’s career, his 16th missed shot on a most memorable night, slipped the rim, the tide made for a quick exit while the Aztecs ran happily, if not dizzily, across the field. “Are you kidding me?” a fan in the small but powerful gathering of San Diego State believers shouted out to no one in particular. “Did that just happen?” He seemed to be the only one in red and black feigning surprise. When asked if his team had just caused an upset, Trammell smiled widely and didn’t answer. “Oh man, I mean, they’re a very good team,” said the tiny guard, who dropped 21 on the tide. “But hey, it’s March.”
Call it what you want. That much is clear. Alabama didn’t lose. It was beaten. Really bullied – pushed around, nudged, blocked and pushed out. The physicality of the Aztecs transformed a team stocked with NBA talent that played with an air of defiance that might border on arrogance and muted through an otherwise frenetic NCAA tournament first weekend a bunch of naysayers. In every apartment block in San Diego State – and there were eight – they asked for a whistle. With each turnover, they plaintively stretch out their arms, wondering where the call came from. “I don’t know if we were exactly on their minds,” says Aguek Arop, senior of the Aztecs, “but you can tell we were bothering them.”
The Aztecs are not like little gnats that annoy; more like a dive bomb from vultures. Alabama could do nothing. Velazquez interfered in three things – he limited the Crimson Tide’s work on the arc, forced turnovers and hit the boards. Check (Alabama was 3 of 27 of 3), Check (14 turnovers) and Check (a near push, 52-48 tide advantage). San Diego State all but neutralized Charles Bediako, tricked Miller into six turnovers, and when Jahvon Quinerly closed his eyes Friday night, he likely saw Mensah’s meaty claw come down to block another shot. In the middle of the game, the big man actually called his guards together and ordered them to direct Quinerly left to his second hand. “Let him get to the edge,” Mensah said. “I thought I could handle him.” Mensah had five blocks, four of them on Quinerly’s head.
“They were very physical, going from one to five pretty accurately,” said Alabama forward Noah Clowney. “The physicality didn’t kill us but they put a lot of ball pressure on us and we turned it over. We were simply outplayed.”
That, at its core, is the essence of San Diego State’s success. Coaches understand their program’s place in the college basketball hierarchy and seek out players who want to work harder than everyone else. “You can’t pretend you want to play defense,” says Trammell. “You have to want to work at it.” But the fine art of defense isn’t necessarily appreciated; Crime is easier to understand. Ball in the basket is equally good. There is no lipstick for this particular pig. The Aztecs can be difficult to observe. They hurt rims.
GO DEEPER
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In its last five games, dating back to the Mountain West tournament, San Diego State’s offensive rating has hovered in the 37th percentile and its pace of play has hovered at an anemic 11th percentile. They had 13 points with eight minutes left in Friday’s first half.
And yet Dutcher stood with his hands on his hips as if contemplating a beautiful work of art while Alabama coach Nate Oats flailed his arms and hopped around. A student of Steve Fisher, Dutcher long ago willingly traded pretty offense for brutal defense, believing that if a team could stop their opponent scoring, they could always keep the game close enough to have a chance . “It’s almost a consolation,” says Velasquez. “We know the defense will always be there no matter what.”
San Diego State’s pressure defense was too much for the tide. (Andy Lyons/Getty Images)
But the coaches are also smart enough to know that not everyone else has their trust. “I believe. I believe that. I believe we’re going to win,” has been the motto for years of The Show, the entertaining audience of San Diego State’s student section, copying the phrase from US football fans. Let’s face it. Outside On the beaches of San Diego, nobody believed much in SDSU this year “Choose us to lose to Charleston, didn’t think we could beat Furman,” says senior guard Matt Bradley, seen at their pre-game press conferences Thursday the Aztecs faced more outsider questions than the number 16.
So, as the saying goes, they lean in. Call us the underdogs, we play like them. Tell us we can’t, we will. Hate our defense, we’ll at least make you appreciate it.
Dutcher’s wife, Janet, visited the Muhammad Ali Center here this week and sent her husband a few screen shots of what she thought were the hunk’s quotes. Dutcher handed them out to his team like candy. He leaned on the hallway of a locker room and pulled out his phone to share with a reporter. He laughed that there was no way to remember them. “A price war is like a war; the real part is won or lost… behind the line, in the gym, and out here on the street long before I dance under these lights.” That was Thursday’s nugget.
“I think I can do it, and I’m doing it. Trust. Trust. Every man wants to be defined. Everyone wants to believe in themselves; Every man wants to be fearless.” That was the message before the tip. Bradley was asked about the motivational tactic. He couldn’t remember the words verbatim. “But I know there’s something about being fearless,” he said. “I remember that part.”
(Top photo of Keshad Johnson, right, and Miles Byrd: Rob Carr/Getty Images)