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Experts praise Olympic gymnast Simone Biles’ mental health honesty: ‘Conversation is critical’

Paul Doyle

CTInsider.com

July 31, 2021

Simone Biles stepped away from Olympic competition and into a debate about what it requires to thrive at a high level of athletics.

Biles, citing mental health concerns, withdrew after struggling on her vault Tuesday. Support came from all corners, but Biles has also been forced to explain and defend her decision.

On Friday morning, the most talented gymnast in the world used her Instagram account to further explain her decision.

“For anyone saying I quit … I didn’t quit,” she wrote while answering questions on her Instagram story. “My mind & body are simply not in sync.

“I don’t think you realize how dangerous this is on hard/competition surface. … nor do I have to explain why I put health first. Physical health is mental health.”

And that’s at the center of Biles’ decision. Her sport requires peak concentration. Any psychological or emotional disruption can result in disastrous — even dangerous — results.

Biles, 24, has talked about the pressure associated with being the face of her team, her sport, and the Tokyo Olympics. The four-time gold medal winner at the 2016 Olympics, Biles carried enormous expectations into Tokyo.

She has also dealt with trauma. Biles shared three years ago that she was abused by former USA Gymnastics team doctor Larry Nassar.

The other component? The Tokyo Olympics, delayed for a year because of the pandemic, are unfolding in empty venues. Athletes accustomed to performing before large crowds and with the support of nearby family are competing in isolation.

However the factors mixed, Biles was not in an optimal mental or emotional place.

So she stepped away.

“She made a very common sense decision,” said Stamford clinical psychologist Reid Daitzman, who has worked with athletes for more than 40 years. “Her mind and body were just not prepared for what she wanted to do. And she could have really hurt herself. I really respect her for the decision. I can’t imagine what it was like making that decision. But you really have to be aware of your body. A good athlete is always aware of their body.”

Daitzman said an athlete’s “optimal level of arousal” is the unique place where emotions during performance and competition are high — but not too high.

Biles, Daitzman speculates, knew her OLA was off.

“She made the correct decision not to proceed even though people who have never been exposed to that level might have said no, you’ve got to keep doing it,” he said.

Greenwich sports psychologist Amy Tardio, who works with college athletes at all levels, said athletes who reach Biles’ level recognize when they are mentally or emotionally distracted.

Athletes competing in a team sport can rely on others to compensate when they are not at peak form. But gymnastics, in particular, is a lonely venture — and it’s unsafe to compete if the mind and body are not aligned.

“You have a sport where the consequences and the degree of difficulty of her performance have catastrophic consequences if she’s not mentally there,” Tardio said. “So I think we have to respect her as an individual, as well. And I think that’s one of the issues with mental health — each individual, each individual athlete … Everyone's different. Everyone is human.”

How do athletes recognize when pressure and stress is unbearable?

Dawn Shadron, UConn’s director of student-athlete counseling and mental health services, said the school’s staff works to identify signs of distress.

“Our work focuses on identifying the source of their anxiety or stress and breaking it down into manageable chunks of information and examining what is and what isn’t in one’s control,” Shadron said. “We work to develop effective coping mechanisms to use ‘in the moment’ and identify additional supports the athlete can utilize while taking those next steps.”

Daitzman began working with athletes in an era when sports psychology was in its infancy. His client list has grown from high school and college athletes to professional athletes and those training for the Olympics.

Fast forward from his work in the late 1970s to a time when the conversation about “sports psychology” extends beyond performance. Mental health — the impact of competition and preparation and pressure — is very much part of the conversation.

“We’ve come a long way,” he said.

Said Tardio, “The conversation is critical. And I think the athletes and their peers are embracing it … the conversation alone is probably a first. These are very strong, successful, accomplished, determined athletes that are opening up these conversations and they’re willing to stand there and even feel the backlash of what that means.”

Shadron said that while the focus on mental health has increased over the past decade, the sports world remains at the “earlier stages of this discussion.”

“Fortunately the voices of these prominent athletes have amplified and advanced those discussions in important ways,” she said.

Indeed, Biles is just the latest high-profile athlete to speak about mental health. Naomi Osaka, one of the top tennis players in the world, cited her emotional health when she withdrew from the French Open and skipped Wimbledon. Michael Phelps, the most accomplished swimmer in Olympic history, has talked openly about depression.

Former UConn basketball player Breanna Stewart, among the best in the world, praised Biles for speaking out.

“Mental health is real and making sure that you’re in a good mental state of mind isn’t always the easiest thing,” Stewart said. “And especially here at the Olympics, you see that everything is heightened. The pressure is heightened, the pride is heightened, the wanting to represent your country and do everything you possibly can do to win is everywhere. I think for us as athletes we feel that and it’s making sure we have a happy balance.”

The change is immense, especially among the best of the best — Biles, Osaka, Phelps and Stewart have reached the highest level in their sports.

“Simone Biles has recognized her power and utilized her voice and her visibility on this world platform in a way that is inspiring and empowering others,” Shadron said. “The more that professional athletes can lead and live by example reduces stigma and promotes the importance of attending to one’s mental health as we do our physical health.”

The shift is generational. Shadron works with a population of athletes comfortable speaking about mental health, people who prioritize the emotional component of athletics.

“Discussion of mental wellness, good nutrition, coping mechanisms for managing stress, having a good sleep plan, good study habits, creates a sense of normalcy and supports a culture of well-being,” Shadron said. “The earlier we engage in healthy discussions about thoughts, feelings, and behaviors, the better.”

paul.doyle@hearstmediact.com

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‘What America is’: Sports world reacts to Capitol attack, historic week

Paul Doyle

CT Insider

Jan. 9, 2021

For many of the women in the WNBA, it was a dizzying 48 hours.

On Tuesday, Democrat Raphael Warnock defeated incumbent Republican Kelly Loeffler in Georgia’s U.S. Senate runoff. Players visibly and vocally supported Warnock over the conservative Loeffler, co-owner of the Atlanta Dream.

But the sense of accomplishment was tempered the next day, when a mob of Donald Trump loyalists stormed the U.S. Capitol building. At least one brandished a confederate flag.

“One breath, you want to celebrate … But then you can’t,” said Connecticut Sun veteran DeWanna Bonner. “What happened in Washington DC and all the killings (of Black Americans) ... My head is kind of all over the place.”

Bonner, a Black woman from Alabama, saw race at the center of the Capitol events. She’s not alone.

The visuals of a mostly white crowd overwhelming police to storm the legislative building contrasted with images of Black Lives Matter protesters greeted with armed forced. Activists have noted a double standard in how the groups were treated by security.

The reaction from the sports world?

“We live in two Americas,” LeBron James said.

Philadelphia 76ers coach Doc Rivers said, “Could you imagine today, if those were all Black people storming the Capitol, and what would have happened?”

The sentiments are echoed throughout Connecticut, too — from high school coaches to college athletes to the professional basketball players at Mohegan Sun.

WNBA LEADING TO CHANGE

The WNBA has long been at the front of social causes, but the league’s players raised their activism to another level while competing in the Bradenton, Fla. bubble last summer. Players spoke out after the killings of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, standing firmly behind the Black Lives Matter movement.

Loeffler, Atlanta’s co-owner since 2011, is a strong Trump supporter. In July, she expressed concern with the league’s support of BLM in a letter to league commissioner Cathy Engelbert.

The response from the players? They began wearing “Vote Warnock” shirts at games and raised money for his campaign. Players across the league donned the shirts and Warnock’s poll numbers steadily climbed.

Warnock wound up prevailing in a runoff, which helped tip the power in the Senate as Democrat Jon Ossoff defeated incumbent Republican David Perdue in Georgia’s other runoff.

“It was such a happy moment for him and for our league, as well,” Bonner said. “We did a great job of speaking out when we heard about what was going on in the race. We knew immediately who we wanted to support. Everybody wore those shirts on game days — there were some big games that week and we wanted to make sure that people saw us.

“We stand by what we believe in and it showed the powerful impact that we can make.”

Players celebrated the victory on social media. UConn’s Renee Montgomery, who played with Atlanta but opted out of the 2020 season as she focused on social justice reform, tweeted: “In 2019, I didn’t know what to call @ReverendWarnock because he was a Dr and a Pastor. Now I gotta add Senator to the list. Congrats to Dr Pastor Senator Warnock!”

James tweeted, “Think I’m gone put together an ownership group for the The Dream. Whose in?” and Montgomery responded, “I’m ready when you are.”

And it’s worth noting that James’ tweet received a long list of responses, including an emphatic “In” from former tennis great and Fairfield product James Blake. Meanwhile, Montgomery told TMZ she’s serious about an ownership bid — although there is no indication Loeffler is selling.

The WNBA is being cited for its impact on the election, but the support for Warnock — and rejection of Loeffler — is just another example of the league’s players using their platform. Independent of the Georgia race, players were leading the sports world in speaking out about racial injustice last year.

“Just more recognition for the work that they’re doing,” said Connecticut Sun vice president Amber Cox, who has worked in the league for 13 years. “If you think back to the Pride platform and the support of the LGBTQ community, the WNBA was really the first to do that. It’s been happening. But the result of being in a bubble situation where you had all the players together, allowed them to come together and it was obviously just a defining moment in our history … all things kind of culminated.

“These women are so courageous and smart and, obviously, strategic the way they go about things. It’s been wonderful to see them get the recognition for all the work that they have been doing.”

New Haven native Bria Holmes said the season was dedicated to making voices heard.

“And clearly they were heard,” she said. “Just voicing our opinion on things that haven’t been going well, I think it opened people’s eyes to a lot of things. … Women are a huge part of the world. With our voices, we can do a lot. It’s not just the men. We can continue to do great things.”

Said Bonner, “People are listening. Women’s basketball has an opportunity to be at the forefront of sports. … Last summer, we spoke up and spoke out about our true feelings. We’re outspoken. We don’t hold our tongues for anything. People are learning more about us as women, about our culture, and what we believe in, and that we’re more than just basketball players.”

Yet Bonner, an 11-year veteran, said she was shook by what she witnessed Wednesday. The joy of Warnock’s victory quickly evaporated.

“It’s a scary time,” she said. “It’s kind of like, let me make sure my family is home and safe because you never know what can happen right now. It’s just such a sad time for us, especially for Blacks in this world right now.”

Holmes said she was at a loss for words to describe how she felt Wednesday. But she does believe the “outcome would’ve been totally different” had a majority of the protesters been Black.

‘PUSHING FOR UNITY’

UConn freshman Paige Bueckers figures to have a future in the WNBA, yet she has already used her voice — she marched in her home state of Minnesota after Floyd’s death.

Asked Friday about the WNBA and the state of the country, Bueckers said she is impressed that the league and the players use their platform to spread their message.

“Everything that they do, they’re trying to make this world a better and more equal place,” Bueckers said. “That’s what we need right now — equality and justice, equal treatment for everybody regarding race. It’s just sad to see the inequalities in the world.

“If we just treated each other how we wanted to be treated, it would be a much better place. It’s just sad to see the stuff that’s going on in the world, the hate and the division that we have. The WNBA is just pushing for unity and togetherness. I just think that’s really big and what the world needs right now.”

Buecker is white, but her younger brother Drew is Black and she spoke over the summer about their conversations pertaining to his race.

“I’m scared for him,” she said over the summer. “I’m scared for myself because that’s my little brother. He’s my best friend, really. I’m really close to him. Having that fear, that one wrong judgment and his life could be on the line, it’s super scary and it’s something I want to help change.”

UConn junior Christyn Williams, another player with WNBA aspirations, expressed her support for Black Lives Matter on her social media accounts last summer.

“I’m definitely excited to be a part of the WNBA one day because they represent something bigger than themselves,” she said. “We’re people too. They show that as an example every time something happens or just in general. I think they’re doing a great job with that.”

CONNECTICUT REACTION

The events at the Capitol were jarring for athletes and coaches across the state.

Wilbur Cross basketball coach Kevin Walton conducts a weekly Zoom call with his players, his opportunity to check on his team while the season remains paused by the COVID-19 pandemic.

On Wednesday night, Walton asked his players about the events that unfolded at the Capitol.

“One of the players said one of the differences (from the Black Lives Matter protests) was they were treated differently because they were white, but he was reluctant to say it at first,” Walton said. “I told him you can always say what you feel. We want the kids to formulate their own opinions.”

Walton, a community activist who participated in protests after the killing of Floyd by a Minneapolis police officer in May, said he was “appalled” by the way Capitol police and law enforcement reacted to the mob that stormed the legislative building.

“It sends a message that they didn’t take these white nationalists and terrorists to be as scary or as threatening as the Black Lives Matter protests,” Walton said.

Hillhouse football coach Reggie Lytle, who stayed up until 4 a.m. Thursday watching news coverage of the events, retired in 2013 as a lieutenant after a 25-year career in the state Department of Corrections.

Like Walton, he was stunned by the lack of security at the Capitol. Lytle contrasted what took place Wednesday with his own experience at the Million Man March on the National Mall in 1995. He estimates there were thousands of law enforcement at the march, “and you turn on the TV (Wednesday) and see only 500 Capitol Police?”

Lytle also said he felt “real sick” upon learning that a Capitol police officer was killed in the incident. He experienced riots during his time in the corrections department.

“To lose an officer to a beat down makes me feel I didn’t do my job,” he said. “It angers me even more to learn the President of the United States provoked this action. This invokes hate and invokes retaliation. I am old enough to know to fall to my knees and pray. This is what (Colin) Kapernick was doing.”

Lytle said he encountered racism as a member of Hillhouse’s 1985 state championship team and he sees his players faced with the same now. “Not much has changed,” he said.

His view of what happened at the Capitol?

“I’m not surprised at all,” Lytle said. “Especially since they announced they were going to do it. We have a saying: There it goes again. When we say that, in our community, we all know what that means. It’s white privilege. There’s no other way to look at it. White privilege.

“…My kids know. They could simply stand on the corner waiting for their girlfriend, and then the cops roll up and they get grilled. Meanwhile, you have people going to the Capitol and nobody’s stopping them.”

Walton, too, was not surprised.

“When President-elect (Joe) Biden comes on and says, ‘This isn’t America’ … this is exactly what America is,” Walton said. “Storming the Capitol building, acting in a violent manner, that is exactly who we are. … What bothered me the most is the people acting out were every-day people. There weren’t any billionaires out there (Wednesday). Those were people waiting for their stimulus checks, people who need Obamacare.”

This discussions between players and coaches unfolded at all levels last week.

At Quinnipiac, men’s basketball coach Baker Dunleavy said his team talked about the insurrection on Thursday.

“I think in general young people are very socially aware,” Dunleavy said. “They’re educated. They pay attention. They read. They’ve got social media at their fingertips. The players shared some of their individual thoughts and opinions.

“When we look at that day in our history, we’ll look back on a very dark day, an unfortunate and really embarrassing day in our country. We talked a little bit that there are some people out there who are similar to those we saw on camera and feel the way they feel. For a lot of people, it’s convenient for them to pretend that doesn’t exist. We have less ability to look the other way, that that sentiment isn’t something that existed just back in the 1960s.”

[paul-doyle]

Activists See Michael Sam's Declaration As A Positive

By PAUL DOYLE/The Hartford Courant

Feb 10, 2014

As NFL observers speculate on how Michael Sam will survive inside a professional football locker room, consider the way the openly gay senior was treated by his Missouri teammates over the past six months.

Sam came out to the world Sunday night, but he told his team he was gay in August. The Tigers and their defensive leader went on to complete one of the great seasons in school history, winning 12 games and finishing No. 5 in the national rankings.

While Sam earned SEC defensive player of the year, he was embraced by his teammates and news of his sexuality was never leaked to the media.

A distraction? Not in Columbia, Mo.

"It's another example of what we've been saying for years now, which is that you can be an out, gay athlete," said Patrick Burke, co-founder of the You Can Play Project. "Whether you're male or female, whether it's collegiate, high school, pro … the sports world is more welcoming than people think. Now Michael is living proof of that."

Burke's organization was formed in memory of his late brother Brendan, who came out to the Miami (Ohio) hockey team that he served as team manager for. Brendan Burke, son of former Hartford Whalers general manager Brian Burke, died in a car accident in 2010.

It was Brendan Burke's experience with the Miami hockey team that inspired his brother to help form You Can Play as a vehicle to educate and end homophobia in sports. What Patrick Burke has found is a far more open, welcoming community than outsiders might suspect.

Case in point: Sam, who came out as he prepares to embark on a career in the NFL. Not long after Sam made his announcement Sunday evening, talk centered on how he will be accepted by teammates and whether teams would be willing to take on the perceived "distraction" his presence will bring.

An SI.com story quoted anonymous NFL personnel types expressing skepticism about Sam. His draft status — Sam was pegged as a third-to-fifth round prospect for the April draft — reportedly is slipping, not because of what he offers as a player but because of the potential fallout of having an openly gay player in the locker room.

"When people talk about, 'Well, he's going to be a distraction, he's going to be a problem', well, he wasn't for Missouri," Burke said. "He was team leader, his teammates responded to him, and when he came out, his team rallied around him. So I think that's a great example of what can happen when coaches and players show leadership and support their teammates."

Professional athletes in team sports have come out after their careers ended, and NBA player Jason Collins came out last year, but he has not played this season. Sam would be the first openly gay player in one of the major team sports if he is on an NFL roster next fall.

And while some executives don't seem so welcoming — Sports Illustrated's Peter King reports one general manager said he doesn't think Sam will be drafted — there has been support in NFL circles.

Super Bowl MVP Malcolm Smith tweeted, "There is no room for bigotry in American sports. It takes courage to change the culture." And consider this tweet from Richie Incognito, the Miami Dolphins' offensive lineman who was suspended for bullying a teammate: "#respect bro. It takes guts to do what you did. I wish u nothing but the best."

The NFL issued a statement saying, "We admire Michael Sam's honesty and courage. Michael is a football player. Any player with ability and determination can succeed in the NFL. We look forward to welcoming and supporting Michael Sam in 2014." And various team owners expressed openness, including Robert Kraft of the Patriots ("We're about winning and anyone who can come in here and help us win … I'm happy to have him here," he said, according to the Boston Herald).

The issue might be generational, said writer and Staples boys soccer coach Dan Woog.

"I don't think there's a kid in America in high school who doesn't know somebody who is gay," said Woog, who is openly gay. "Somebody at school, a relative … They know gay people. It's just not a big deal. Look at the Missouri players. They didn't say a word, they embraced him. If a bunch of 20-year-olds can handle it, I think an NFL team ought to be able to handle it pretty well, too."

Woog sees Sam as a potential role model for gay teens, but his presence is just as important for straight kids.

"Clearly it's great for gay kids, that they can see that they can be anyone they want to be, not just an interior decorator or a cop or a teacher or a politician," Woog said. "They can be anyone they want to be. And there are plenty of kids — fewer now — who are good athletes but they get turned off by the environment and what they hear, so they don't pursue it … or they hide who they are and they become either aggressively homophobic or they just have no life whatsoever.

"But I also think, and this is the part that is less examined, that it's really important for the straight kids. That Michael Sam coming out is important for straight kids to know, 'You know, I probably do have gay teammates, I might have a gay coach … It's not right, it's not wrong, it's not good, it's not bad, it simply is.' So the message that that sends to kids who don't even know they're getting the message is as important as the one that's being sent to the gay kids."

Burke said he recently spoke at an all-Catholic boys school and his presentation received a standing ovation. The generational divide on same-sex issues is strong, Burke said.

"The younger generation of kids, high school or even college kids, this is nothing to them," said Burke, who works in the NHL Department of Player Safety and is a former Philadelphia Flyers scout. "The people who are having problems with this, who are struggling with this, who have issues with this … are older. Basically, if you're in the United States today and you're under the age of 25, this is a non-issue for you."

Dan Lebowitz, executive director of Northeastern University's Sport in Society program, believes the implications of Sam's decision will reach far beyond sports. He points to sports as an agent for social change all over the world, from apartheid in South Africa to racial and social justice in the United States.

By coming out now, before he enters the most popular and prosperous league in professional sports, Sam is starting a conversation.

"It's an incredibly brave move," Lebowitz said. "I think it's a huge, huge deal and can't be understated. … There's always got to be something that galvanizes [an issue], and there's not a bigger sport exported from our country than football. So I commend the guy. I think it's an amazing moment, I think a brave moment, and I think it will be a watershed moment that will galvanize a lot of positive movement."

[paul-doyle]

Breanna Stewart Finds Outpouring Of Support After Opening Up About Abuse

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

Nov 01, 2017

In 1,663 words, Breanna Stewart revealed the most personal of stories.

Stewart's piece on The Players' Tribune recounted her experience as a childhood sexual abuse survivor. It's a deeply personal essay which Stewart hopes will inspire others to tell their stories.

And simply by being so open, Stewart is already making a difference.

"The word I would use is courage," said Dr. Laura Saunders, a child psychologist at the Institute of Living. "It takes courage to release the secret. Once you release the secret, it's not a secret anymore and it's a step toward decreasing the isolation and decreasing the shame."

Stewart's essay, published Monday morning, sparked an outpouring of reaction on social media. The former UConn All-American and current WNBA All-Star shared the story on her Twitter and Facebook accounts at 7 a.m. and the story spread quickly, with an array of figures commenting with tweets: UConn coach Geno Auriemma, former UConn guard and Stewart's WNBA teammate Sue Bird, soccer legend Abby Wambach, Sen. Richard Blumenthal, and more.

The tweet from Auriemma: "Stewie was 4 time Final Four MVP. Today she is MVP for life. Love you Stewie."

The essay's title is a nod to the hashtag that has gone viral in response to sexual harassment and assault allegations against Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein. Actress Alyssa Milano started the campaign on Twitter two weeks ago and the hashtag has spread.

In fact, Stewart writes that she was inspired to share her story after reading Olympic gymnast McKayla Maroney's account of sexual abuse. Just as Maroney inspired Stewart, Stewart could act as a catalyst for others.

"It's one thing to write #MeToo, meaning you can relate to it, but it's a whole other issue to write such a deeply personal story," Saunders said "These kinds of personal accounts, I think, are very powerful and they're very powerful for young people, even adults to read, and realize they're not alone."

Laura Cordes, executive director of the Connecticut Alliane to End Sexual Violence, is encouraged by the magnitude of the #MeToo movement, including Stewart's decision to share her story.

"We celebrate the bravery and resilience of all survivors, like Breanna, who have survived the trauma of sexual abuse," Cordes said. "We are encouraged that so many who have remained silent for years or decades, feel comfortable enough to share their story. Not all survivors can. When survivors do, we need to believe and listen. The millions of #metoo stories not only illustrate the pervasiveness of sexual violence throughout our country in all communities and at all ages and stages of life, they are a collective call to action for individuals and institutions alike to believe survivors, hold offenders accountable and create communities where sexual violence is never tolerated."

Erin Merryn, a sexual abuse survivor, applauds Stewart for making her story public. Merryn is an author and activist against sexual abuse who founded "Erin's Law," which requires school to offer age-appropriate instruction on body safety and sexual abuse.

The law has passed in 31 states, including Connecticut.

"She is a brave woman for taking a stand and she will help so many others by going public," Merryn said in an email. "She will notice it, too, when people approach her and she hears, 'Thank you.' "

Merryn, of Illinois, was raped by an uncle from age 6 to 8 and was sexually assaulted by an older cousin from age 11 to 13. She self-published her first book ("Stolen Innocence: Triumphing Over a Childhood Broken by Abuse: A Memoir") while in high school and began speaking publicly about child sexual abuse in 2005.

"Child sexual abuse is a silent epidemic," Merryn said. "I have been saying for nearly 15 years that we all know someone, we just might not know their name because there is so much shame and taboo attached to this subject. People are afraid to say this happened to them, when reality is you have nothing to be ashamed of at all. By staying silent we allow our abusers to win. By speaking up and being a voice you can help end the silence and help bring others to reclaiming their voice."

Saunders, of the Institute of Living, points out that secrecy is inherent among childhood abuse survivors.

"So many young people, far more than we hope there would be, hold onto the secret of sexual or physical or emotional abuse," Saunders said. "And the power of the secrecy creates a tremendous feeling of isolation and that's one of the themes Breanna Stewart talks about [in the essay] is really the isolation, that no one knew. So reading a story like this … reading someone else's story, breaking the secrecy, and decreasing the isolation is a very powerful healing force."

Stewart writes that she was molested between ages 9 and 11. She eventually told her parents when she was 11.

On Tuesday, Stewart's parents, Brian and Heather, talked to Donna Ditota of Syracuse.com about their daughter's essay. Stewart grew up in the Syracuse area.

"All we want to say is we're proud of her in what she's trying to accomplish by helping others," Brian Stewart said in the story. "We can also say, as parents, that our message would be that we were blindsided by this. We thought she was in a safe place all the time. People need to be aware that maybe they need to be looking out for this kind of stuff. It's sad. But it's out there and it's just not something any kid should have to go through."

Stewart said basketball was an escape as she grew up and processed the abuse. Saunders said Stewart used those "hours and hours a day per week to work out the poison" that grows inside a child keeping a secret.

Most kids don't have that outlet. That's what makes Stewart's story empowering.

Near the end of the essay, Stewart writes "This is bigger than me." She said she's not sure what will come next but she is prepared to assume responsibility as a public survivor.

Her advice: "If you are being abused, tell somebody. If that person doesn't believe you, tell somebody else. A parent, a family member, a teacher, a coach, a friend's parent. Help is there."

Saunders said that's an ideal message.

"Shame is what prevents someone from, when something like this happens, telling the next person," Saunders said. "They feel shame and they feel like they did something wrong. Speaking out like this makes people realize, oh wait, it's not just me and I don't need to feel ashamed."

[paul-doyle]

For 2 Days At MSG, Life's Ruff

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

February 14, 2007

NEW YORK — On one bench was Hunter, sprawling elegantly beneath the Best of Breed ribbons he won hours earlier.

On the adjacent bench was Ernie, whining and whimpering as he jabbed his long, lean snout through the bars of his cage.

It was Tuesday afternoon in the bowels of Madison Square Garden and waves of dog lovers were paying homage to the stars of the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show. Hours before the eminent Best in Show category, pooches of all shapes and sizes were on display before and after competing in the rings.

No one could pass the anguished white Borzoi named Ernie without stopping. Some dogs sat amid pictures of themselves and a posse of handlers, but Ernie was alone and his only accessory was the piece of tattered white tape stripped across his cage with his name scribbled on it.

Next to the award-winning Hunter, Ernie looked more like a dog pleading for attention at a mall pet store.

``Oh, you poor thing,'' an elderly woman said. ``Poor Ernie.''

Ernie's catcalls -- or dogcalls -- lasted the rest of the afternoon. At a place described as a celebration of the dog, there was no discriminating -- the Dachshunds got as much love as the Great Danes and lonely Ernie was as popular as any other four-legged friend.

``This is the Super Bowl of dog shows,'' said Katrina Stewart of North Branford, who was showing Dallas, her Shetland Sheepdog. ``Everybody is here because they just love dogs.''

The dogs were arriving at MSG before 8 a.m. and the second day of the show didn't end until 10:51 p.m., when the English Springer Spaniel named Diamond Jim won the Best in Show. The overwhelming crowd favorite at the 131st Westminster was Harry, the Dandie Dinmont Terrier owned by Bill Cosby.

Despite the cheering and occasional chants of ``Harry, Harry,'' judge Robert Indeglia chose the 6-year-old Springer from Fairfax Station, Va., over six other breeds.

In the minutes before the Best in Show competition, backstage at the Garden was like a hair salon. Cameras crowded around Harry as he was brushed.

Long before the USA Network went live with the Best of Groups and Best in Show, breeds were being judged in four rings on the Garden floor while dogs were primping and resting. Owners were required to keep their dogs on display all day, with one break for an hour of grooming and the occasional bodily function.

With 2,633 dogs -- including 120 from Connecticut -- judged over two days, MSG had the feel of a trade show. As you stepped over the fur balls on the floor, dogs were strutting before you.

It was a doggie Mardi Gras.

``Well, you have to be here,'' said Rachel Hill, who traveled from the Buffalo area to show her Flat-Coated Retriever. ``Everybody is here. But, honestly, it's not fun. It's crowded. I'm not sure some of the judges know what they're doing. You see people and talk, but ... ''

Hill, who grew up in the Dorchester section of Boston, has been breeding dogs for 35 years and spends almost every weekend at shows. She has been coming to Westminster for years, so the novelty has faded and she cringes at all the hoopla.

Stewart, showing at Westminster for the first time, was surprised by the lack of tension at MSG. Her Shetland Dallas didn't impress the judge, but Stewart thought her dog looked great and performed well.

There was no dejection in her voice. Just being at the canine Mecca was satisfying for someone with six dogs.

``And they have their own room,'' Stewart said. ``They have everything for me.''

As the afternoon turned into evening, many of the dogs looked weary. Fans in the Garden watched intently as the breeds were judged while the expansive room under the stands smelled and sounded like a kennel.

There were deep barks from the big dogs and high-pitched yelps from the smaller breeds. Kids were drawn to the Dachshunds and one wiener dog reacted to the attention by leaving a yellow puddle on the floor. When a show official announced owners could leave at 6 p.m. -- two hours earlier than expected -- because of the weather, the sporadic barks were muted by a loud cheer.

``It's a long, long day,'' said Hunter's owner Marilyn McGraw, who traveled from the Bay Area.

[paul-doyle]

Geno Auriemma Studies, Absorbs It All, Then Tailors Ideas To Fit Personnel

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

November 10, 2016

After 11 NCAA titles, after enshrinement in the Hall of Fame and recognition as an elite coaching mind, Geno Auriemma is still a basketball student at his core.

Season after season, he is looking for something new or old to slide into his playbook. He is watching games at all levels, talking to coaches around the country and cramming as if he is building a program from the bottom up.

In the 1990s, he visited the Chicago Bulls and was tutored on the nuances of the famed triangle offense. A few years later, he attended Boston Celtics' practice in search of something — anything — from then-coach Rick Pitino. Years later, he picked the brain of Mike D'Antoni when he wanted UConn to accelerate its offense.

Auriemma would revisit Pete Carril's Princeton offense, he would study what Gregg Popovich is deploying with the San Antonio Spurs and he would talk strategy with every coach he encountered, from Mike Krzyzewski to Larry Brown to Tom Thibodeau.

It's how UConn stays one step ahead of the posse, as Auriemma like to put it.

"We're always looking for that one thing," Auriemma said. "The one thing that makes us better. You're always on the lookout for something that's going to help your team. It changes every year."

That's what makes this season so fascinating. Auriemma and his coaching staff are embarking on a new era in Storrs, guiding a team that lost three significant players from a four-time national champion. Breanna Stewart was one of the great players in program history, Moriah Jefferson was a classic point guard, Morgan Tuck was a skilled player and one of the best all-around talents in the nation.

The offense ran through those players, the defense and pace were often dictated by them.

This year, there are so many questions and so much is unknown. With five new players — three freshmen, two transfers who are not eligible to compete in games — preseason practices have been considerably different than a year ago.

How will this year's team play? The hallmark of UConn is defense, what DePaul coach and Auriemma confidant Doug Bruno calls the "program's secret weapon." Defense steeped in effort and intelligence is a constant, regardless of the players on the roster.

But the plays UConn will run, the specific elements that the coaches are teaching? Much of that is determined by the skills of the players.

"Our approach has always been, what does this team need for us to be really really good?" Auriemma said. "Even if what we did last year was great. We have a different team this year, how do we add some stuff or tweak some stuff to change our team for the better? We've kind of always done that. We've always managed to not be so locked into one thing that we're going to do that regardless of who we have. That's never been our philosophy. Sometimes it's just a minor thing. Sometimes it's a bigger thing. But we're always looking."

Always Learning

Auriemma has always been a student of basketball. Growing up in the Philadelphia area, he paid close attention to the city's college and NBA coaching hierarchy. His first college job was at St. Joseph's under Jim Foster.

Later, he coached under Debbie Ryan at Virginia. The men's coach was Terry Holland, and the ACC of the early 1980s had plenty of coaches to watch. Krzyzewski was at Duke, Dean Smith at North Carolina, Bobby Cremins at Georgia Tech, Jim Valvano at North Carolina State, Lefty Driesell at Maryland.

"When I first started coaching, I was taking things from everywhere," Auriemma said. "And every place that I've ever been and every place I've ever coached, every time I watch a game on TV, every time I read a book, I try to find something that somehow or another, even if it helps us 1 percent or 2 percent … it gives us a different a look, and I think it keeps us ahead."

That hasn't changed as Auriemma, 62, has become the coach that others seek for advice. His position in USA Basketball has brought him into contact with an array of coaches. When coaches get together, they talk coaching.

"If you're big fan of basketball like I am, and you can look to a lot of different areas for examples of what you have and what you want to do," Auriemma said. "You say these are our strengths, this is what I think we have, who operates in that world and can we learn from them? I've always tried to take a little bit from everyone."

Auriemma was always intrigued by the triangle, popularized by longtime Bulls' assistant Tex Winter and embraced by Phil Jackson. Winter learned the "triple-post" offense as a player under Sam Barry at Southern California in the late 1940s and he carried the approach into his coaching career, even penning a book about the offensive scheme in 1962.

Winter joined the Bulls in 1985 and his offense found success with Michael Jordan's team. The triangle, which creates space on the floor, was an important part of Chicago's dynasty.

Back in Storrs, Auriemma saw potential for the offense with a lineup that included Rebecca Lobo, Jennifer Rizzotti and Kara Wolters. In 1994, he decided to implement the offense after visiting a Bulls' practice. He had 10 days of practice before UConn went to Europe for a preseason trip.

"I thought we had a group that could do it," Auriemma said. "I didn't want to take a chance during the season and screw my team up. But we had 10 days here where it's nothing and then we're going to go to Europe and play five games. If I don't like it when I come back, we know what we're going to do and can go back to that. As it turned out, it ended up being great."

What followed was a 35-0 season and UConn's first NCAA title. The players embraced the offense, partly because of how it was presented.

"I had our video guy film us running certain options to get baskets," Auriemma said. "And then in the middle of that I had clips of the Bulls running the same options, getting the same baskets. But this time it was [Scottie] Pippen scoring instead of Carla Berube, this time it was Jordan making a jump shot instead of Jen Rizzotti. So it was really really cool for them to see it. I said, 'Now when you watch them play you'll watch it with a different appreciation.' They did."

Always Changing

Eventually, UConn strayed from the triangle as other programs — notably, Tennessee — began using it. The posse was gaining on the Huskies and it was time for something else. When Pitino was coaching the Celtics from 1997-2001, Auriemma would visit practices.

"You might see one thing," Auriemma said. "You don't come away from these different excursions saying, 'Wow, I've got to change everything I do because I want to mirror that exactly.' That's not the objective for me."

And the inspiration could come from anywhere. In 2000, Auriemma was watching his daughter play for Manchester High. He noticed the opposing team was handling the zone difference with an approach he had not considered.

The next day, he told Chris Dailey about the high school game.

"I said to her, 'You know that stuff that we do against a zone? I bet you if we changed it just a tad and put that cut in there, it would help,'" Auriemma said. "And you know what? We used it the whole year and we won a national championship. From a high school coach. … Ideas and inspirations can come from a lot of places if you're willing to have an open mind and you're constantly on the lookout for new things."

Years later, UConn was blessed with speed and skill. Renee Montgomery had the ability to push the ball quickly up the floor, and the offense featured Maya Moore, Tina Charles and Kalana Greene.

How could UConn take advantage of the team's speed and athleticism?

"I said, you know who really did an amazing job with that? It was the Phoenix Suns when Steve Nash was playing for Mike D'Antoni," Auriemma said. "Mike happened to be in New York [coaching the Knicks], so I said OK, let's see how that could fit in with what Renee Montgomery does and how that could help us."

It was off to New York. Auriemma spent time with D'Antoni and learned all he could about his offense. UConn implemented an offense that ran and relied on the speed of Montgomery.

With that team, it fit.

"One of Geno's strengths as a coach is his ability and willingness to be flexible," Dailey said. "Every title we've won, it's been different. In '95, it was the triangle. In 2000, we had really deep team so we pressed and ran. So every year it's been a little bit different."

There have been constants through the Auriemma-Dailey era. Defenders with their hands up, aggressive and active and sometimes pressing. Lots of ball movement and distribution on offense.

In many ways, the offense has always had an element of Pete Carril's Princeton attack that stresses ball movement. But Auriemma embraced Carril during the Stefanie Dolson era, when UConn lacked a traditional point guard.

"Who was the best passer on the team?" Auriemma said. "Well, it was was Stefanie Dolson. So let's put her in a position where we run our offense through her. And it gave us a whole different identity and for two years we rode that. It was great, obviously."

Which brings us to the era of the Big Three. The Huskies eventually had that classic point guard when Jefferson took the wheel of the offense but elements of that Princeton offense continued to live because Stewart and Tuck were such good passers.

Again, more tinkering and exploring. This time, Auriemma looked to San Antonio.

Fresh Ideas

In Jefferson, Auriemma saw a point guard capable of dictating the pace while scoring from all over the court. She also could pass, and UConn happened to have great players up front to run the offense through.

Kind of sounds like the Spurs, no?

Two years ago, Auriemma instructed Jefferson to watch a 15-minute video of Tony Parker.

"I said, look, I don't expect you to be Tony Parker," Auriemma said. "But take a look at this and tell me what you think fits with what you are comfortable with. Do you see anything that's similar? Do you see anything that's realistic for you? And it was amazing to watch her try to incorporate … just the thought process."

Jefferson became the best point guard in the country, She landed in San Antonio as a WNBA player and had an opportunity to speak to Parker about his influence on her game.

"It was really neat to hear that," Auriemma said.

Auriemma was also in San Antonio this year watching Popovich's practices for a few days. Maybe there's something from the Spurs that UConn can use this season, Auriemma thought.

He also spent the summer coaching the gold medal-winning U.S. national team at the Rio Olympics. He found himself talking defense with U.S. men's assistant Tom Thibodeau, the New Britain native regarded as one of the great defensive coaching minds in the NBA.

"Not all of it is applicable to us and it would be silly for us to say, 'OK we're going to do it exactly like that,' " Auriemma said. "But there's ideas that you take."

In the post-Big Three era, UConn is looking for fresh ideas. This year's roster lacks size and there may be no true point guard, at least until freshman Crystal Dangerfield matures. But there is plenty of talent.

How will Auriemma, Dailey and the staff draw things up? Stay tuned.

"You always try to keep it simple, no matter what you're doing," Dailey said. "It's not brain surgery. With this group, one of our strengths is versatility and it's been interesting to kind of figure out how to use that."

There's also youth and inexperience on this team, which may shape what UConn does. And it may be a seasonlong process as players emerge and change roles.

Auriemma said there could be a piece of this or an element of that from the past. Mix it together and it's UConn's game, but nothing is completely original.

"We're not sitting here thinking that we invented the game and that we know more than anybody else," Auriemma said.

South Carolina coach Dawn Staley, an assistant on the Olympic staff, marveled at Auriemma's offensive coaching mind. The Olympic experience, she said, was enlightening because she watched Auriemma's mind at work.

"He's just amazing," Staley said. "He always thinking of way to outfox the defense. To me, he's a genius."

[paul-doyle]

The Gift Of Gabby: Williams Will Do Whatever It Takes To Make UConn Better

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

March 31, 2017

The play ends with a feat of jaw-dropping athleticism, Gabby Williams leaping over an opponent in a single bound and snatching the ball.

But it all begins with the brain. Williams, intuitive and intelligent, positions herself in just the right space on the floor. She studies the nuances of her opponent's body, she reads the trajectory of the shot and processes where it will rattle off the rim.

UConn fans have been witnessing the show all season. An undersized former guard who was a reserve last season, Williams has been a dynamic player in a season full of dynamic performances.

She is among the best defensive players in the country, thriving against bigger post players. She is also the best all-around player on the best team in the country, filling the stat sheet with rebounds, assists, blocks, steals and points.

As UConn moves into its 10th consecutive Final Four, the team's improbable rise will be a common theme all weekend. How did the program manage to avoid a loss after watching three of the best players in college basketball graduate off a four-time national champion?

Sophomores Napheesa Collier and Katie Lou Samuelson have been elite scorers, earning All-America and national player of the year consideration. Junior Kia Nurse has emerged as a perimeter scoring threat while providing defense and stability at guard, while senior Saniya Chong has been a steady force all season.

But the exclamation point on the season wears No. 15.

Williams (14.1 points, 8.4 rebounds, 5.2 assists) is a human highlight reel, the player who has been drawing gasps from crowds in gyms all over the country. She was called the best basketball player in the country by ESPN's Jay Bilas and opposing coaches have been marveling at her athleticism for the past four months.

"Her legs are like springs," Albany coach Joanna Bernabei-McNamee said. "She just gets up and rises above the other player."

There is an audacity to her game, as the 5-foot-11 Williams continually outperforms players who tower over her. But she can be hard on herself and her confidence has sometimes waned over her three seasons at UConn.

Geno Auriemma attributes it to the physical setback following two surgical procedures on her knee. Williams was limited as a junior and senior at Reed High in Sparks, Nev., so she came to UConn as a relatively inexperienced player.

"In her basketball life this is her second year of playing basketball," Auriemma said. "This is her second year of basketball in the last four years."

She is also hyper competitive and struggled with failure.

"If it was dominoes, if it was checkers, if it was horseshoes, she would just figure out how to win," said Williams' father, Matt. "She's just a perfectionist."

So imagine the difficulty two years ago. Still recovering from her second knee injury and working herself back into basketball shape, she changed position. All those transitions as a freshman — from guard to forward, from high school to college, from Nevada to Connecticut — tested her.

Williams did not leave the bench in the second game of her freshman year. That happened to be UConn's last loss, 88-86 in overtime at Stanford. Auriemma said the team could not trust her, so she sat.

"I never wanted to feel like that again ... almost helpless," Williams said. "I knew that if I would have played in that game, I would have messed everything up. I wasn't prepared the way I should have for that game. So I had to think of, what am I going to bring to this program now, for myself and for my teammates? Because I don't ever want to feel like I'm not a part of anything."

She hasn't missed a game since. There have still been moments of self doubt, even this season. But the confidence has risen as she has continually succeeded at the highest level.

"When she's going good, she feel like she's on top of the world," Auriemma said. "And when she's not, she gets a little bit tentative. Those doubts have been less and less and less. But freshman year? It dominated her. Those thoughts dominated her and that's why she had a hard time playing. Now you look at her … they show up once in awhile.

"Fortunately for us, every big game we've played on national television, those doubts didn't come to the arena. Somehow or another, they got lost on the way over."

She has been at her best against the best. She had 14 points against Baylor, 19 points and 12 rebounds at Notre Dame, 16 points and nine rebounds at Maryland, and 26 points and 14 rebounds against South Carolina.

In the NCAA Tournament? She is averaging 23.3 points and 7.8 rebounds.

And when the environment was tough early in the season, Williams was often the calming influence. At Notre Dame, she gathered the team during a slide and told her teammate, "We got this."

The HBO behind-the-scene documentary series on UConn presented Williams as the team's den mother, making shrimp and grits for her teammates.

And consider this: Williams has been eating a vegan diet this year. But she'll cook anything for the Huskies.

"That's a good teammate," Katie Lou Samuelson said.

That also speaks to her willingness to transform herself into a post player because that's what her team needs. Williams is a well-documented elite athlete, finishing fifth in the high jump at the 2012 Olympic track and field trials at age 15. Yet the kid who reached such heights in an individual sport is the ultimate teammate.

Auriemma has raved about her intelligence and energy. She has the ability to connect with people, gravitating to a leadership role. She is politically and socially aware and active, she loves music — HBO did a segment on her vinyl collection and Williams shared her playlist with ESPN.com, including the song she's been playing before every game since middle school (Mac Dre's "Feelin' Myself") — and she'll do whatever necessary for her team.

"If Geno told her, next year I need you to go out and sell popcorn ... she's going to do it," Matt Williams said. "She's going to do whatever it takes to win. That's why she picked UConn over everybody else."

Williams picked UConn over Stanford, Arizona, Arizona State and UCLA. Her father, who played at Nevada, coached her in AAU and Williams grew up around the game, playing all over the West Coast.

Yet she transplanted herself to Connecticut in search of the highest level.

"And because of Geno and the day-to-day discipline … it's taken her to another level," Matt Williams said. "I don't think there's another program in the country where you could get that."

Gabby said she still misses high jumping, especially as she watches her younger brother Matthew start his high school track career this year. But there is no regret for an athlete who could have been a 2016 Olympic contender had it not been for her knee injury.

"I don't ever think about what could have been," Williams said "I'm here. I'm here for a reason."

Next year, she will play in front of familiar faces when UConn plays at Nevada in her homecoming game. Not only did her father play for the program in Reno, but her sister Kayla was a forward for Nevada.

Will Williams be playing guard when she returns home? She could, but her ability to handle the ball and and pass makes her a unique post player. It's rare to have a post player with the hands of a guard.

And Williams believes her vertical leap will improve. She lost some height on her vertical leap after the surgeries, so she could leap even higher next season.

"When I came, I was just like, how can I help?" Williams said. "How can be a part of the team? It was helpful for me because being a post meant that was going to be more of a part of everything. I didn't see it as, 'Oh, I'm sacrificing.' … I feel like I'm in a really good spot, too. I'm always right in the middle of the floor. I can find people really easily. I can use some of those guard skills. I like the position I'm in."

But if her outside shot improves, Williams could be a player UConn can use anywhere on the floor. And Williams is working endlessly on her perimeter shot.

Auriemma's eyes widen when he talks about Williams' future. She has made such strides in one season and there is still another season left.

"It's almost like, whatever position she decides to play, she's going to be able to play it," Auriemma said. "My big thing with her all year has been about expanding her game. Being a much better ball-handler in traffic. Being a much better shooter. … Little by little, we're gaining on it."

[paul-doyle]

Shots At The Buzzer (A Miss, A Make) Bookend UConn Women's Amazing Season

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

April 8, 2017

The first game of the season ended when a jump shot by Florida State guard Imani Wright from behind the three-point arc that bounced off the front of the rim at the buzzer.

The final game of the season ended when a pull-up jumper by Mississippi State guard Morgan William settled into the net at the buzzer.

In between, UConn evolved from a collection of players adjusting to new roles into the best team in the country. And the Huskies made history, extending the program’s winning streak to a record 111 games.

But in the aftermath of the stunning season-ending loss in the national semifinals, it’s worth remembering how it all began.

The Huskies led Florida State by one point when Napheesa Collier blocked Shakayla Thomas’ shot with 8 seconds left. Freshman Crystal Dangerfield, on the floor because starting guard Saniya Chong and Kia Nurse had fouled out, made one of two free throws, giving Florida State the ball with 5 seconds left.

Wright took a pass from Brittany Brown and lofted a three-point shot as time expired. It would have won the game for Florida State, and it would marked UConn’s first loss in a season opener since 1995.

Instead, UConn escaped Tallahassee with a 78-76 win. The 76th consecutive win seemed to signal just how fragile this season might be.

“It’s going to be like this for the next five months,” coach Geno Auriemma said.

After Tallahassee and long before Dallas, Auriemma’s young team found its groove. The Huskies ran through a series of wins against ranked teams over the first six weeks of the season, with notable victories at Notre Dame and Maryland. The six-point win at Maryland was significant because of what followed — Auriemma spoke openly with his team about the winning streak after the victory in College Park, asking his players if they truly wanted to take ownership of the record.

The answer was a resounding yes. They would roll through the record, matching the 90-game mark with a 102-37 win over No. 20 South Florida.

The 100th consecutive win came against No. 6 South Carolina, the eventual national champion. Yet that win preceded a scare in New Orleans, where unranked Tulane lost by three points to the Huskies.

With Nurse injured and the team missing shots, UConn was vulnerable. But the Huskies survived, and the team’s identity was defined by the postseason. UConn was resilient, healthy and playing well as it rolled through the NCAA Tournament.

But the team that played beyond its age and experience hit a wall. Mississippi State, which lost to UConn by 60 a year ago, had the Huskies out of sync. It was partly due to the opponent, partly the magnitude of the game, partly the team’s flaws finally pulling the team under water.

“These kids have never really been in situations like they were in today,” Auriemma said after the loss. “You know, just wasn’t meant to be.”

Five nights later, fans and viewers got a glimpse of the postgame sadness in the locker room. The finale of HBO’s “UConn: The March to Madness” showed the team preparing for the national semifinal, with a call from Kobe Bryant during a team dinner. There’s Auriemma addressing the team after the loss: “We’ve been so good at winning, and now we’re going to handle losing as well as we handle winning. This was a hell of a year. It was really incredible in a lot of ways. I’m proud of you guys.”

Later, the episode ended with Auriemma back at his office in Storrs on Tuesday.

“This particular team, as it was assembled, never got a chance to start fresh,” Auriemma said in the voiceover. “They started, you know, carrying something that someone handed to them. And they did a pretty damn good job of carrying it. And after a while, it just got a little heavy.”

UConn opened the season ranked third in the country. And the season began just a few days after No. 1 high school prospect Megan Walker committed to UConn, rounding out the best recruiting class in the country.

UConn already had two transfers sitting out this season: Azura Stevens from Duke and Batouly Camara from Kentucky. So there was a sense all season that this was the year to catch UConn. This was the year when the Huskies were beatable.

It took 37 games, but they were.

“They were just better,” Auriemma said. “You know what? When stuff like this happens, it kind of makes me shake my head and go, ‘You know how many times this could have happened and it didn’t happen?’ The fact that it never happened, that doesn’t mean I went home thinking, 'It’s never going to happen.’ I knew this was coming at some point. I’m just shocked that it took this long to get here.”

The future? There will be more depth and size next season, when players will be battling for minutes.

And Stevens, a 6-foot-6 forward with the ability to score from all over the floor, could be one of the best players in the country. She’ll slide into the starting lineup with Chong graduating.

Leading scorers Collier and Katie Lou Samuelson will be back as experienced juniors. Gabby Williams, the team’s best player in the loss to Mississippi State, will return after thriving as an undersized post player. Nurse, a starter on two title teams, will be a four-year starter next season.

And Stevens, who has been practicing with the team all season, will bring a new dynamic to the lineup.

“She’s just unique,” ESPN analyst Kara Lawson said. “Because she’s 6-6 and now that she’s in the UConn program, she’s running the court at a great pace, back and forth. She can run. And she’s skilled; she can shoot threes. She’s athletic enough, and she fits in. … In watching her with the team, you look toward next year and you’re like, what’s going to be the game plan next year? She just fills in a few of the holes.”

[paul-doyle]

Element Of Risk Mixed In

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

March 09, 2006

It began with Winstrol, one of the most potent and popular steroids used by bodybuilders.

Barry Bonds moved on to Deca-Durabolin, another well-known anabolic steroid. Then he added human growth hormone before using designer steroid cocktails that could not be detected by drug tests.

He also dabbled in insulin, the female fertility drug Clomid, and other steroids, including one commonly used to increase the quality of muscle in beef cattle. Some drugs were used simply to offset the side effects of others.

For a five-year stretch, Bonds was baseball's most prolific power hitter. And according to a book by two San Francisco Chronicle writers, he was simultaneously juggling a long list of performance-enhancing drugs.

If the reporting of Mark Fainaru-Wada and Lance Williams is correct, Bonds remade his body in his mid-30s, for many the final stage of a career. His increase in production is obvious: Bonds set the single-season home run record with 73 in 2001 and he is 48 homers shy of Hank Aaron's career record of 756.

But has Bonds compromised his health in his pursuit of immortality?

``It depends on how you mix these drugs,'' said Gary Wadler, a New York doctor and member of the World Anti-Doping Agency, which coordinates the fight against doping in international sport. ``The long-term side effects could be death. It has been death. It could range from nominal to dying prematurely. It depends on which drug you're talking about.

``Each of these drugs have side effects on their own, particularly if used non-therapeutically, not in therapeutic doses. And the risks increase for each individual when they use these drugs in combination. It's the dose, it's the duration, it's the combination, and these combinations can be lethal.''

But the debate about the impact of steroid use is spirited from both sides. Evidence of heart or liver disease is anecdotal, according to many researchers.

Dr. Paul Thompson, director of cardiology at Hartford Hospital, researched the effect of anabolic steroids on cholesterol metabolism and cardiac size in the 1980s.``Nobody likes to hear this, but there are not that many studies showing that they are terribly dangerous,'' Thompson said. ``There are reports of men using these and having heart attacks. But the question is, heart attacks are so frequent ... did the drug cause the heart attack or did something else cause the heart attack?''

Thompson said his study did find that anabolic steroids can raise the level of bad cholesterol and decrease good cholesterol, which would theoretically raise the risk of heart disease.

``But that's been hard to prove,'' Thompson said.

Thompson also said anabolic steroids can lower other risk factors for heart disease, so it is difficult to quantify the overall effect on the heart.

But in reviewing the drugs Bonds allegedly used, Thompson said there are obvious risks.

``It's nutty for a [healthy] person to use insulin because it can drop your blood sugar so low that you can get brain damage,'' Thompson said.

Growth hormone, Thompson said, can cause heart problems and joint problems if used incorrectly. And there is evidence of liver problems as the result of steroid use.

According to the book, Bonds blamed steroid use for a 1999 arm injury. He missed seven weeks after tearing a left triceps tendon.

``There is a sense out there that there's more tendon injuries in baseball since more [players] are using steroids,'' Wadler said.

That's one reason Bonds began mixing his drugs, according to the book. The human growth hormone was said to add muscle without compromising the joints and tendons, Bonds believed.

After playing 143 games in 2000, Bonds met BALCO founder Victor Conte and began using the designer steroids ``the clear'' and ``the cream,'' which were undetectable. In 2001, Bonds hit the 73 home runs.

Meanwhile, his physique has changed considerably. To steroid experts, before and after pictures of Bonds, 41, were incriminating.

``Just look at his face and his head,'' said former steroid user Jeff Rutstein, a personal trainer in Boston and author of the book ``The Steroid Deceit: A Body Worth Dying For?'' ``He has that puffy look of a user. And look at the size of his forehead. You can work out all the time, but your forehead is not going to grow like that. To me, it's obvious.''

[paul-doyle]

Mississippi State Does The Unthinkable: Stops Streaking UConn 66-64 In OT

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

April 1, 2017

DALLAS -- The ball floated through the air as the last second ticked off the clock, the record winning streak and a historic championship run hanging in the balance.

As the buzzer sounded and the ball settled in the net, it was over.

The game. The winning streak. The title run. The season.

The team that spent the season finding a way to surprise the world was out of answers. Morgan William's running jumper as overtime ended made history — Mississippi State handed UConn its first loss since Nov. 17, 2014, ending the 111-game winning streak.

As the Bulldogs celebrated a 66-64 win Friday night, the young Huskies walked off the court with their shoulders slouched. After 36 wins through an improbable run this season, the Huskies were losers.

"I'm proud of our team, I'm proud of our kids," Geno Auriemma said. "They had an incredible run, but we came up against a much better team tonight."

The four-time defending national champion Huskies weren't supposed to be No. 1 in the country for much of the season. After graduating three elite players, UConn returned a young roster. Players would serve new roles while the team attempted to survive with little depth and a short bench.

They managed, navigating a difficult nonconference schedule early in the season. They extended the winning streak and moved through March with confidence.

But they faced a tough and experienced team in the national semifinal. Mississippi State (34-4) led by as many as 16 in the first half and answered every UConn run throughout the second half.

In overtime, Katie Lou Samuelson tied the game with two free throws after officials called a flagrant foul on an earlier play. On the ensuing possession, senior Saniya Chong drove to the basket and threw up an off-balance shot that never quite elevated.

Mississippi State took the ball with 12 seconds left. William, coming off a 41-point performance in a win over Baylor in the regional final, took the ball and drove past Gabby Williams, perhaps the best defensive player in the country.

The basket won the game. Auriemma watched and smiled.

"I know how to appreciate when other people win," Auriemma said.

Williams had 21 points to lead UConn. Victoria Vivians had 19 to lead Mississippi State.

A year ago, UConn beat Mississippi State by 60 points in the NCAA Tournament. That was a motivator for the Bulldogs.

"We believe in our locker room that it would be done," Mississippi State coach Vic Schaefer said.

Schaefer said his team beat the greatest team with the greatest streak in the history of sports. Auriemma said what unfolded in the national semifinal was what he feared all season, his young players playing like young players.

Sophomores Samuelson (15 points) and Napheesa Collier (11 points) struggled to find their rhythm. The Huskies dealt with foul trouble and Auriemma watched as UConn rode a 12-0 first-half run to cut the lead.

They trailed 36-28 at halftime. Auriemma said they were lucky it was that close. It was the second time this season the Huskies trailed at halftime. They also trailed Florida State at halftime in the first game of the season.

In the second half, UConn could never quite seize control. Mississippi State continually made shots.

"When you get to this point in the season and you lose, it's the worst feeling imaginable," Auriemma said. "The excitement that was in the Mississippi State locker room, we've been there. We've been there lots of times. ... Today they deserved to win. They beat us. We had our chances but they beat us We didn't have the kind of maturity."

Auriemma has been cautioning that UConn's youth would reveal itself. It happened at a bad time. It was 60-60 at the end of regulation. The Huskies missed their first six shots in overtime.

But they were still in a position to win in the final minute. In the end, the team that scratched out a two-point win in the first game of the season fell short.

"I'm proud of what they've been able to do and how much they changed since last October," Auriemma said. "These kids were way older than they were supposed to be."

Four starters return next season. Williams and Kia Nurse, who have been on the team for all of the 111-game streak, will be seniors.

"It's been quite a fun ride," Nurse said. "It's been a challenge but we handled it pretty well."

It was the first Final Four overtime game since Notre Dame beat UConn in the 2012 national semifinal. It was UConn's third overtime loss in the Final Four and fourth in the NCAA Tournament.

Mississippi State will play for the NCAA title against South Carolina Sunday. UConn turns its attention to next season.

"I'm really proud of what we've done," Williams said.

[paul-doyle]

McEnroe's Party On The Courts A Hit At Connecticut Open

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

August 29, 2015

NEW HAVEN — The unmistakable voice bellowed through Yale's Cullman-Heyman Tennis Center.

"Redfoo!" John McEnroe screamed. "Get over here."

And with that, the party rocker reported to the court. Redfoo — DJ, rapper, dancer, mop of hair and tennis aficionado — took his place next to McEnroe in a pro-am doubles match against Geno Auriemma and a member of the Yale women's tennis team.

It was a few hours before McEnroe and Jim Courier would play in the Connecticut Open men's legends match on Stadium Court, and the indoor tennis center was hosting a celebrity pro-am, or a collision of personalities from vastly different worlds. One of the great college basketball coaches in history was chatting with reporters while a notorious tennis legend was posing for pictures. The wacky guy from LMFAO was bouncing around on a court as a tennis Hall of Famer was shaking hands with college kids.

Surreal? Not if you expected the Connecticut Open's Friday night warm-up to feature McEnroe trash-talking Auriemma and Courier to trading shots with Motown founder Berry Gordy Jr.'s youngest child, the ubiquitous Redfoo.

Even the amateurs added to the atmosphere. Among them was Yale Law School professor Amy Chua, author of "Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother."

Superbrat and the Tiger Mom, going toe-to-toe on the tennis court. Perfect.

"It's more fun to sort of at least feel like you're playing well and holding up reasonably well," McEnroe said in a press conference Friday afternoon. "Then the other stuff sort of falls into place. People expect certain things, I suppose. I can't imagine what."

He smirked. McEnroe understands fans want a glimpse at his insanely competitive persona and he gives the people what they want, even in a lighthearted pro-am. Fans paid for the opportunity to play with the ex-pros and the celebrities, with extra slots taken by members of the Yale tennis teams. It was part of the day for McEnroe and Courier, the stars of the the tournament's featured men's match.

Redfoo, who grew up playing tennis and once dated Victoria Azarenka, has been making appearances at the tournament all week. And among the pros and celebrities at the event, he drew the least amount of attention beyond some stares at the bush of hair on his head.

But let it be known that McEnroe was authentically competitive, even before playing in front of a stadium crowd. The grimacing and muttering were straight out of the early 1980s, and he needled Auriemma for "faking" an injury and did his best to keep up with the young college players.

Auriemma, who played tennis in college, was roped into the event after expressing an interest in attending the Friday night matches. He borrowed a racket from UConn director of tennis Glenn Marshall, who hit balls with him a few times this summer.

Of course, Auriemma left New Haven with one of McEnroe's rackets. When there was a delay to repair the net during his match with Courier on Stadium Court, McEnroe grabbed the microphone and auctioned off his racket. He wound up giving away two rackets for $3,500 each — one of the two bids came from Auriemma and his wife, Kathy — with proceeds going to the Smilow Cancer Hospital.

McEnroe joked that Auriemma needed the racket to improve his serve. Really, his serve wasn't bad for a guy who had not played competitive tennis in about 30 years. He taught tennis at UConn during his first four years at the school, but that was a lifetime ago.

"They said, 'Do you want to come down and hit some balls?'" Auriemma said. "I said sure. … That's not hitting balls. That's having balls hit at you."

During the two matches, Auriemma held his own while working up a considerable sweat. He also limped off the court after his first match, when he partnered with Courier.

But the injury didn't prevent him from playing against McEnroe in the next match.

"Something happened on one [shot]," Auriemma said. "I moved the wrong way. Mr. Congeniality over there said I was faking an injury. When you're 61, you don't fake injuries. They're real."

Auriemma had never met McEnroe, although he saw him play in Philadelphia in the late 1970s. In those days, Auriemma was playing a lot of tennis and was a fan of the sport.

He became a fan of McEnroe, but never had another opportunity to see him play in person. This was even better — staring across the net from him.

"He's still competitive," Auriemma said. "You can see it. He wants to win."

At 56, McEnroe remains deeply involved in the sport he loves. He is a commentator, he runs a tennis academy on Randall's Island in New York, and he still plays regularly.

But he said recently that his days of playing in senior events may be numbered. There is a wave of retired players far younger than him and he's having difficulty finding peers to play against.

"I do love to play," McEnroe said. "You never get that spirit of competition, but you can have a little more fun with it, make sure you get the right guy that gets with the program, take it easy on the old man."

Courier's response: "I don't know what you're talking about."

McEnroe and Courier met the media before the pro-am, waxing poetic about their love for the sport and their desire to do anything to help their sport prosper. Wearing a Mets hats and Rangers T-shirt, McEnroe offered an analysis of the the U.S. Open — "This is a special moment obviously with Serena going for the Grand Slam." — and was asked about his last appearance in New Haven.

Remember, tennis fans? McEnroe, who played twice in New Haven, lost in the Round of 16 in the 1992 Volvo International. In his second-round victory over Thierry Guardiola, McEnroe knocked over an ESPN camera and drew a $3,000 fine from the ATP.

"If I remember correctly … it didn't end the way I wanted it to," McEnroe said. "There were some things that in some ways I was very unlucky and in other ways I was lucky, from what I recall. I came out of it somewhat unscathed considering what could have happened. I'll leave it at that."

Said Courier, "I'm curious. What happened?"

McEnroe said he didn't remember and smiled.

"There were some potential problems that could have arisen financially, as well as the fact I didn't do as well as I would have liked to," McEnroe said. "I believe that was way back in 1992. That's a long time ago. Conveniently, my memory has left me to some degree."

Under the lights and before a crowd of 4,800, it was vintage McEnroe. He won 6-4, 4-6, 1-0 (8) in a match that lasted 1 hour, 36 minutes. There were no line judges, as the players made calls with unlimited challenges. Two points into the match, McEnroe was screaming at the chair umpire.

Later, he threw his racket across the court. During one game in the first set, he slammed his racket on the ground twice before lofting a ball out of the stadium after losing the game.

But he mugged for the crowd, interacted with fans and flashed an occasional smile. And both players competed, chasing balls and lunging for shots amid long rallies.

"My competitive juices always flow," McEnroe said. "I don't step on the court that often. A match like this is way more meaningful for me than it appears."

[paul-doyle]

Hernandez Arrest Another Big Hit To NFL Image

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

June 29, 2013

It was a startling two days for the image-conscious NFL.

On Wednesday last week, in Massachusetts, Bristol native and tight end Aaron Hernandez of the Patriots was arrested for first-degree murder. A day earlier, in New Jersey, rookie linebacker Ausar Walcott of the Cleveland Browns was charged with attempted murder.

Both players were immediately released by their teams, but under the national media spotlight, the NFL was painted as a lawless organization.

There have been 37 arrests of NFL players this year, ranging from disorderly conduct and DUI to domestic violence and assault, according to a database kept by the San Diego Union-Tribune. But having two players arrested for murder charges Wednesday raised the issue of violent behavior in the NFL to a new level.

"There does appear to be a growing culture of violence and guns in and around the NFL," said former NFL quarterback Don McPherson, a college football commentator for SNY and a social activist who often speaks to college athletes. "I say 'appears' because there is more to it."

McPherson points out that the very same culture of violence and guns that touches the NFL is prevalent throughout society. In fact, the data maintained by the Union-Tribune show the NFL's rate of arrests is lower than that of the general population.

The FBI estimated the arrest rate for 2011 at just under 4 percent — four people for every 100 were arrested that year. For the same calendar year, 48 of about 1,700 players on NFL active rosters were arrested for a rate of 2.8 percent.

"Generally, the egregious behavior of pro athletes is not much different than men across the landscape," said Dan Lebowitz, executive director of Northeastern University's Sport in Society program. "We're sort of talking about an American culture that's rife with men behaving badly. … This is a social construct problem."

Of course, a straight comparison between NFL players and the general population is not exactly clean. NFL players have a strong support system in place from the league and teams, they have counselors at their disposal and the league offers rookie transition programs that educate players on the perils ahead of them. That system is not in place for just any young male in society.

"The NFL gets them when they're 22 years old," McPherson said. "A weekend seminar like the rookie transition program or three mandatory 90-minute sessions a year is not going to change 23 years of socialized behavior. … They're very immature men who, by the time they were classified as potential stars, have been really taken care of."

On the other hand, the perception of an out-of-control band of NFL players might be overblown because every brush with the law — from speeding tickets to serious charges — is reported by the media. The high-profile incidents cloud the fact that the vast majority of NFL players are not getting arrested.

"I think at some point you can say it's unfair," McPherson said. "But I talk to student-athletes all the time and I say, yeah, [the attention] is unfair, but keep in mind we don't build stadiums around the chemistry lab, right? So you have to take the good with the bad."

There has been a steady decline in arrests over the past seven years in the NFL. In 2006, 68 NFL players were arrested. The number was at 40 last year, although that data didn't include the murder-suicide by Kansas City Chiefs' player Jovan Belcher, who killed his girlfriend before taking his own life and therefore avoided an arrest.

Halfway through this year, the 37 arrests in the NFL go against recent trends of a decline, but soon players will be in NFL camps, so the season will start, and their lives will be much more structured. Titus Young, a free agent receiver, was arrested three times (burglary, resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer) in the span of a week in May.

As a comparison, the Associated Press reported that six NBA players and three Major League Baseball players have been arrested since July 1, 2012. Of course, there are far fewer players in those sports; an NFL active roster consists of 53 players, while NBA teams dress 12 players and the MLB active roster is 25.

Georgetown (Ky.) College sociology professor Eric M. Carter spent 10 years tracking 104 NFL players for his 2009 book "Boys Gone Wild: Fame, Fortune, And Deviance Among Professional Football Players." He found a population of athletes ill-prepared for the shift in lifestyle as they transition from unpaid college players to employees — sometimes highly paid employees — in the NFL.

"Some of the guys got in trouble because they simply haven't been able to handle that life shift that happens when they leave college and enter the NFL," Carter said. "There's this immediate star power that, in many ways, equals these unintended consequences. … You go from a non-working college player — even though you have status and you have the fame and all of that, but you don't have the $40 million contract. And what that sudden wealth and notoriety does, all of a sudden it isolates these guys from the traditional social norms that kind of govern most folks."

Hernandez signed a seven-year, $40 million deal with the Patriots last summer; he had been paid about $10.5 million of that so far between 2012 salary and signing bonus, according to the Boston Globe.

The NFL has focused on assisting players with the transition into the NFL. The league's Rookie Symposium took place last week in Ohio just as the Hernandez story was unfolding. The symposium is designed to prepare incoming players for the league and offer tools for navigating life away from the game, from managing finances to managing a circle of friends.

At this year's symposium, former NFL defensive lineman Tank Johnson — who was arrested multiple times for firearms offenses — addressed the rookies, warning that "while you're playing in the NFL, you do not need a firearm for any reason."

Whether the message from Johnson or others is absorbed is unclear, though. A lot has happened before the players reach the NFL. Some enter the league with a history of abhorrent behavior, from arrests to failed drug tests in college. Teams will gamble on talented players such as Hernandez, who slipped to the fourth round of the 2010 draft because many teams were concerned that he reportedly tested positive for marijuana while playing for Florida.

Of the 104 players Carter monitored over 10 years, about one-third were arrested.

"But most of the players admitted to engaging in stuff that, if they were caught, would be considered criminal," Carter said. "That behavior didn't necessarily start in the NFL."

McPherson said all professional sports leagues have become more progressive in dealing with social issues, but somehow a faction of players continue to lag behind.

"The NFL as a league and the sports industry has really evolved and matured and become very sophisticated, very fan-friendly … but the players don't seem to be enjoying that same maturity and sophistication," McPherson said. "You see bankruptcy rates [among players] as they are and you see players ill-prepared to handle this industry. ... John Wooden famously said that sports doesn't build character, it reveals it. Well, the NFL is revealing the lack of preparation of these young men who live a life of such notoriety and wealth."

McPherson said much of the deviant behavior of professional athletes is really a symptom of a larger social problem — the preferential treatment elite athletes receive throughout life. Those with a strong family structure will survive, but many athletes don't have that base.

Add the culture of violence and guns into the mix, and the results can be tragic.

"The NFL doesn't have a gun problem. … Society has a gun problem," McPherson said. "But when you start to look at where the culpability lands … it's the culture, it's family. There's only so much the NFL can do. There are a lot of reasons why this stuff happens."

NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell instituted the Personal Conduct Policy in 2007 and hasn't been shy about disciplining players for off-the-field conduct. Adam "Pacman" Jones, who spoke at the rookie symposium last week, was suspended for one year because if his involvement in a Las Vegas shooting.

It's not clear, though, that the suspension has changed Jones' behavior. He was arrested for allegedly striking a woman at a Cincinnati bar just last month.

Why do athletes at the height of their profession make such poor choices?

"The really striking finding that I had from my research was that about 50 percent of the players I followed self-reported that they were unhappy people, that they were quite miserable with their lives," Carter said. "That kind of goes against the kind of dominant, mainstream assumption that wealth brings happiness, that status and fame brings all the things that human beings want. That was the thing that really hit me, that these guys have everything that most of us want and they're miserable people. It's like they're on that treadmill. … They're searching and searching."

Lebowitz, who grew up in the Hartford area, said the Hernandez case is indicative of a larger societal problem that is far bigger than the NFL.

"What it's really about is the way that we acculturate boys in our world," Lebowitz said. "The way we acculturate boys is with a very limited definition of what manhood is. That manhood definition really boils down to, 'Can I beat you up? Can I take you down?' The definition really doesn't allow itself to include compassion or kindness. It's really about individualism … and hyper-masculinity and dominance and power. Given that construct of manhood, this type of outgrowth shouldn't come as a surprise."

[paul-doyle]

Outdoor Hockey Trend Stirs Memories Of Playing On Local Pond

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

February 12, 2011

It's the slab of ice where nostalgia and hockey intersect.

Wind swirling on a raw winter day while kids pad themselves in layers of thermal for day of skating on ponds or backyard rinks. For hours upon hours, they skate and shoot and pretend they're Gordie Howe, Bobby Orr or Wayne Gretzky.

Want to know why hockey players of a certain age love the idea of skating in the sun?

Listen to them talk.

"There were no nets out there, no coaches. … It was just being a blast," said Trinity College hockey coach Dave Cataruzolo, who grew up in Watertown, Mass.

ESPN anchor John Buccigross, who has a backyard rink at his South Windsor home, says: "There is no feeling like outside on a cold, calm day, skating in your backyard. One is never in a bad mood when skating."

Wesleyan hockey coach Chris Potter, who grew up in Rhode Island, offers this memory: "We would always just jump out there on a pond and play. Kids would just leave the house with their skates and be back when the light is going down."

Finally, there's Newington native and Fairfield resident T.R. Coccaro: "Pond hockey is about the most fun you can have playing the game. There's nothing like it. … There's a different feel to it. There's a different sound to it, the echo of the sticks on the ice."

Outdoor hockey has come to Connecticut this week, in the form of the Whalers Hockey Fest 2011 at Rentschler Field. The festival began Thursday and runs through Feb. 22, with the signature event Saturday when the Whalers and Bruins alumni team play before a Connecticut-Providence AHL game.

Connecticut's outdoor hockey turn follows a decade of outdoor games all over the world, most notably the annual NHL Winter Classics. In 2001, Michigan and Michigan State played outside before 74,554 at Spartan Stadium; the teams drew 113,411 at Michigan Stadium in December.

There have been games at revered stadiums such Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Fenway Park in Boston and Wrigley Field in Chicago. There have been junior hockey games, college games and minor league games outside, there is an annual national pond hockey tournament in Minnesota, and later this month there will be an outdoor NHL game in Calgary, Canada.

And all the while, writers have produced poetic prose about the outdoor game and documentarians have turns their lens on the bygone era of pond hockey. The outdoor hockey stories are legendary — Gretzky learning to handle the puck on a backyard rink built by his father, Orr honing his skating skills on a pond near his home.

For hockey players of a certain generation, there's a mysticism surrounding the outdoor game.

"It was a whole different ballgame," Cataruzolo, 35, said. "It's how we learned to play hockey, really. And I think fewer and fewer kids grow up playing outside. It is from another era."

Hartford Whalers founder Howard Baldwin, the organizer of the Rentschler event, believes the revived interest in outdoor hockey began with the release of the 1999 film "Mystery, Alaska." Full disclosure: Baldwin's Hollywood production company produced the Russell Crowe film, which was about a team of local residents who face the New York Rangers outside.

Whether Baldwin's movie sparked the revival or not, the NHL is embracing in the outdoor trend. Buccigross, who grew up playing outdoor hockey in Pennsylvania and Ohio, became consumed with the sport while hosting NHL 2Night in the late 1990s.

By the winter of 2000-2001, he built his first rink. His oldest son, Brett, who is now playing at Kingswood Oxford, was 8 and just learning the game when Buccigross built the rink.

To hear Buccigross, the outdoor rink has played a central role in the childhood of his three kids over the past decade.

"On January 1, 2002, we skated at the stroke of midnight under a full moon," Buccigross said in an e-mail. "My kids love it because there are no cones and no whistles, no one yelling at them. … The kids will spend 3-4 hours a day and not even blink an eye. It's one of the best things I have done as a parent."

UConn hockey coach Bruce Marshall, 48, has memories of his father bringing a bantam team onto the pond ice in his hometown of West Boylston, Mass. When the pond receded, the fire department added water to help improve the quality of ice.

"That's how we learned," Marshall said. "My dad would put floodlights up and there, and that's where we'd practice. Hey, this is the only place we had a sheet of ice."

By the time Marshall was playing at UConn in the early 1980s, outdoor hockey was part of his life. The Huskies played outdoors until an enclosed rink was constructed on campus in 1998, but Marshall was undaunted.

"It's what I was used to," Marshall said.

Now in his 23rd year as coach, he has seen a shift. A few years ago, he took his team to a pond for an outdoor practice and was surprised to hear one player say it was his first time skating outside — surprised, because the player was from western Canada.

"It's generational," Marshall said.

Indeed, John Dunham saw the change during his 33 years as Trinity coach. When he began a volunteer goalie coach in the late 1960s, Trinity was playing at an outdoor rink at Colt Park and the players grew up playing outdoors. By the time Dunham retired in 2007, players were arriving to Trinity from organized programs and prep school. The players learned the game through early-morning indoor practices, not by skating on a neighborhood pond.

People still play pond hockey, but rinks have replaced ponds as training grounds and formal programs have replaced the time when a kid and his stick would be on the pond for hours.

"The kids just don't handle the puck enough," Dunham said. "It's kind of like sandlot baseball, people going out and hitting you 500 grounders every day. That's what you have to do. You can't have everything structured, standing in line. You don't get the puck skills and the finesse and develop the soft hands with an hour of practice every day when you're standing in line."

Dunham recalls what former Whaler Andre Lacroix told him about his youth hockey experience in Quebec.

"He used to skate on the black ice on a river up in Quebec with his eyes closed, just skate with a puck on his stick for an hour every day," Dunham said. "And that's how you developed skills."

Dunham grew up in Redding and first skated on a local pond in the 1950s. He attended The Taft School in Watertown, where hockey practice for underclassmen was held on a pond behind the school.

And in those days, many of the prep schools and high schools played on outdoor rinks.

"Taft had a rink with roof, but with no sides," Dunham said. "So it was pretty darn cold. It was nasty, but you just did it. You didn't know anything better. You worked up a sweat and that took the chill off. And you'd dress warm; you'd have long underwear and stuff."

Coccaro, 35, graduated from Newington High School in 1993 before playing at West Point. He learned to skate on local ponds and is now a devoted outdoor player in Fairfield County, so devoted that he has played in pond hockey tournaments at the Adirondack Ice Bowl in New York last year and at the U.S. Pond Hockey Championships last month in Minnesota. He will be skating with a men's team at Rentschler Friday night.

On Christmas Eve, he was skating on a pond in Fairfield with two of his children. And on any given night in the winter, he can be found playing with various friends on ponds.

"You know, it is a lifetime sport," Coccaro said. "You can't play football when you're 35, but you can get out on a pond. It really does harken back. … It's like we're still kids."

[paul-doyle]

Wheelchair Basketball Camp In South Windsor Teaches Kids More Than Game

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

July 18, 2010

SOUTH WINDSOR — One by one, they posed for pictures and said their goodbyes.

Sean Chamberland, 11, leaned close to Ryan Martin and smiled for the camera before offering a high-five. Linas Pagano, 15, made his way through the gymnasium at Nomads Adventure Quest, shook hands with campers and coaches, and dribbled a basketball a few more times before leaving.

A few of the 15 or so kids who spent parts of four days at Martin's wheelchair basketball camp lingered, exchanged contact information and talked about seeing each other again. As the camp broke after a speech from former NBA player and new UConn assistant coach Kevin Ollie early Friday afternoon, the athletes and coaches were separating while reiterating their bond.

"Now, Sean … call me if you need anything," said camp counselor Josh Rodriguez, who plays for the Connecticut Spokebenders wheelchair basketball team. "You need to talk or you have questions … anything, you call me."

Rodriguez gave Chamberland's mother his phone number and lowered his voice as he repeated his offer — call anytime.

That's the kind of mentoring Martin had in mind when he conceived of a wheelchair basketball camp for kids. Martin, who grew up in Somers, plays professional wheelchair basketball in Spain, and his camp staff featured some high-level players: Rodriguez and fellow Spokebender Carlos Quiles, along with 2004 Paralympian and fellow Spanish league professional Josh Turek.

The camp drew kids from towns from Mystic to Brookfield and several spots in between. The campers ranged in age from 10 to 18, some with no basketball experience and others with advanced skills.

But while the competition was intense and the novices made noticeable strides over the four half-day sessions, the kids learned an array of lessons.

"The benefits for them are immeasurable, beyond basketball," Martin said. "Every basketball camp, they say it's more than basketball. But I think with the dynamic of the kids that we're dealing with, it really is that."

Martin, 31, is uniquely qualified to teach basketball and life lessons to kids who are sometimes the only disabled students in their class. Born with spina bifida, Martin's legs were amputated before he turned 2 and he grew up with 12 siblings — eight were adopted, some with special needs.

After discovering wheelchair basketball as an early teen, Martin began playing for a traveling team in Boston and wound up earning a scholarship to Southwest Minnesota State University. His college career led to an opportunity in Europe, and he spends his winters playing in Spain.

As it turned out, his experiences growing up in a wheelchair and being part of a diverse family drew him to advocacy. He works in mentoring for the Hospital for Special Care in New Britain and visits the schools attended by the kids who attend his camp.

Martin and Rodriguez talk to able-body students about the needs of the disabled, and they might demonstrate wheelchair basketball.

"Yes, this is a basketball camp," Martin said. "Yes, I want to see them make baskets and do things quicker. But if I can make their experience going to school a little bit easier and they get an athletic opportunity — these were things that I didn't have — then I'm thrilled. That's what I'm looking for."

Pagano, who attends Brookfield High, is the youngest player on the Spokebenders. Playing on a team with adults has helped his game, but it has also provided him with mentors.

"I've seen what they can do," Pagano said. "You learn so much from these guys. So many little things about basketball and just getting around. Things a lot of people just take for granted."

Martin, who was a town camp counselor in Somers as a teenager, held a one-day clinic two years ago before expanding it into a camp in 2009. There is no fee, which means he relies on fundraising and donations to cover his costs.

This year, he had many returning campers and the age range was obvious during games — teenagers such as Pagano, Ben Wallek of Windsor, Rachel Grusse of Glastonbury and Colleen Rock of Farmington were physically stronger than the 11-year-olds on the court. Yet, the ball was distributed among all the players, and the support among teammates never wavered.

"There's an intrinsic value," Martin said. "If there's an 11-year-old with spina bifida, I can say this [older kid] with spina bifida can do that. So they can see it. A lot of times, if I go to a kid and say I can do it, they say, 'Well, you're a professional athlete.' If I can point to someone who's three years older, that gives them that little extra motivation.

“Plus, one of the things I strive to foster is the concept that it kind of takes a village to raise a child. When you have individuals with disabilities, one kid might have figured out how to transfer from a wheelchair to another chair. He can show another kid. It's a continuous education process. That's something they don't have in their day-to-day because they may go to a school with 500 kids and be the only kid with a disability."

The camp ended with four 30-minutes games that crowned a champion. Quiles' team beat Turek's team 14-10 in the title game, but players and coaches were talking afterward about how close games were over the course of four days.

There were overtime games Friday and a triple-overtime game Thursday.

"I thought it would never end," said 11-year-old Ronald Tasker of Tolland. "We just kept playing and playing."

Martin said the camp provided a competitive outlet for some kids who have little opportunity to play sports. The competition of the games is often underrated by people who think of the sport as strictly a form of rehabilitation.

"More so in this country," Martin said. "In Europe, we draw crowds. People appreciate it as a sport."

At its highest level, there is a speed and flow to the sport. There is the smell of burned rubber from the wheels and the sound of players screeching at one another.

"It really is a great sport to watch at that level," Turek said.

In seven weeks, Martin will be back playing at that level in Spain. He'll be back in Connecticut in May 2011 and is planning to run two full-day camps next year, which means more fundraising because Martin is committed to keeping the camps free.

As the camp ended Friday, Martin enjoyed the feedback from parents and campers as he began thinking about next year's sessions.

"I'm happy that they're learning how to dribble and stuff like that, but I'd be lying if I didn't say there was a bigger picture," Martin said. "There are life lessons for these kids."

[paul-doyle]

Program Foundation Geno And CD Laid At UConn In 1985 Is Holding Up Just Fine

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

April 9, 2016

The practices began with the basics. Passing and shooting, layup drills, running from one end of the court to the other.

There was individual and team work on defense and offense, the voices of a 31-year-old Geno Auriemma and his assistant Chris Dailey, just eight years out of high school, filling a tiny gym.

It was 1985 and Geno and CD were laying the foundation for their program. The UConn Huskies were coming off a losing season and the new coaches were attempting to overhaul the culture in Storrs.

What's a practice like in 2016? Cut and paste the above. Add more individual work before and after practice. Transport the session into a multimillion-dollar practice facility adorned with championship banners.

Otherwise, not much has changed.

"You're not reinventing the wheel," Dailey recently said. "The demands of practice are the same. The demands that we put on them physically and, really, the mental challenges of getting it right, that's remained the same."

And they have gotten it right — Auriemma is in the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, he has won more titles than any Division I coach in history, the 11th coming Tuesday night in an 82-51 victory over Syracuse. Dailey made the Huskies of Honor wall this season, a surprise from Auriemma in March on Senior Day.

In three decades, Auriemma and Dailey have always sent a consistent message, one that works in 2016 as well as it did 30 years ago.

"Then and now, we're never accepting of lack of effort," Dailey said. "You want to know the constant in this program? Lack of effort is not acceptable."

Adapt And Thrive

Auriemma was six years into his tenure when UConn took a step onto the national stage. With nearly 8,000 at Lakefront Arena in New Orleans, UConn fell to Virginia in a national semifinal game in 1991.

It was the first hint of what was ahead. But even the brash young coach could not have conceived what has transpired in the past quarter century.

"It never, ever crossed my mind that what has happened since then was even remotely possible," Auriemma said. "That would have been like you telling me back then, 'You know what, in 2016 you're going to have a phone in your hand and it's going to make you drive into other cars because you're going to be on it all the time.'

"I would have said you're out of your mind, right? That's how improbable it would have been to tell me we would be where we are."

About those phones that seemed so implausible in 1991? For the most successful generation of UConn players, smartphones and social media are a way of life.

The kids who have won four titles in a row and 75 consecutive games have grown up on social media.

"It's a totally different world," Sue Bird said.

Different from when Bird was at UConn 15 years ago. Go back to when UConn won its first title in 1995 and compare how much the world has changed for college kids.

"That's two decades of culture, of 18-years-olds, of fashion, of music, of different styles of basketball," Diana Taurasi said. "If you look back on it, the teams and the programs that struggle can't evolve. They're stuck in some era that they can't get past. Coach and CD, they've evolved into whatever needed to be at that time."

Taurasi was standing in the gym after USA Basketball practice in February as she scanned the floor for ex-Huskies. She rattled off names: Jennifer Rizzotti, Bird and herself, Maya Moore, and Breanna Stewart.

They spanned 20 years and were each part of title teams.

"That's four completely different generations of technology, of pretty much everything in life," Taurasi said. "And [Auriemma's] been able to take what he learned through all those years and make it better."

Taurasi jokes that Auriemma has learned to embrace his smartphone and now communicates best with his ex-players via text. In fact, the divide in technology between the college-age players and the 62-year-old coach isn't as wide as one might think.

Are his players glued to their iPhones? He gets it.

"Look, there's nobody who's on his phone more than Geno Auriemma," Dailey said. "Checking, reading information. He's on overload most of the time. It's not mindless. It could be CNN, it could be world news, it could be sports news or whatever. … But he uses the technology. I think we've all evolved. We've had to."

To Dailey, the need for texting and Snapchatting and tweeting and retweeting is not necessarily a problem. Kids love to stay connected to one another.

But the selfie generation does pose its unique challenges.

"We're in a world now where everything is about me, me, me, me, me," Dailey said. "Kids are all about them. Their parents are all about them. Their texting is all about them. They retweet things about themselves. That boggles my mind. Who does that? Why don't you let other people say nice things about you. You don't have to retweet it. It's already been out there. … It's not even their own fault. It's the world they live in."

So how does UConn weed out the me-first players? Auriemma said that when he brings recruits into Gampel Pavilion, he makes note of how they view the title banners.

"The world's changed so much," Auriemma said. "Kids come in. They're not impressed with stuff anymore."

He recently brought a recruit into the building and pointed at the banners.

"See all this?" Auriemma said. "She said yeah. I said, you're probably not that impressed. You can probably get this anywhere. And I just left it at that."

Said Dailey, "For us, it's trying to get them from the 'me, me, me, me' over there, which is part of their world, to over here, which is 'we, we, we, we,' which is about us. It sometimes takes some kids longer than others. It's definitely a transition."

Family Time

What is the defining characteristic of the UConn women's basketball program under Auriemma?

"Commitment, passion, attention to detail, family, work ethic, competitiveness," Moore said.

From Bird: "It's like a demand for consistency and for excellence. The bar is really high and he expects you to hit it every time. There are no excuses."

From 1985 through 2016, the standards have been the same. Auriemma can be demanding in practice. He'll prod players with his unique brand of humor.

"Sarcastic," said Carla Berube, a captain in the 1990s.

But the practices, while demanding, are consistent. Bird will drop into Storrs and work out with the team during the season. She is astonished by how things are the same, from the drills to the terminology.

She's not alone.

"I feel like I can go put practice gear on and I can go through every drill, I can go through practice with my eyes closed," Taurasi said. "And you know what? There are certain things that work."

On the court, it's about effort. Every day, whether it's at practice or in a game.

Off the court, it's about blending into a team concept. But Dailey said Auriemma's coaching staffs have always had the ability to adapt to the personality of the players, pushing buttons based on what each individual needs.

"I am nothing if not consistent," Dailey said. "We as a staff are consistent in terms of our demands. We're consistent in that we set the bar high. Who doesn't want the bar to be set high?"

So what does the 1985 version of Geno Auriemma have in common with the Geno Auriemma of 2016, a grandfather who has 955 wins and only 134 losses? They're both smart, curious, ambitious, demand excellence — and always witty.

He joked during the NCAA Tournament that he couldn't recite anything on John Wooden's pyramid of success, but he believes his pyramid of success is the same as the man he passed for most titles in Division I history.

"His was [Lew] Alcindor, [Bill] Walton and Gail Goodrich, and you name them down the line," Auriemma said. "Mine is Diana [Taurasi], Maya [Moore], Stewie. That's my pyramid of success. And I think that's every great coach's pyramid of success."

Yet perhaps most important: Geno, at his core, was and is a people person.

"Geno hasn't changed," said longtime friend Doug Bruno, the DePaul coach and Auriemma's assistant with the USA National team. "He's always been the same guy. He's always been a great person. That's maybe what people don't understand, how good he is to people. They see his quick-witted shtick, which is all a function of great intelligence. But what they don't understand is that more than anything, he cares about people."

Bruno has known Auriemma since the mid-1980s and he respects Auriemma's deep knowledge of the game. But there are lots of coaches who have mastered the X's and O's. What separates Auriemma — what has always separated Auriemma, Bruno said — is his ability to deal with various personalities..

"He knows how to extract and administer tough love and get these guys to be the best they can be, and getting them to understand what they need to do, and to like it," Bruno said. "He did that when he started and he's still doing that. That's the genius of Geno. It's all about his people skills. Doesn't matter what generation you're in. The people skills are the same."

That might explain why there were more than 30 former players celebrating UConn's 11th national title Tuesday night in Indianapolis. The former players were on the court, posing for pictures together and mingling with current players.

"They're not being pulled back by the alumni director," Bruno said. "They want to be back. There's a culture there of wanting to be here."

After three decades, there are no surprises. Recruits know what to expect. They've seen Auriemma on ESPN and know his humor, his personality, his expectations. They've heard the stories.

"I definitely remember a lot of yelling, a lot of chirping and molding in his style," Moore said. "Tina [Charles], myself, we were probably the two that got yelled at the most. … He's always looking to get his players better and teach the game in a way that he hopes will stick with them."

Moore and Charles, of course, were the two best players on the team.

No matter the era it does not change.

"He does a lot of different things from benching you to giving you the silent treatment … to pushing you in practice," Stewart said. "But he has a lot of different ways to push buttons, and we're all different people, but he still knows how to light a fire under someone."

Said Dailey: "We've been here with so many generations that you have to adapt. Not the entire generation, per se, but who's on your team. How do they learn? How can you challenge them? What is their boredom level? How do they respond to certain things."

The great ones respond by getting even better.

"Part of his ability to win here and his ability to be so consistent is the personality that he has in terms of demanding the best, every single game, every single practice, every single possession," Bird said. "When you're with him for seven, eight months, that stuff really starts to click and you really take on his identity. Which is, perfection.”

[paul-doyle]

No Barriers: For Karen Smith, 'There's A Way To Do Everything'

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

September 28, 2014

The doctors delivered the news that would change Karen Smith's life. She was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis 24 years ago and was experiencing ascending paralysis, a condition that would confine her to a wheelchair.

Her response: "How am I going to ski?"

Her doctor paused and reiterated the diagnosis, asking if she understood her plight.

"I got that," Smith recalled saying. "So ... how am I going to ski?"

It wasn't long before Smith figured it out. She wound up in a wheelchair, but she never altered her athletic pursuits. In fact, she became more active, embracing adaptive sports such as downhill and water skiing, wheelchair tennis, handcycling and sled hockey.

After so many years of living with MS, Smith continues to thrive. At 62, she recently earned a spot on the USA Women's Sled Hockey Team.

Competing with players as young as 17, she is the team's starting goaltender. Smith, who lives in East Haven, works as a personal trainer and is perpetually moving, whether in the gym, on the tennis court or on the ice.

Athletics, a love while growing up in North Branford, has become a lifestyle in the years since her life was transformed by MS.

In fact, her ability to cope with her disease has very much been tied to athletics. Sports provided an outlet for her competitive streak and she found a welcoming community in the world of adaptive sports. She forged friendships through sports, made connections with other athletes, and discovered a world where she was not defined by her disability.

"I actually am thankful, sometimes, that I ended up with [MS]," Smith said. "That's a crazy thing to say, but I wouldn't know any of these people if I didn't."

Beyond the friendships, adaptive sports is a world that suits her personality.

"What I figured out right away is that you just have to take the bull by the horn and say, 'You know what, I'm going to be as fit as I can be and not let this disease take over,' " Smith said. "And I'm very thick-headed. If people tell me I can't do something, I want to do it even more.

"So as soon as I found a way, I tried to do it the best that I could do and stay as healthy as I can."

Mind And Body

Adaptive sports were still in their infancy in the early 1990s. Smith was initially advised to rest and preserve her health because lethargy is a common symptom of MS.

Smith played softball and basketball when she was in school, but she was a serious downhill skier for most of her adult life and wasn't about to turn passive after her diagnosis. She knew the story of Jimmie Heuga, a 1964 Olympic skier who advocated for exercise and athletics for MS patients after he was diagnosed with the disease in 1970.

After Smith expressed her interest in skiing, her physical therapist found a story in a journal on an adaptive skiing program in Colorado. Smith began researching the subject and found options for skiing and an array of sports with evolving equipment.

It was a revelation, physically and emotionally.

"Obviously, you go into a depression when you find out you've got some debilitating disease," Smith said. "For me, it was important to know I could be active."

It took three years of visiting doctors before Smith was diagnosed with MS. Her symptoms continually changed — one day an arm was numb, the next day it wasn't; one morning she couldn't get out of bed, the next day she was fine.

It was a moving target for doctors and Smith was mystified. Over that time, she was sent to a psychotherapist because "somebody, somewhere along the line always tells you that it's all in your head."

"You end up going to a couple of different shrinks and somebody is patting you on the back and saying, 'Oh I'm so sorry you have to deal with this,' " Smith said. "I did that once or twice and I was like, 'Oh my God, this is totally not what I need.' "

It was the same after her diagnosis. She was advised to attend an MS support group. Smith was seeking information and resources, but instead she found people talking about their condition.

It wasn't her thing.

"Before I was diagnosed, I had one neurologist who was also a psychologist and he said something I'll never forget," Smith said. "He looked at me and said, 'I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to find out.' He was honest with me. That's what I wanted. Just be direct."

That is Smith's personality. Her idea of therapy is moving from one activity to another, always with her service dog, Ginger, by her side. Smith worked as a veterinary technician for many years and her dogs have always been at the center of her world.

Ginger is the official mascot of the USA Women's Sled Hockey Team, taking a place on the bench during games and joining the team on the ice after games.

"She is my service dog and my life," Smith said. "People that know me from anywhere know Ginger."

When Smith recently had an opportunity to experiment with a new adaptive sport involving dogs, she couldn't wait to try. She sat in a four-wheel cycle being pulled by four dogs in rural New Hampshire, experiencing adaptive dog sledding for the first time.

"It was a blast," Smith said.

That's indicative of her approach to all sports. She doesn't just sample a new sport, she seizes it and pushes herself to excel. She played very little tennis before her diagnosis, yet became a nationally ranked wheelchair tennis player in the 1990s and created a Connecticut-based adaptive tennis team.

To Smith, life is about doing.

Long before her diagnosis, Smith vowed to skydive before she turned 50. She was scheduled to have shoulder surgery just before her birthday, but that didn't stop her.

"It was my goal," Smith said. "I had to do it."

A Star On The Ice

It was about that time when she took up sled hockey, a sport that has become the heart of her athletic life. She wasn't much of a hockey fan before hearing about the adaptive sport, but she loves sports that encompass speed and action. Women's sled hockey, unlike women's able-body hockey, includes checking — a draw for Smith.

The sport also provided an incentive to improve her fitness. The shoulder surgery curtailed her physical activity and she gained weight as a side effect from a steroid medication.

"I knew as soon as I got on the ice that I needed to get into shape," Smith said. "It was the best thing to happen to me. It forced me to take care of myself."

Smith became the goaltender for the Connecticut Wolfpack, a coed sled hockey team that competes in the Northeast Sled Hockey League against teams from Maine to Maryland. She also began playing for the national team in 2009, facing men's teams in tournaments and playing international competitions against teams from Canada and Europe.

Women's sled hockey is not part of the Paralympic Games, although that could change over the next few years. The sport is expected to be an exhibition sport in 2018 and Smith suspects it could be a medal sport by 2022, inspiring her to keep playing.

"I'll be 70 … but I want that medal," Smith said.

Smith, a personal trainer at a fitness facility in Branford, works out everyday and trains with a physical therapist. But hockey is the incentive to remain fit.

In June, Smith found a doctor to operate on her shoulder after her personal doctor told her the injury was beyond repair.

She had the surgery for one reason.

"Really, I only did the surgery for hockey," Smith said. "I could have lived with it, the way it was, and been fine. But I did it to improve my game and to keep playing."

She saw the benefits at the national team's tryout camp in Minnesota in early September. She played well and earned a spot on a team that is ranked No. 1 in the world and will be participating in the Women's International Championship in Canada Nov. 7-9.

Competing With Kids

Part of her motivation, Smith said, is competing with kids. Her teammates, she says, are like her family and it's beneficial being among peers of all ages who share her perspective.

"It keeps me young," Smith said. "They treat me like a teammate … not like their grandmother, which I'm old enough to be."

Her age does provide some comic fodder for the team, especially when she removes her mask after a game and opponents — usually a men's team — realize they couldn't score against the oldest player on the ice.

That's a point of pride for Smith. She enjoys surprising people, challenging preconceived notions about age and disabilities.

"On a daily basis, people look at you different because you're in a wheelchair," Smith said. "On a daily basis, you're treated like you are handicapped. So you have to prove to people that you're not. I'm differently-abled. I'm not necessarily handicapped."

That's the message she conveys to others like her. Smith has been an instructor at the Ivan Lendl Adaptive Sports Camp, and she speaks to patients at Gaylord Hospital in Wallingford, running tennis clinics on the hospital grounds.

The pattern is often the same. A person recently diagnosed with MS or recently paralyzed may watch Smith play tennis, but it takes time for her message to resonate.

"It's tough to get them to get it in the beginning," Smith said. "You can talk to them, but they often have what we call the giant crip-chip on their shoulder. In other words, they've just become crippled — which is a word nobody uses anymore, except those of us that are — so they've got that chip on their shoulder because they're never going to be able to do anything again.

"They might say, 'I used to play tennis,' and I'll tell them that they still can. They'll say, 'No, real tennis.' …. I'll tell them to just watch a little of this and tell me it's not real tennis."

Eventually, many will come around and inquire about adaptive sports. Her message is always the same — there are no barriers.

"If you want to do something, there's a way," Smith said.

For Smith, sports continue to feed her competitive nature and provide an emotional outlet. She believes staying fit has helped control flare-ups from MS and she's happiest when she's competing.

Healthy body, healthy mind.

"I know that not everybody is into sports," Smith said. "But sometimes people in wheelchairs think they can't do something with their kids or they can't go on a bike ride with their kids. Well, they can. They just have to get a handcycle. There's a way to do everything. I've learned that. You can do anything."

[paul-doyle]

Jose Colon: A Lifetime Of Improving Lives Through Boxing

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

June 27, 2015

HARTFORD — On a muggy June afternoon, a stream of kids files into the boxing gym on Franklin Avenue and each one takes the same route inside.

One by one, they shake hands with boxers of all ages. Eventually, each finds the 72-year-old man with a white ponytail.

Jose Colon hugs some, jostles with others, smiles at all of them.

"God bless," he tells his boxers as they come and go.

On the second floor of a nondescript South End building, Colon imparts his wisdom to the members of the Hartford Boxing Center. The man who's been training fighters for more than 40 years barks advice near the speed bag and has plenty to say as one boxer dances in the ring in front of a mirror.

But the boxing tutorials are just part of the reason fighters are drawn to the man they affectionately call "Papo." Outside the ring or standing behind a counter in the gym, Colon spends his days continually chatting with kids who arrive from as close as Hartford's neighborhoods or from as far as Colon's native Puerto Rico.

"He's a father figure," said 21-year-old Edwin Rodriguez, who travels to the gym each day from New Britain. "I can talk to him about anything. I can talk to him about girls, I can talk to him about family issues, things outside of the ring. He's a trainer, but he spends most of his time outside of the ring. ... He shows a lot of love."

Colon gushes about the 18-year-old kid who has shed close to 100 pounds since walking into the Boxing Center 11 months ago. He speaks compassionately about an adult boxer wearing an ankle bracelet in the ring because he's just out of prison and looking for a new path as a boxer.

When one of his prized boxers, 15-year-old Richie Otero, arrived for a workout, Papo grinned and shook his hand.

The two leaned into one another, touching foreheads.

"This is my life," Colon said. "This is all I need. I'm surrounded by so much love here. … This is my home."

Important Hartford Home

Hartford has a long boxing history, but the sport's popularity is fading on national and local level. The city was once sprinkled with boxing gyms, but few facilities remain — not only in Hartford, but in the region.

Enter Tony Blanco, a New York native who lived in Central Florida. Blanco's wife, Leticia, grew up in Hartford, so Blanco wound up in the area, too. One of Blanco's work colleagues was David Bauza, who represented Puerto Rico as a decorated amateur boxer before starting a professional career.

Bauza was unbeaten in six professional bouts, but his last fight was in 2010. He spoke to Blanco about reviving his career and suggested they open a gym.

Blanco had no experience in boxing, but he and his wife were game. They needed person to run the gym and train Bauza.

"[Bauza] said there was only one guy," Blanco said. "But he was in Puerto Rico. I told him, whatever it takes. We'll bring him back."

Colon, Bauza's former trainer, had been in Puerto Rico attending to his elderly mother. But by early last year, he was back in Hartford and looking for a gig — he was no longer at the gym once known as the San Juan Center in Hartford's North End.

Bauza found Colon and the South End's new gym became a reality.

"I can't say enough about him," Blanco said. "This is his life. … I get choked up talking about him. He just gives so much."

Since the Boxing Center opened last fall, membership has risen above 150, with more 600 sign-ups for various programs. There are 73 Hartford kids involved in activities at the gym, which operates as a non-profit corporation.

Blanco said the club's growing popularity — along with a rent dispute — is prompting a relocation. This summer, the center will move to Ledyard Street, in the area of Airport Road and Wethersfield Avenue in the South End. It's a larger space that will still primarily serve the neighborhood, although the center has drawn from far beyond the South End.

Eric Heriberto Rodriguez, 21, travels from the North End to train with Colon. A former Golden Gloves fighter in Reading, Pa., Rodriguez drifted away from boxing not long after moving to Hartford.

He trained with Colon at the San Juan Center a few years ago and was thrilled to see Papo when he entered the Hartford Boxing Center in early June.

"He's got a good heart," Rodriguez said. "He cares about a lot of people. He's a good person. … When I saw him, it was like a sign. I was supposed to be here."

Edwin Rodriguez trained with John Scully at the Lion's Den gym in Middletown, but Scully moved to Florida a few years ago. Rodriguez struggled after his mother died two years ago and he was unable to find a suitable gym in New Britain.

He landed at the Hartford Boxing Center in May and immediately clicked with Colon. While he works full-time at Stop & Shop in New Britain, he makes a daily commute to the South End for a session with Papo.

"Since my mother passed away ... I've been trying to find a gym that just shows me love," Rodriguez said. "The first day I walked into this gym, Papo just looked at me and said 'Do you trust me? Do you feel safe here?' I said yeah. … He said, 'welcome home.' It's been like that ever since."

Michael Tran, the center's co-owner and a former amateur boxer, said Colon's demeanor — playful with children, paternal with teenagers, demanding with adults — is ideal for the population that filters through the gym. And it's what attracts boxers, some of whom journey from Puerto Rico for a chance to train with Papo.

Victor Medina, 16, has been a daily presence at the gym since he moved to Hartford from Puerto Rico. Medina, an amateur fighter in Puerto Rico, scanned the Internet in search of a gym in Northeast and decided on the Hartford Boxing Center.

He found friends from back home in Hartford, and convinced his family that this gym and this trainer were right.

"His grandma spoke to me," Colon said. "She said, 'I know my grandson will be in good hands.' For me, that's worth $1 million."

Medina, who plans to enroll in school in the fall, arrives at the gym early and stays late. He trains, helps around the gym and doesn't stray far from Papo. When he's hungry, Colon sends out for food.

Boxing Roots

Colon was born in Puerto Rico and his family moved to New York City's Lower East Side when he was 4. The family returned to Puerto Rico seven years later, just before Colon nearly died in a serious car accident.

Driving with his grandmother, Colon remembers another vehicle rolling over his car. He said he nearly lost his legs and doctors told his mother that he might not survive.

"I don't know why I'm here, why God saved me," Colon said. "Maybe he had me for this. Maybe this was my purpose in life."

At 19, he moved back to New York. The Lower East Side was a rough neighborhood in the early 1960s and Colon struggled to find his place. When he few neighborhood brutes began giving him trouble, Colon decided he needed to learn boxing skills.

He walked into the Gramercy Gym on East 14th Street. That wasn't just any gym — owned and operated by the legendary Cus D'Amato, it was where Floyd Patterson trained.

"First time they put me in, they put me in with guys who already had fights," Colon said. "I was knocking them down. I said to myself, I can do this."

Those street toughs? They never bothered Colon again.

But Colon found his home at Gramercy. Three months after arriving, he had his first bout. He quickly distinguished himself and soon represented New York City in an international tournament in the Dominican Republic.

Of the eight fighters from Venezuela, Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic and the United States, only Colon was unbeaten. In his early 20s, Colon turned professional and was 1-1 as a 140-pound boxer.

But that was the end of his career. Colon fell in love.

"She didn't want me to fight," Colon said. "I told her, 'Give me a kid and I'll quit boxing.' … She gave me my first daughter."

There would be another daughter and a son. Colon didn't stray from the gym, immersing himself into a career as a trainer while remaining in the same Lower East Side neighborhood.

Colon trained a stable of fighters, including super featherweight contender Carmelo Negron. Colon began training Negron when the fighter was 15, guiding him through an amateur career before Negron stepped into a ring at Madison Square Garden.

By coincidence, Negron settled in Hartford later in life and died in the city two years ago.

"He was something else," Colon said.

Colon brought lightweight Ruby Ortiz to the Hartford Civic Center in 1981, when his fighter lost to Marlon Starling. Over the years, he trained professionals and amateurs of all ages while remaining steeped in his neighborhood.

By the mid-1990s, Colon was ready for a change. His brother lived in Hartford and Colon knew about the city's rich boxing history, not to mention its strong Puerto Rican community.

He visited and he was convinced.

His daughters, Yesenia and Rosemary, followed him to Connecticut. Both are in their early 40s and still live in the area. His son, Jose Luis — named after Joe Louis — lives in Florida, and his ex-wife lives in New York.

Colon was based at the San Juan Center for years, working with Hartford boxing figures such as George Cruz, Johnny Duke, Pepe Vasquez, Sammy Vega and Scully. Just as he did in New York, Colon found a boxing home in Hartford.

Now he's running his own gym, a place where he often sleeps at night.

Four years ago, Colon had heart surgery but still gets in the ring with his fighters..

"Boxing is a life saver," Colon said. "I have a lot of guys, they hang out on the streets, they get in trouble. You look outside, it's drugs, drugs, shootings. It's bad. I know what it's like. It's like my old neighborhood [in New York]. We can give these kids something, right here. Boxing has changed the lives of a lot of people. … It changed my life."