FINALLY, UNC WOMEN’S SOCCER COACH Anson Dorrance got his team into a game
that counted, a big game, and a game where his team wasn’t favored — then won it.
About time, I’d say.
OK, I know what you Pollyannas are saying: But didn’t his teams win 18 NCAA
national championships before last Sunday’s upset victory over Notre Dame? Well, of
course they did — but please note that almost all of those teams were favored. Who
can’t coach a win against an underdog?
Finally, a Dorrance-led UNC squad has beaten a team that has beaten them. Year after
year UNC wins national championships — but only after beating teams they have
already beaten. In 30 years of varsity play, all under Dorrance, UNC is 672-33-2. With
teams like that it doesn’t take much coaching, coach. Just send’em out saying,
“Whatever you did last time, do it again.”
I will admit, because the record shows it is so, that Dorrance’s teams can win and have
won — when they were picked to win. But who couldn’t do that? Many careful and
scientific post-hoc studies of competitive sports show that the better team always
wins.
You don’t have to be a great coach to “lead” your great team to victory over a
mediocre one. You can just stand there with your arms crossed — like Dorrance
usually does. Dorrance has described himself as a “women’s soccer cheerleader.”
With that placid arm-crossed pose, I’ll tell you he’s not much of one.
Sorry, Dorrance but most of your championships don’t really amount to much. Who
couldn’t win with Mia Hamm, Kristine Lilly, Tisha Venturini Cindy Parlow, Cat Reddick,
Heather O’Reilly and now Casey Nogueira? Just trot’em out on the field and say, “Go
get’em, girls!” That’s about all you have to do.
OK, so Dorrance has “coached” UNC to 20 national championships — if you include
the one from the AIAW, whatever that is, that UNC won back before the NCAA realized
women could play soccer. Real coaching, by a real coach, doesn’t consist of leading a
team of winners to a win. Like what else were they going to do? Real coaching
consists of taking losers and eaking out a totally improbable victory with completely
improbable plays.
The late Jim Valvano won playing Chuck Nevitt. Now that takes talent — not from
Chuck Nevitt, mind you — unless you count being seven-foot-five-inches tall as talent.
While Nevitt was with the Detroit Pistons, the last minutes of Detroit blow-outs were
termed “Nevitt Time.” Sports Illustrated nicknamed him “The Human Victory Cigar.” In
nine NBA seasons, Nevitt played for a total of 826 minutes, which equates to less than
18 complete NBA games.
(But Nevitt may be the ultimate example of being in the right place at the right time.
Besides being a member of the NC State 1983 NCAA championship team, Nevitt was
on the Los Angeles Lakers 1985 NBA championship roster.)
Meanwhile, Dorrance won a national championship this year on what he himself called
“world-class finishes” by Casey Nogueira. The NFL’s legendary Lou “The Toe” Groza
didn’t have a foot like Nogueira — much less two of them. Casey’s game-tying goal
came off her right foot, while her game-winning goal came off her left.
“On the greatest platform we have, which is the national championship final, she
(Nogueira) scored two of the most phenomenal goals I’ve ever seen,” said Dorrance
after the game. So what was Dorrance doing at the time? Watching, obviously.
Winning on two “phenomenal goals” doesn’t amount to much, if you ask me. Jim
Valvano won a national championship on an air ball. Now that’s coaching!
I would like to say that Dorrance’s greatest victory finally came in a game against a rival
and maybe now he will see the foolishness of being “without peer year after year.” (Not
that fans like me are about to put up with our beloved Tar Heels losing twice in a row to
another team again like we did to Notre Dame.)
But to tell the truth, Dorrance, you haven’t even done a good job creating a rivalry.
Sounds pretty rivalrous that UNC and Notre Dame are 4-4-2 all time in games other
than national championship finals, doesn’t it? But, after Sunday, UNC is 5-0 in
championship games. What kind of rivalry is that?
Just stick to being dominant, Anson. Face it; it’s the only thing you’re really good at.
Gary D. Gaddy always roots for the underdog to pull off an upset — except when his
team is favored.
A version of this article appeared in the December 11, 2008 editon of the Chapel Hill
Herald.
Copyright 2008 Gary D. Gaddy