Tag Archives: Philadelphia basketball

In the City of Basketball Love, a New Playbook for Mid-Major Survival

February 1, 2026 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

By Delgreco Wilson

In the heart of the a city where sports passion runs as deep as the Schuylkill River, a quiet but determined resurgence is taking shape on the basketball courts of Hawk Hill and Olney. The St. Joseph’s Hawks and La Salle Explorers, two of Philadelphia’s historic college programs, are being rebuilt from the ground up by new leadership, playing a gritty, unselfish brand of ball that honors their city’s blue-collar ethos. Yet, as I sat among the 2,700 or so spectators—a sea of mostly older faces like my own—at their recent Big 5 matchup, a profound disconnect was palpable. Just 24 hours earlier and a few miles south, the new 3-on-3 Unrivaled women’s professional league had made history, drawing over 21,400 jubilant, youthful fans to South Philadelphia, setting an attendance record and electrifying the arena with a palpable, modern energy. The contrast was stark, revealing not a lack of love for basketball in Philadelphia, but a critical misalignment between its storied college programs and the city’s next generation of fans. For St. Joe’s and La Salle to truly rise again, their revival must extend beyond the sidelines. It demands a fundamental reimagining of what success looks like in a radically changed sport and a revolutionary, digitally-native marketing strategy to reclaim their place in the City of Basketball Love.

Steve Donahue, St. Joseph’s Head Coach

The New Reality: Recalibrating Success in a Transformed Landscape

The first step in this renaissance is an honest, clear-eyed assessment of the modern college basketball ecosystem, which has rendered the golden eras of these programs nearly impossible to replicate. Under coaches like Phil Martelli, who led St. Joe’s to A10 championships and memorable NCAA Tournament runs in 2014 and 2016, the expectation was clear: compete for conference titles and dance in March. Today, that template is obsolete. The Atlantic 10 conference, once a reliable multi-bid league, is now, at best, a two-bid conference and more often a one-bid league. The financial chasm between high-major conferences and the rest has widened into a canyon, accelerated by name, image, and likeness (NIL) policies and the transfer portal, which constantly threaten to siphon a mid-major’s best talent to richer programs.

Darris Nichols, La Salle Head Coach

Therefore, the reasonable expectation for St. Joseph’s and La Salle is no longer “regular and consistent NCAA appearances.” It is sustainable competitiveness. It is the gritty identity being forged by first-year coaches Steve Donahue and Darris Nichols—teams that play hard, defend, and represent the city’s toughness every night. Success should be measured by winning records in a tough conference, contention in the A10 tournament, and the development of players who become pillars of the program for more than a single season. The goal is to build programs that are perennial tough outs, occasionally catching lightning in a bottle for a tournament run, rather than factories for NBA talent like Jameer Nelson or Lionel Simmons. This is not a concession to mediocrity; it is a strategic adaptation to a harsh new reality.

The Marketing Mandate: From Nostalgia to Digital Native Engagement

While the on-court product adjusts, the off-court outreach must undergo a revolution. The demographic at the recent Big 5 game—predominantly older, male, and white—is not a sustainable audience. It is the echo of a past glory. To survive and thrive, these programs must aggressively court the diverse, youthful, and digitally-immersed fans who packed the arena for Unrivaled.

Khaafiq Myers, St. Joseph’s Point Guard

This requires abandoning a reliance on traditional sports pages and radio spots for a hyper-local, social media-infused marketing strategy. Philadelphia’s young hoops fans live on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube, and they engage with personalities, authenticity, and interactive experiences. The city is teeming with influencers who have built passionate followings around Philadelphia sports. Imagine La Salle’s Darris Nichols doing a film breakdown crossover with a macro-influencer like @thephillysportsguy (129.6K followers), or St. Joe’s players collaborating on a skill challenge with a Philly-based influencer like @8eyemedia, whose tight-knit community of 96.6K followers represents exactly the engaged, youthful audience these programs need.

The blueprint for this exists within the city’s own professional ranks. During the COVID-19 pandemic, the Philadelphia 76ers’ youth marketing team brilliantly pivoted to digital platforms, leveraging the HomeCourt A.I. app to create virtual camps and challenges. They didn’t just stream content; they created interactive, gamified experiences. They hosted an “Al Horford Challenge” and later an “Allen Iverson Runs Practice” campaign, where fans could replicate drills and win shout-outs from legends. The result was staggering engagement: 1.25 million dribbles and 29,000 shots recorded by participating kids in just a few months.

Why can’t St. Joe’s and La Salle do the same? Imagine a “Hawk Hill Handles Challenge” judged by former star Langston Galloway, or a “La Salle Lockdown Drill” promoted through local micro-influencers. These programs should partner with the very tech companies and app developers that the Sixers used to “meet kids where they are”. As Mike Goings, the Sixers’ Director of Alumni & Youth Marketing, stated, this digital shift allowed them to “engage just as many kids” as in-person events and offered sponsors deeper, more meaningful impressions. For mid-majors with limited budgets, this is not a frivolous expense; it is a cost-effective necessity to build their brand and cultivate future donors and season-ticket holders.

Derek Simpson, St. Joseph’s Senior Guard

The Path Forward: Embracing a Holistic Revival

The resurgence of St. Joseph’s and La Salle will be defined by a dual commitment: competitive realism on the court and marketing innovation off it. Coaches Donahue and Nichols are laying the foundational groundwork with effort and identity. Now, the athletic departments and university administrations must match that energy with visionary outreach.

They must see the 21,000 fans at the Unrivaled event not as a threat, but as proof of concept. Philadelphia is a basketball city—a fact underscored by the 10 million viewers who tuned into the 2025 NCAA championship game and the major programs that regularly draw average home crowds of over 20,000. The passion is here; it simply needs to be channeled. The goal should be to make the Big 5 cool again—not as a museum piece, but as a living, breathing, and digitally-connected rivalry that celebrates city pride.

This means hosting doubleheaders with the vibrant women’s programs at these schools. It means transforming game days into community festivals with live music, local food trucks, and fan zones that mirror the energy of a block party. It means empowering student creators to tell their team’s story on social media. It means recognizing that in today’s landscape, building a compelling program is as much about cultural relevance as it is about win-loss records.

The history of Philadelphia basketball, written by legends from Gola to Nelson, is not a burden for St. Joseph’s and La Salle to bear, but a legacy to build upon in new ways. By marrying gritty, intelligent coaching with fearless, modern engagement, these programs can do more than just swing upward. They can reconnect with the soul of their city and ensure that the next generation is in the stands, not as occasional visitors, but as the lifeblood of a renewed tradition. The foundation is being poured. The time for a true renaissance is now.

College Basketball (other than Nova) in the Greater Philadelphia Region is ASS!

January 1, 2026 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA, PA – The Greater Philadelphia Region, throughout much of the last century, has been at the epicenter of college basketball. Very few cities can match the collegiate hoops legacy Philadelphia. For decades, the sport’s soul here was not found in one dynasty, but in the fierce, neighborhood blood feud known as the Big Five. The Palestra floor bore witness to the strategic genius of Penn’s Chuck Daly, the dynasty of Princeton’s Pete Carril, Jack Ramsay’s Hawks, John Chaney’s legendary zone defense, the explosive talent of Temple’s Guy Rodgers and Mark Macon, and the championship grit of Rollie Massimino’s Villanova Wildcats. It was a collective identity, a round-robin of pride where any team could be king on any given night.

Today, that identity is on life support. A glance at the current NCAA Evaluation Tool (NET) rankings—the modern metric for tournament worth—paints a picture of systemic collapse. Villanova sits at a respectable No. 25 with an 11-2 record, a beacon in a sea of distress signals. Behind them, the landscape is a ruin: Temple at 169, Penn at 215, St. Joseph’s at 242, La Salle at 269, with the others (Delaware, Delaware State and Rider) languishing near or at the very bottom of Division I. For three consecutive seasons, not a single one of these ten local programs has earned an NCAA Tournament bid. The data is unambiguous: Greater Philadelphia college basketball, save for one shining exception, has become noncompetitive. To borrow the blunt lexicon of a younger generation, the teams are, frankly, “ASS.”

How did a cradle of the sport become a cautionary tale? The demise is not an accident of poor seasons, but the result of a perfect and ongoing storm—a confluence of revolutionary NCAA rule changes and a failure of local leadership to adapt, leaving proud programs on the verge of being relegated to the dustbin of history.

The Great Disruption: NIL and the Portal Reshape the Game

The tectonic plates of college athletics have shifted, and Philadelphia’s midsize basketball schools have fallen into the crevasse. The dual emergence of name, image and likeness (NIL) compensation and the unrestricted transfer portal has fundamentally altered the competitive ecosystem. These changes were intended to empower athletes, but in practice, they have created a free-agent market that overwhelmingly favors programs with the deepest pockets and the most exposure.

This new era is tailor-made for football-dominated high-major conferences—the SEC, Big Ten and Big 12. Their athletic departments boast television revenues in the hundreds of millions, which fund massive, collectivized NIL war chests. A standout guard at La Salle or Drexel is no longer just a local hero; he is a tangible asset who can, and often does, portal directly to a power conference school for a life-changing financial offer. The result is a brutal new hierarchy: Philadelphia’s historic programs now risk becoming de facto feeder systems, the equivalent of Triple-A or Double-A farm teams developing talent for the sport’s major leagues.

The Villanova Exception: A Lesson in Ruthless Adaptation

Amid this chaos, Villanova’s continued relevance is not a happy accident; it is a case study in shrewd, unsentimental adaptation. Recognizing that the old formula was broken, the university made a difficult but necessary decision to part ways with Kyle Neptune. In his place, they hired Kevin Willard, a coach with a proven record of program-building and, crucially, deep, well-established relationships in the high school and grassroots basketball circles that now serve as the lifeblood of recruiting in the NIL/portal era.

Villanova’s success underscores the two non-negotiable requirements for survival today: a charismatic coach with profound connections and a university administration willing to marshal serious financial resources to compete for prospects. Villanova has both. It can leverage its Big East pedigree, its national brand, and presumably, a robust NIL apparatus to not only retain its own talent but to selectively pluck the best from the transfer portal. The other local schools, competing in conferences with smaller profiles and budgets, are fighting this battle with one hand tied behind their backs.

A Crisis of Leadership and Vision

While structural forces are immense, they are exacerbated by a local failure to innovate. For years, programs like Temple, St. Joseph’s, and Penn have cycled through coaching hires that have failed to ignite a spark or connect with the modern recruit. In an age where a player’s personal brand and financial future are paramount, a coach must be more than a tactician; he must be a persuasive advocate, a connector, and a visionary who can sell a compelling path to relevance.

The inability to identify and empower such figures has left these programs adrift. Their games, once must-see events that packed the Palestra, now lack the star power and competitive urgency to capture the city’s imagination. The shared cultural touchstone of the Big Five rivalry feels increasingly nostalgic, a celebration of what was, rather than a vibrant showcase of what is.

Is There a Path Back?

The outlook is undeniably bleak, but not necessarily hopeless. The path to resuscitation, however, is narrow and demanding. It begins with a radical commitment from university presidents and boards. They must first acknowledge they are no longer competing in the old collegiate model but in a professionalized marketplace. This means:

  1. Investing in a Proven, Connected Coach: The coaching search cannot be a cost-cutting exercise. It must target a dynamic leader with a tangible plan for navigating NIL and the portal.
  2. Building a Sustainable NIL Collective: Alumni and boosters must be organized to create competitive, if not elite, NIL opportunities. This is not optional; it is the price of admission for retaining a core roster.
  3. Embracing a New Identity: Without Power Conference money, these schools must become brilliant developers of overlooked talent and strategic users of the portal, finding players who fit a specific, hard-nosed system that can upset more talented teams.

The alternative is a continued slide into irrelevance. Philadelphia is too great a basketball city to accept being a one-team town. The ghosts of the Palestra deserve better. But saving this rich heritage will require more than nostalgia; it will require the very money, ruthlessness, and vision that these institutions have, thus far, been unwilling to muster. The final buzzer on an era hasn’t sounded yet, but the shot clock is winding down.

The Main Line’s New Architect: Kevin Willard Is Rebuilding Villanova’s Blue Blood Status

December 30, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA — In the cloistered world of college basketball, the term “blue blood” is more than a compliment. It is a patent of nobility, earned not by a single triumph but by a sustained reign. It signifies a dynasty with championships, constant national relevance and a gravitational pull that shapes the sport’s ecosystem.

For nearly two decades under Jay Wright, the Villanova Wildcats did not just earn an invitation to that elite fraternity; they commandeered a seat at the head table. Wright transformed a proud program with a Cinderella past into a contemporary superpower, aligning its orbit with titans like Duke, Kansas and North Carolina. But the unforgiving test of a blue blood is not achievement under a singular visionary. It is institutional permanence.

The three seasons since Wright’s abrupt retirement in April 2022 have served as that crucible. And the evidence is stark. Without its foundational architect, Villanova has experienced a swift and decisive regression, revealing that its blue-blood stature was a magnificent, coach-dependent edifice, not yet embedded in the program’s bedrock. The Wildcats, for now, have relinquished their hard-won place among the sport’s true aristocracy.

The task of restoration now falls to Kevin Willard, a proven program-builder tasked with a dual mandate: to win immediately in the hyper-competitive Big East and to forge a sustainable culture for the chaotic new age of college athletics. His early returns — a 10-2 start in his first season — are promising. But his true test is whether he can architect a new, resilient version of the Villanova brotherhood.

The Architectural Miracle and Its Swift Demise

Jay Wright’s 21-year tenure was an exercise in systematic elevation. His record — 520 wins, two national championships, four Final Fours — provides the statistical backbone. Yet his genius was in building a modern dynasty that projected power consistently and nationally, the essential hallmark of a blue blood. From 2014 through 2022, Villanova was a constant atop the sport. The 2022 Final Four crystallized this arrival: Villanova joined Duke, North Carolina and Kansas in New Orleans, and the collective logos sparked a mainstream debate about its blue-blood status.

Yet, analysts distinguish between “traditional blue bloods” — whose success spans multiple coaching regimes — and “new bloods.” Villanova’s modern empire was overwhelmingly concentrated in the Wright era. The departure of such a transformative figure is the ultimate stress test.

The tenure of Kyle Neptune, Wright’s chosen successor, provided a clear, and negative, verdict. The decline was measurable across every key metric: Villanova failed to win an NCAA tournament game in the post-Wright era and missed the tournament entirely for three consecutive seasons. Its stranglehold on the Big East vanished. The formidable recruiting pipeline Wright built slowed to a trickle. In March 2025, after a 19-14 season, Neptune was fired.

The simultaneous rise of Big East rival UConn underscores Villanova’s fall. After a brief transition following their own legendary coach, UConn won a National Championship with Kevin Ollie at the helm and UConn won two more national titles under Dan Hurley. This multigenerational, multi-coach success is the definitive argument for blue-blood status. Villanova, in the same period, went from sharing a Final Four stage with blue bloods to watching its conference rival cement the very status it let slip.

The Willard Blueprint: Proven Success in a New Era

Into this void stepped Kevin Willard. Hired in March 2025, he arrived with a mandate for immediate and lasting restoration. Villanova’s leadership was unequivocal about why he was their choice.

“Coach Willard demonstrated that he has the vision and experience to guide Villanova Basketball in the changing world of college athletics,” said Villanova University President Rev. Peter M. Donohue.

This new world is defined by the transfer portal and, critically, the landmark House v. NCAA settlement, which legalized direct revenue sharing between universities and student-athletes. Willard’s record suggests he is built for this challenge.

His résumé is a blueprint for building competitive programs against elite competition. At Seton Hall, he inherited a struggling program and, through meticulous building, transformed it into a Big East power. He departed as the second-winningest coach in school history with a conference tournament title and a regular-season crown. He then proved his model worked outside the Big East, leading Maryland to a 27-win season and a Sweet 16 appearance in 2025.

With a career winning percentage of .579 across nearly 600 games at the Division I level, Willard is a proven commodity. His early work at Villanova has been impressive: the Wildcats sprinted to a 10-2 start in his first season, showing renewed defensive grit and offensive balance.

Table: Kevin Willard’s Head Coaching Record Before Villanova

Rebuilding the Brotherhood in the Age of Free Agency

Today’s elite coach must be more than a tactician; he must be a chief executive, a cultural steward and a relationship-builder in an environment of empowered free agency. Willard’s philosophy appears tailored for this reality.

At his introductory press conference, he pledged to embrace the existing culture while adapting it, stating, “Villanova Basketball has a deep tradition of excellence and a culture that is second to none in college basketball”. His approach to roster construction balances the immediate need for talent with long-term cultural stability.

“We want to focus on high school kids and develop them,” Willard has emphasized, a nod to the “Villanova Way” of building through player development. This is evident in his first roster, which blends promising high school recruits like top-100 guard Acaden Lewis with strategic transfers from his former programs.

This human-centric approach is Willard’s hallmark. His career is marked by stories of deep, individualized mentorship. Two of his players hold the record for games played at their respective schools and serve as perfect bookends to his philosophy. Michael Nzei, a forward from Nigeria who played for Willard at Seton Hall, was the epitome of the scholar-athlete. Academically brilliant, he was named the Big East Scholar-Athlete of the Year in 2019. While Nzei spoke openly of professional basketball dreams, Willard saw the fuller picture. In a private moment, the coach expressed a knowing confidence that Nzei’s destiny was not on the court but on Wall Street. Willard’s role was not to dissuade him from his athletic goals, but to provide the platform and support for him to excel in both arenas, understanding that true coaching means preparing a player for the 40 years after basketball, not just the four years within it.

Donta Scott’s journey was different. A talented forward from the Philadelphia Public League who played for Willard at Maryland, Scott arrived with significant academic challenges. As he detailed in his book “Wired Differently”, Scott he was a student who learned differently, with gaps and unmet needs. For Scott, the path to success required intense, personalized academic intervention and support. Willard and his staff provided exactly that, creating a structure that allowed Scott to thrive academically and athletically. The result was not only a successful collegiate basketball career but the ultimate prize: a bachelor’s degree from the University of Maryland.

At Seton Hall, he guided Michael Nzei from Nigeria to become the Big East Scholar-Athlete of the Year, seeing in him a future beyond the court. At Maryland, he provided intensive academic support for Philadelphia native Donta Scott, helping him earn his degree. In an era where players can transfer at will, this ability to forge genuine trust ranks among a coach’s most critical skills. In a transaction-focused, transfer portal/NIL era, Willard is committed to helping players attain and maintain a levels of academic performance and vocational aspirations that are commensurate with their intellectual ability and personal ambition. 

Villanova’s Structural Advantages: A Foundation for Return

While its blue-blood status may have dimmed, Villanova under Willard operates from a position of significant institutional strength. The program’s potential resurgence is built on four key pillars:

Table: Villanova’s Competitive Advantages in the New Era

Eric Roedl, Villanova’s Vice President and Director of Athletics, has outlined an aggressive strategy to leverage these assets. “We’re going to be proactive and bold with how we try to position our programs to be successful,” Roedl stated, emphasizing the opportunity to focus resources on basketball.

The Path Forward

The chants in the stands at the Finneran Pavilion have regained a note of optimistic fervor. The early success of Willard’s first season is a necessary first step, but it is only a step. The true measure of his project will not be this season’s win total, but whether he can reignite the self-sustaining engine that defines the sport’s elite.

For any other Big 5 program, an NCAA tournament bid might be a celebration. For Villanova University, it is a non-negotiable baseline—the bare minimum required to uphold a decades-long contract with excellence. The standard on the Main Line is not merely to participate, but to contend for national titles, a reality cemented by championships in 1985, 2016, and 2018. In the modern landscape, where the Big East reliably secures four to five bids, Villanova’s brand, resources, and history demand it be a perennial lock, not a hopeful bubble team. To miss the tournament is not a minor setback; it is an institutional failure, a stark deviation from the very identity of a blue blood program that operates in a basketball-centric conference and commands national respect. The expectation isn’t arrogance; it is the logical conclusion of the program it built.

Within that framework, the tournament itself is merely the entry fee to the arena where true judgment begins. A Sweet 16 appearance is acceptable; an Elite Eight run is good. The Final Four is outstanding. And cutting down the nets is the ultimate, achievable goal. This is the clear and established hierarchy at Villanova, a program whose modern golden age under Jay Wright proved that sustained elite status, not occasional flashes, is the mandate. To lower the bar now, to treat a tournament bid as an aspirational goal, would be to surrender the program’s hard-won stature. In the ruthless calculus of college basketball’s upper echelon, making the field is the price of admission. For Villanova, anything less is an invoice left tragically unpaid.

Willard can get it done. He must prove he can consistently recruit at a blue-blood level, not just in the transfer portal but with the high-school prospects who become program legends. He must navigate the new financial landscape, ensuring Villanova’s NIL apparatus is robust enough to retain homegrown stars. And he must, above all, reforge the brotherhood — that intangible culture of collective sacrifice and trust — in an era that incentivizes individualism.

Jay Wright’s Villanova was a masterpiece. Kevin Willard’s task is not to create a replica, but to design a new, equally formidable structure on the same foundational principles, one capable of withstanding the storms of modern college athletics. The throne sits waiting. Willard is now the architect charged with building a kingdom that can endure long after its king has departed.

Beyond Neptune and Lange: How Two Coaching Tenures Revealed College Basketball’s New Reality

December 27, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA, PA – In the cathedral of Philadelphia college basketball, where the Palestra’s rafters hold the echoes of a thousand city series battles, a stark new reality has settled in. For the first time in nearly five decades, a three-year drought has gripped the Big 5: no team from this proud consortium—Villanova, Saint Joseph’s, Temple, La Salle, or Penn—has heard its name called on NCAA Tournament Selection Sunday. This unprecedented lapse is not merely a coincidence of down cycles but a symptom of a seismic shift in the sport’s landscape, one that has exposed traditional power structures and made coaching hires a perilous high-wire act.

The concurrent tenures of Kyle Neptune at Villanova and Billy Lange at Saint Joseph’s serve as the perfect case studies. Both were tasked with succeeding legends—the graceful, self-determined exit of Jay Wright at Villanova and the summary, contentious dismissal of Phil Martelli at Saint Joseph’s. Both struggled to meet the outsized expectations of their fanbases. Yet, their parallel struggles reveal less about individual failure and more about how the tectonic plates of NIL and the transfer portal have fundamentally reshaped the ground beneath every program. The margin for error has vanished, and Philadelphia’s current coaching crossroads—Villanova’s safe bet on Kevin Willard and Saint Joseph’s gamble on Steve Donahue—show a sport scrambling to adapt.

Steve Donahue, St. Joseph’s Head Coach

A Stark New Reality for the Big 5

The Philadelphia Big 5 is not just a basketball competition; it is the soul of the city’s sports culture. Founded in 1955, it forged rivalries so intense that, as former Saint Joseph’s athletic director Don Di Julia noted, the games were “part of the fabric of life in Philadelphia”. For generations, its round-robin battles at the Palestra guaranteed that at least one Philly school would be nationally relevant. From 1977 until 2022, that streak held firm.

The recent three-year tournament drought is therefore historic and alarming. It signals a disruption of the natural order. The causes are multifaceted—conference realignment, cyclical talent dips—but they are compounded exponentially by the new ecosystem of player movement. In the “old Big 5,” as former player Steve Bilsky recalled, “players would never think of transferring from one Big 5 school to another”. Today, that unwritten code is obsolete. La Salle’s 2024-25 A10 Rookie of the Year, Deuce Jones was just scrubbed from the St. Joseph’s roster, after playing just 10 games, a few days ago. Villanova’s 2024-25 roster, for instance, featured graduate guard Jhamir Brickus from La Salle and sophomore guard Tyler Perkins from Penn, direct intracity transfers that would have been unthinkable a generation ago. The local talent pool, once fiercely guarded, is now a free-agent market.

Kevin Willard, Villanova Head Coach

The Lange Era at Saint Joseph’s: A Process Interrupted

Billy Lange arrived at Hawk Hill in March 2019 with a fascinating resume: a Patriot League Coach of the Year at Navy, a key assistant under Jay Wright during Villanova’s rise, and six years in player development with the NBA’s Philadelphia 76ers. He was an analytics focused and process-oriented coach hired to rebuild a program that had struggled in the final years of Phil Martelli’s legendary 24-year run. 

Lange, unfortunately, was never able to approach the heights Martelli’s Hawks reached. Lange’s six-season record—81-104 overall and 38-64 in the Atlantic 10—was undeniably disappointing. However, his tenure coincided precisely with the explosion of the transfer portal and NIL. His developmental philosophy, honed in the NBA, was suddenly at odds with a college game that had grown impatient. As one industry expert notes, the portal has caused coaches to shift from projecting a high school recruit’s potential to seeking “players who are ready now”. For a program like Saint Joseph’s, without the deep NIL war chests of football-powered schools, this meant competing for proven transfers was a brutal, often losing battle.

Lange’s best season, 2023-24, ended with a 21-14 record and an NIT berth—clear progress. But in the new calculus, incremental building is a luxury few coaches are afforded. The pressure to win immediately, fueled by the ease with which players can depart, created a vortex from which he couldn’t escape. His return to the NBA as a New York Knicks assistant in 2025 felt like a natural conclusion for a coach whose skillset may be better suited to a professional landscape free of recruiting’s chaos.

The Neptune Era at Villanova: Inheriting a Colossus

Kyle Neptune’s challenge was of a different magnitude. He was not rebuilding; he was tasked with maintaining a dynasty. Handpicked by Jay Wright following a single 16-16 season at Fordham, Neptune was the anointed keeper of the culture. His first two seasons were a study in stability but also stagnation: a combined 35-33 record and two NIT appearances, a stark fall from the Final Four standard.

The narrative around Neptune solidified quickly: a promising assistant unable to translate the master’s lessons. But this narrative ignores the hurricane into which he stepped. As The Athletic reported, Neptune’s roster underwent near-total annual overhaul due to the portal. In one offseason alone, nine players departed via graduation, the NBA draft, or transfer. He was forced to reconstruct a cohesive team from scratch each year, attempting to instill Villanova’s famed system in a revolving door of newcomers.

A mid-season turnaround in his third year, highlighted by a win over UConn, offered a glimpse of what was possible when portal acquisitions like Brickus and Wooga Poplar meshed with veterans like Eric Dixon. Yet, the very fact that Villanova’s success was now dependent on integrating multiple key transfers from other programs—including city rivals—underscores how profoundly the sport has changed. The “Villanova Way,” built on four-year player development, is an artifact in need of a radical update.

The Choking Grip of the New Ecosystem

The struggles of Lange and Neptune are not isolated failures but evidence of systemic pressures.

  • The Portal’s Preference for Proven Commodities: The transfer portal has fundamentally altered roster construction. Coaches now operate with a professional sports general manager’s mindset, where a known college commodity is almost always valued over a high school prospect’s potential. This “plug-and-play” mentality, as described by experts, shrinks opportunities for developmental high school players and forces coaches to constantly re-recruit their own rosters.
  • The NIL and Revenue-Share Squeeze: The financial landscape is in chaotic flux. With the House v. NCAA settlement introducing direct revenue sharing, programs are now building rosters against a de facto salary cap. As one Big Ten coach starkly put it, the money available now is “about 40-50 percent less than what it has been”. For programs without massive booster collectives, the competition for top-tier portal talent is increasingly unwinnable. This uncertainty has brought the recruitment of the high school class of 2026 to a near-standstill.
  • The Vanishing Margin for Error: In this environment, a single missed evaluation or a bad season can trigger a death spiral. Players leave, creating more holes to fill with an ever-more expensive and competitive portal pool. Coaching tenures are shortened, and patience is extinct. The pressure, as one analysis notes, is so intense that “a recruiting miss isn’t harmless. It’s a mark against you… Stack too many misses, and you don’t just lose games. You lose your job”.

Divergent Paths Forward: The Safe Bet and the Gamble

In response, the two programs have chosen starkly different paths, illuminating their assessment of the new risks.

Villanova’s selection of Kevin Willard is a masterclass in risk mitigation. Willard possesses the exact profile needed for this moment: a proven program-builder at Seton Hall who consistently navigated the Big East and, more recently, the football-dominated Big Ten at Maryland. He is a known quantity with a track record of winning in high-major conferences. For a Villanova program that can still attract talent based on brand and resources, Willard represents stability and a high floor—a safe and smart selection to stop the bleeding and return to the NCAA Tournament.

Saint Joseph’s promotion of Steve Donahue, by contrast, is a fascinating and perilous gamble. Donahue is considered a superb tactician with a history of success at Cornell. However, his recent tenure at Penn saw the Quakers finish 7th in the 8-team Ivy League in his last two seasons. The leap from the Ivy League to the Atlantic 10 is vast, not just in athletic competition but in the cultural and academic recruitment landscape. Can a coach who struggled in a low-major, high-academic environment adapt to the mercenary, NIL-driven world of the A-10? Saint Joseph’s is betting that his coaching acumen and familiarity with Philadelphia can overcome these hurdles, but the margin for error is zero.

The Deuce Jones Effect: A Cautionary Tale for the Transfer Portal Era

December 24, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , , 3 Comments

PHILADELPHIA, PA – The transaction is instantaneous. An athlete enters a name into a database, a program wires funds from a collective, and a scholarship offer is extended. On spreadsheets in athletic departments across America, this constitutes a successful roster rebuild. Yet in gymnasiums and locker rooms, where the alchemy of teamwork transforms individuals into contenders, the equation is proving far more complex. The abrupt departure of Deuce Jones from the Saint Joseph’s University basketball team after just ten games is not merely a local sports story in Philadelphia; it is a stark, human-sized case study in the collision between a new, transactional model of college athletics and the timeless, relational art of coaching.

Long gone are the days when a coach’s authority was rooted in a simple, autocratic decree. Today’s coach is part strategist, part psychologist, part contract negotiator, and part cultural architect, navigating a landscape where loyalty is provisional and rosters are perpetually in flux. The transfer portal and name, image, and likeness (NIL) deals have created a booming marketplace for talent, but as the Jones saga reveals, a failure to account for the human element—the delicate fit between a player’s spirit and a coach’s philosophy—can render the most promising on-paper union a costly and swift failure.

The New Calculus of Roster Building

The modern college coach operates in an environment of relentless pressure and perpetual motion. The transfer portal is no longer a niche tool but the “fundamental part of college basketball’s ecosystem,” a bustling marketplace where over 4,000 athletes sought new homes in 2025 alone—a 418% increase from 2020. Coaches, their own job security often tenuous, are forced into a high-stakes, reactive game. When a star player departs, the response must be immediate and decisive, often leading to hasty decisions focused on plugging statistical holes rather than cultivating cohesive units

This environment encourages a perilous oversight: the subordination of cultural and emotional fit to the allure of proven production. Programs now strategically allocate NIL budgets, with some high-major schools dedicating 75% of their resources to just five starting players, treating the rest of the roster like “minimum contracts”. In this calculus, a player’s worth is distilled to points, rebounds, and efficiency ratings. The deeper questions—How does this young man respond to criticism? What coaching voice unlocks his best self? Does his competitive fire align with or threaten the existing team culture?—are too often relegated to afterthoughts, if they are considered at all.

The Deuce Jones Conundrum: A Misfit Foretold

The trajectory of Deuce Jones illustrates both the potential of masterful coaching and the consequences of its absence. As a mercurial 15 year old high school talent, he thrived under Coach Mark Bass at Trenton Catholic, who mastered the “delicate balance of discipline and understanding.” Bass redirected Jones’s boundless confidence and energy without breaking his spirit, nearly willing the team to a state championship. The pattern repeated at La Salle under the disciplined, principled guidance of Fran Dunphy, where Jones’s fierce competitiveness earned him Atlantic 10 Rookie of the Year honors. These coaches commanded his respect not with unchecked authority, but with a demanding, invested mentorship he could trust.

His transfer to Saint Joseph’s in April 2025 was a classic portal-era move. The Hawks, reeling from the departure of their entire starting backcourt, needed a savior. Jones, seeking a larger platform, seemed the perfect statistical remedy. Yet, from the outset, the interpersonal foundations were shaky. The coach who recruited him, Billy Lange—a player-friendly coach known for granting offensive freedom—abruptly left for a New York Knicks front office job just weeks before the season. In a rushed decision, the university promoted Steve Donahue, a coach fresh from a nine-year tenure at Penn where his Ivy League teams had a notably different demographic and cultural composition.

The mismatch was profound. Donahue, an analytical tactician, was now tasked with harnessing the same volatile, emotive talent that required such careful handling in high school. While initial returns were strong—Jones was the team’s leading scorer and hit a dramatic game-winner against Temple—the underlying disconnect proved fatal. Reports point to a behind-the-scenes “financial dispute” as the catalyst for the split, but the financial friction was likely a symptom, not the cause. The true failure was a systemic one: a rushed hire, a transactional recruitment, and a profound disconnect in coaching style and relational approach left no reservoir of trust to draw from when conflict arose. The partnership, built on sand, washed away in a matter of weeks.

The Vanishing Art of Developmental Coaching

The Jones episode underscores a broader erosion: the devaluation of the developmental coach in a win-now economy. The portal incentivizes programs to shop for ready-made products, bypassing the arduous, rewarding work of molding raw talent over years. As one athlete poignantly observed in a first-person account, locker rooms now feel transient, with the “idea of having a future… no longer discussed because no one knows who will be staying”.

This shift carries a deep irony. Billy Lange left Saint Joseph’s for the NBA precisely because of his proven skill in player development, having transformed Rasheer Fleming from a role player into an NBA draft pick. Yet, in the college game he exited, that very skill set is becoming obsolete. Why invest years in development when you can purchase a veteran’s production annually? The tragedy is that the greatest coaching artistry—exemplified by legends like John Chaney or John Thompson—was never just about X’s and O’s; it was about the transformative, life-altering mentorship that occurred in the space between a player’s arrival and his departure four years later. The portal, in its current form, systematically shrinks that space.

A Path Forward: Recalibrating for the Human Element

For the health of athletes, coaches, and the games themselves, a recalibration is urgently needed. The solutions are not about dismantling the portal or NIL, which provide necessary freedom and compensation, but about introducing wisdom into a system currently governed by haste and financial leverage.

  • For Programs and Collectives: Recruitment must undergo a paradigm shift. The evaluation process should mandate deep diligence into a player’s motivational drivers and coaching needs, with the same rigor applied to psychological fit as to athletic analytics. NIL agreements, where possible, could include structured incentives tied to tenure and academic progress, subtly rewarding commitment.
  • For Coaches: The role must expand. Today’s coach must be an expert communicator and cultural engineer, capable of building trust at hyperspeed with a roster of strangers. As research confirms, the coach’s reputation and relational ability are now “playing a larger role” than ever in attracting and retaining talent
  • For Families and Advisors: The cautionary tale of Deuce Jones is a vital lesson. The largest NIL offer or the highest-profile program is a hollow victory if the environment cannot nurture the whole athlete. Prospective players must ask not just “What can you pay me?” but “How will you coach me? Who will I become here?”

The final, silent image of Deuce Jones’s Saint Joseph’s career—a social media post of two cryptic emojis following his departure—speaks volumes. It is the digital-age signature of a broken relationship, a connection that never truly formed. In the end, the most advanced analytics, the most generous NIL packages, and the most impressive highlight reels are powerless without the ancient, indispensable ingredient of sport: a meaningful, trusting bond between player and coach. The portal era has changed everything about college athletics except that fundamental truth. The programs that remember it, and build accordingly, will be the ones that truly thrive.

The Forgotten Prospect: How NCAA’s New Era Is Closing Doors on Talented High School Players Like Bryce Hillman

December 19, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

CAMDEN, N.J. — In a different era, Bryce Hillman would be a sure fire NCAA Division 1 recruit. The Camden Eastside senior guard is everything low to mid-major college basketball programs traditionally sought: a 6-foot-2, 185-pound leader with deep shooting range, a powerful build, and a floor-general mentality that keeps his team in the game until the final buzzer. Yesterday, at Camden Catholic and Down 7, he hit 2 deep 3-pointers with less than 22 seconds left in the game. Off the court, his profile is equally impressive—a straight-A student, a member of the National Honor Society, and academically eligible for the Ivy and Patriot League programs.

Yet, as the 2026 recruiting cycle inches forward, Hillman’s phone isn’t ringing with Division I offers. Instead, he represents a growing, silent casualty of a revolution in college sports. His stalled recruitment is not a reflection of his talent but a direct consequence of the seismic paradigm shift driven by the transfer portal and Name, Image, and Likeness (NIL) compensation. These changes have professionalized college athletics at a breathtaking pace, creating a system where proven commodities are valued over potential, and where high school prospects like Hillman are increasingly an afterthought.

The New Calculus of Roster Building

College basketball has entered its “Wild West” era, characterized by unprecedented roster turnover and a relentless focus on immediate results. The transfer portal, which saw Division I entries nearly double from 2019 to 2024, has become the primary talent marketplace. For coaches under pressure to win now, the calculus is simple: Why invest a precious scholarship and years of development in an 18-year-old when you can recruit a 22-year-old from the portal who has already proven he can score against college competition?

The data supports this cold logic. A 2024 study found that 65% of Division I men’s basketball players who enter the transfer portal move down a competitive level or out of the sport entirely, suggesting it is often a tool for finding playing time at a lower level rather than a guaranteed path up. Yet, for coaches, the portal offers a known quantity. As one high-major coach bluntly stated about the new financial reality, “No one’s going to pay a freshman $1.5 million anymore. You can’t have a third of your [revenue-share] cap going to a guy who’s never played in college”.

This professionalized approach has led to what one analyst calls “one-year partnerships”. Programs provide NIL money and a platform; in return, players must fill a specific, immediate role. Long-term development plans, once the bedrock of college coaching, are becoming “a thing of the past”. This environment inherently disadvantages high school seniors, like Bryce Hillman, no matter how gifted.

The Squeeze on the 2026 Class

Hillman’s class is caught in a perfect storm. The convergence of the transfer portal’s dominance and the new financial uncertainties of the “rev-share era” has brought high-major recruiting for 2026 prospects to a near standstill. Following the landmark House v. NCAA settlement, schools are navigating how to directly share revenue with athletes while also regulating booster-backed NIL collectives. This has created massive uncertainty about what financial packages can even be offered.

“Coaches are telling us, ‘We’re not going to the portal if you commit to us.’” — Deron Rippey Sr., father of a five-star 2026 recruit. 

As a result, conversations between coaches and top 2026 recruits have barely addressed specific numbers. “Most coaches say the rules are changing in the next two weeks, the next month, we’re trying to figure out what we can do,” said the father of one elite prospect. Another recruit noted, “Some coaches have no clue, really. A lot of their answers… is, ‘I don’t know.’ It’s funny hearing that”.

This financial fog exacerbates the existing bias toward the portal. Coaches, unsure of their future budgets, are hesitant to commit resources to high school players. They know that next spring, they will need to save a significant portion of their funds to compete in the transfer market, where bidding for proven players has reached astonishing levels—with some individual transfers commanding multi-million dollar packages. For a player like Hillman, who isn’t a consensus five-star recruit, the path to a high-major or even a mid-major offer has become exceedingly narrow.

The Cascading Effect and the Lost Art of Development

The impact of this shift creates a cascading effect throughout the ecosystem:

  • High-Major Programs seek players from other high-major programs or stars who have dominated at the mid-major level.
  • Mid-Major Programs, in turn, chase former top-100 high school recruits who are seeking more playing time after sitting on a power-conference bench.
  • Low-Major Programs target frustrated transfers from the higher levels.

This leaves talented, unproven high school prospects in a state of limbo. They are now frequently advised that their route to a Division I opportunity may require a detour—a post-graduate prep school year or proving themselves at the Division II or NAIA level first. This mirrors the transient “Migration Generation” of players who hopscotch between schools in high school and college, a trend that risks academic progress and stable development.

The professionalization of the sport is also changing how programs are run. Forward-thinking schools like the University of North Carolina are building mini-NBA front offices, hiring professionals to handle scouting, NIL negotiations, and roster management—tasks that were once the domain of coaches. In this new structure, the focus of coaching staffs can return to X’s and O’s and player development. The tragic irony is that in this more “professional” system, there are fewer and fewer raw, young players deemed worthy of that development investment.

A Path Forward in a Changed Game

So, what is a player like Bryce Hillman to do? The old blueprint is obsolete. Success now requires a new playbook that acknowledges the reality of the business:

  1. Embrace Alternative Pathways: A post-graduate year at a national prep school or a starring role at a top Division II program can provide the tape and proof of concept that the portal-driven market demands.
  2. Seek Programs Committed to Development: Some coaches, particularly at mid-majors with less portal buying power, still prioritize building through high school recruits. Identifying these programs is crucial.
  3. Leverage Academic Excellence: For a student like Hillman, targeting high-academic schools in the Ivy, Patriot, or similar leagues can be a strategic advantage, as these programs often have different roster-building philosophies and cannot use large NIL offers as their primary tool.
  4. Exercise Patience: The portal creates late-summer roster chaos. Scholarships can materialize in August as teams finalize their rosters, rewarding those who remain ready and visible.

Bryce Hillman’s story is not unique. It is the new normal for thousands of talented high school basketball players. The NCAA’s transformation, born from a long-overdue move toward athlete compensation and freedom, has had profound unintended consequences. It has created a quasi-professional free agency that values immediate production over nurtured potential. In the rush to embrace this new era, we must not forget the Bryce Hillmans of the world—the talented, well-rounded students and athletes who just a few years ago would have been the foundation of a college program, but who now stand on the outside, waiting for a coach still willing to believe in, and invest in, the promise of an 18-year-old.

The system has gained financial freedom for players at the top, but it has quietly closed a door of NCAA Division 1 opportunity for many at the bottom. Whether that door can be nudged back open may define the soul of college basketball in the decades to come.

The Most Credible Messenger: Antwann Postell’s Legacy and a City’s Loss

December 14, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , , 3 Comments

PHILADELPHIA, PA – The death of Antwann Postell, announced this morning in Philadelphia, will not make national headlines. It will not trend on national social media, nor will it prompt statements from elected officials. Yet in the neighborhoods of West Philadelphia, where the constant hum of sirens and the echo of bouncing basketballs create a dissonant soundtrack to daily life, his absence rings with a profound and devastating silence. Postell, a mentor, coach, and a quiet force of redemption, was 35. His sudden passing leaves a void not easily measured in column inches, but in the lives of young men for whom he was a lifeline, a mirror, and a map.

Postell’s story was not one of unblemished virtue, but of hard-won transformation. He emerged over the past decade not as a saint, but as a stalwart—a quintessential “credible messenger” in a city that desperately needs them. He never hid nor minimized his past, including time served in a state penitentiary. In a world where at-risk youth have learned to expertly detect condescension and false promises from outsiders, this history was not a liability; it was the foundation of his authority. He was not a visitor from a safer, more privileged world coming to preach. He was a guide who knew the treacherous terrain because he had walked it, stumbled in it, and found a way out.

The Currency of Credibility

In the ecology of urban mentorship, theoretical advice is cheap. The currency that matters is credibility, earned through shared experience. For the young men on the cracked asphalt courts of West Philly, Postell possessed an enormous amount of this “street credibility.” His warnings about the swift, dead-end finality of violence or the soul-crushing grind of incarceration carried weight because they were not abstract lessons. They were etched in memory, written in the language of personal consequence. When he spoke of lost time and missed opportunities, he spoke from a place of profound, lived loss. This bypassed the reflexive skepticism of a teenager who has heard too many hollow sermons. It built a bridge of trust where other well-intentioned programs often find only a moat of distrust.

Postell understood, at a deep and intellectual level, that he was part of a critical socialization process. He knew the basketball court was more than a place to play a game; it was a powerful classroom. Under the rusting rims and fading lines, he taught the norms and values that sports can instill—teamwork over selfishness, discipline over impulse, resilience over surrender. He used the game to foster communication, leadership, and a sense of identity that wasn’t tied to a corner or a crew, but to a team. For young men often stripped of dignity by systemic neglect, he used the sport to rebuild self-esteem and forge a sense of belonging. It was a two-way process: he taught the game, and through their shared interpretation of its struggles and triumphs, they learned about life.

Heir to a Sacred Legacy

In this sacred work, Postell was one of the most prominent modern heirs to a legendary Philadelphia lineage. He walked in the footsteps of giants like Sonny Hill, Claude Gross, Tee Shields, Sam Rines, Sr., and James Flint—men who understood that coaching in this city was never just about developing players, but about building character and saving lives. They were the architects of an alternative infrastructure of care in neighborhoods where such structures are scarce. Postell took up that mantle, not in a lavish gym, but on the same streets where those legends started, tending to the same deep-seated needs with the same fierce, paternal love. He was a living link in a chain of mentorship that has held entire communities together for generations.

His death, therefore, is not merely the loss of one man. It is a rupture in that vital chain. It leaves a monumental void in the intricate and fragile support network that exists just beneath the official surface of the city. Who now will be there for the 3 a.m. phone call from a kid in crisis? Who will have the earned right to look a young man in the eye and say, “I’ve been where you are, and this path leads nowhere”? The institutional memory of how to navigate from despair to hope—memory held in one man’s heart and stories—is now suddenly, tragically, gone.

The Flicker of Hope He Leaves Behind

There is, perhaps, a fragile hope to be found in the nature of Postell’s work. His teachings were not kept in a manual but embedded in the hearts of those he coached. The real testament to his life will be if the young men he mentored—those who felt the grip of his hand on their shoulder, heard his blunt wisdom in a timeout huddle—can now step forward to keep his teachings alive. The true success of a credible messenger is not in creating dependents, but in creating a new generation of messengers. The legacy of Sonny Hill lives on in every coach who teaches more than a pick-and-roll. So too must Postell’s spirit live on in the next young man who chooses to put down a weapon and pick up a clipboard, who uses his own hard past to forge a safer future for the kid behind him.

Antwann Postell’s life was a testament to the radical power of second chances and the transformative potential of authentic, earned connection. His death is a stark reminder of how precious and precarious such forces are in our cities. We mourn not just a coach, but a cornerstone. And we are left with a pressing question for Philadelphia and every community wrestling with violence and lost youth: How do we identify, support, and protect the next Antwann Postell before his voice, too, is silenced? The game on the West Philly courts will go on. But the guiding voice from the sidelines, the one that spoke with the hard-earned authority of a life redeemed, is now heartbreakingly still.

The Next Crown Prince of Harrisburg Hardwood: Why Shakur Starling is Central Pennsylvania’s Must-See Prospect

December 7, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA, PA – In the constellation of American basketball talent, certain places have become fixed stars, producing a rhythm and a archetype of player as reliable as the changing seasons. New York City guards carry a certain swagger, Philadelphia guards a specific mental and physical toughness. And in recent years, a new locus has emerged, a crucible for backcourt talent that demands the attention of college basketball’s power brokers: Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

Shakur Starling, Central Dauphin junior guard

This is not a fluke, but a tradition being built in real time. It’s a lineage defined by Chance Westry and Malachi Palmer—elite guards who honed their games here before taking the well-trod path to national academies and, subsequently, the bright lights of the Big 10, ACC and Big East. Their departures created a vacuum, a question of who would next assume the throne. The answer is already here, and he is not following the same script. His name is Shakur Starling, a junior guard at Central Dauphin High School, and he is poised to become the most compelling recruitment story in the region, a prospect whose substance may ultimately outshine even his considerable flash.

The Harrisburg Guard: A New Archetype

To be a Harrisburg guard in 2025 means something. It carries a weight and an expectation. It means you are battle-tested in gyms where space is a luxury and physicality a given. It implies a defensive tenacity, a chip-on-the-shoulder grit forged in the crucible of Mid-Penn Conference play. Westry and Palmer established this brand—long, athletic, versatile perimeter players who could dictate the terms of a game on both ends.

Shakur Starling is the latest model, inheriting and evolving this prototype. He has assumed the mantle as “the guy” in Harrisburg, not through self-proclamation, but through a quantum leap in performance over the past year. His game is a testament to the area’s burgeoning reputation, but his story, rooted deeply in family and faith, suggests a different kind of journey—one that will unfold not at a distant basketball factory, but right here at home.

Shyheim Starling (l), freshman guard and Shakur Starling (r)

A Foundation of Character, A Profile of Excellence

Before the first crossover dribble is admired, one must understand the foundation. Starling is, by every account, poised and unfailingly respectful—a young man who looks adults in the eye and understands the weight of “please” and “thank you.” This is not incidental. It is the direct product of an exceptional upbringing by his parents, who are raising Shakur and his three brothers with a clear emphasis on faith, academics, and accountability.

This bedrock character is his first and most persuasive selling point. He is an outstanding student from a family deeply grounded in their faith. In an era of transfer portals and fleeting commitments, a prospect like Starling represents stability. It is why he already holds an offer from John Griffin at Bucknell University, a Patriot League institution that prizes scholars as much as scorers. One can confidently project that nearly every Ivy and Patriot League program will soon enter the fray, seeing in Starling the ideal marriage of academic readiness and athletic promise.

The Game Travels: From Central Dauphin to the EYBL

Do not, however, mistake this strong academic and moral profile for a limited game. Starling’s talent transcends zip codes. He has already proven his mettle on the Nike EYBL circuit, the most competitive grassroots basketball arena in the country, playing for Baltimore-based Team Melo. This is critical. It demonstrates his skills are not merely a product of local competition; they translate against national, elite-level peers.

Starling knocks down a 3 pointer in tough loss to Bonner

On this stage, his athleticism announces itself without subtlety. He possesses a quick-twitch explosiveness and open-floor speed that are innate—you cannot teach a player to get off the ground as he does. In transition, he is a runaway train, capable of finishing through contact and with the acrobatic body control to convert seemingly impossible circus shots at the rim. Defensively, his combination of that athleticism, a strong motor, and high effort makes him a nightmare. He has the tools to be a lockdown, multi-position defender, the kind of “two-way potential” that jumps off the screen to college coaches.

The Blueprint for a High-Major Future

From a purely basketball perspective, Starling is just beginning to scratch the surface. At Central Dauphin, he often operates as an off-guard in half-court sets, using his athleticism to slash and attack. His ability to go through high school bigs is already notable. Yet, the roadmap to becoming a high-major standout is clear.

First, the ceiling of his offensive game will be determined by the consistency and range of his three-point shot. He is solid now, but to transition from an athletic slasher to an elite “3-and-D” wing—the most coveted commodity in modern basketball—requires making that significant leap. Second, to become a primary ball-handling playmaker at the next level, his decision-making must continue to evolve, learning patience and picking his moments within a system.

The raw materials, however, are undeniable. As one evaluator noted, “The athletic prowess is there as far as just speed, explosiveness… When he gets to college, when you have more space, he is going to be a problem for four years.”

Starling matched up against Bonner-Prendie star guard Korey Francis

A Different Path, A Loyal Legacy

This is where Shakur Starling’s story diverges from his predecessors. His deep commitments to family, church, school, and teammates make a late transfer to a national academy highly unlikely. Unlike Westry and Palmer, we are likely to see this recruitment play out in real time, in the gym at Central Dauphin. This loyalty is rare, and it adds another layer of allure for college coaches seeking a program pillar, not just a transient talent.

The time for passive interest is over. Coaches from the CAA, Atlantic 10, and, yes, the Big East, should be making their pilgrimages to Harrisburg now. They will see a top-tier mid-Atlantic prospect whose best basketball is emphatically ahead of him. They will see a scholar-athlete whose character is as polished as his crossover. And they will see the next chapter in the story of the Harrisburg guard—a chapter defined not by departure, but by legacy; not just by athleticism, but by an unwavering foundation.

Shakur Starling is more than a prospect; he is a statement. He proves that in today’s nomadic basketball landscape, a crown prince can choose to build his kingdom at home, and in doing so, become an even more compelling figure for the programs wise enough to see the complete picture.

The Case for Korey Francis: The Mid-Atlantic Region’s Most Underrated Court General

December 7, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA, PA – In the era of basketball as personal branding, where elite high school prospects migrate to national academies and highlight reels are currency, a counter-narrative is quietly building in the Philadelphia suburbs. His name is Korey Francis, a junior guard at Monsignor Bonner & Archbishop Prendergast Catholic High School. To the casual observer scanning national rankings, he may not yet register. But to watch him play—to truly understand the fabric of his game—is to witness one of the finest, most complete guard prospects in the nation. He is not a product of the assembly line; he is a testament to the enduring value of loyalty, intelligence, and old-school grit.

Korey Francis, Bonner-Prendie junior guard

A Player Without a Position, A Team Without a Ceiling

At Bonner-Prendie, Francis is a basketball paradox listed at guard. Under the shrewd guidance of Coach Billy Cassidy, Francis morphs from game to game, even possession to possession, into whatever his Friars need to win. With a roster featuring smaller, quicker perimeter players, Cassidy deploys Francis as a point guard, shooting guard, small forward, and even a burly power forward. He initiates the offense, posts up smaller defenders, switches onto bigs defensively, and crashes the glass with the tenacity of a forward. This positional fluidity isn’t a gimmick; it’s a master class in basketball utility. Yet, when the clock winds down and the outcome hangs in the balance, the ball inevitably finds its way to Francis’s hands. He is the calm in the chaos, the team’s true north.

The Anatomy of a Floor General

Projecting Francis to the next level clarifies his ultimate destiny: he is a cerebral, classic point guard. His strengths read like a manifesto for purists who believe the game is won between the ears.

His court vision and playmaking are elite. He pushes the ball with purpose, not panic, and sees passing lanes before they materialize. He is a quarterback in high-tops, running the offense with a veteran’s poise, his primary objective being to make his teammates more effective. His physicality is his signature. At a sturdy 6’3″, he leverages his strength like an NFL fullback, using a deft handle and a decisive first step to get a shoulder into defenders, creating space to barrel into the lane. Once there, he is a maestro of the “penetrate-and-pitch” game, finishing through contact or dishing with perfect timing.

Furthermore, he is an exceptional rebounder for a guard, a skill that instantly triggers transition opportunities. Defensively, his strength and intelligence allow him to guard multiple positions, effectively switching onto both bigger and smaller opponents. This is not a flashy scorer hunting shots; this is a conductor orchestrating a victory.

The Measurable Questions and the Intangible Answers

The scouting report will rightly note areas for growth: his three-point shot is inconsistent, and he lacks the blinding, elite athleticism commonly associated with top prospects in leagues like the SEC or Big Ten. He is a worker, not a wow-er.

But to focus solely on these metrics is to miss the forest for the trees. Francis is only a junior, with ample time to refine his jumper—a project far more achievable than instilling the innate feel for the game he already possesses. More importantly, his perceived “lack of elite quickness” is mitigated by a high basketball IQ that allows him to anticipate and dictate, rather than simply react. He wins with positioning, strength, and savvy, assets that translate to any level of competition. He is, in essence, D1-ready in the categories that are hardest to teach: leadership, physicality, and clutch decision-making. His “Iron Man” durability and unflappable demeanor under pressure are the bedrock of his value.

The Loyalty and Leadership of a Throwback

In an age of transactional basketball, Korey Francis’s story is profoundly refreshing. While peers of his stature have left Philadelphia for the national academy circuit, Francis has remained fiercely loyal to Coach Cassidy and Bonner-Prendie. This commitment speaks to a character often absent from the recruiting discourse. He is not just building a team; he is building a community.

Off the court, Francis embodies the ideal of the scholar-athlete. A straight-A student and the elected president of his class, he demonstrates that elite competitiveness and academic excellence are not mutually exclusive but mutually reinforcing. This discipline and intelligence are palpably evident in his play. He processes the game like an honor student, solving defensive schemes in real time.

The Verdict: A Prospect Worth Betting On

The modern basketball landscape is littered with athletic marvels whose games lack soul and structure. Korey Francis is the antithesis. He is a throwback to a time when the point guard was an extension of the coach, tasked with elevating everyone around him.

Yes, he must continue to extend his shooting range. Yes, he will face athletes at the next level who can match his strength. But to bet against Korey Francis is to bet against intelligence, against leadership, against an unwavering will to win. He is not just a mid-to-high major Division I point guard prospect; he is the prototype of a player who wins championships because he makes the complex simple and his teammates better.

In the noisy, hype-driven world of high school basketball, the steady, commanding drumbeat of Korey Francis’s game is a sound more and more college coaches are beginning to hear. They are listening to the future of a program—a leader who doesn’t just play the game, but truly understands it.

The Lost Art of the Philly Guard: Why Micah Waters Embodies What College Basketball is Forgetting

December 7, 2025 By in Uncategorized Tags: , , , , , , Leave a comment

PHILADELPHIA, PA – In the cramped, sweat-stained gyms of Philadelphia, where the echoes of a hundred years of basketball history still reverberate, a certain archetype has been forged. It is not always the flashiest, nor the one chasing the highest point totals. It is the guard who understands that defense is a language, unselfishness is a creed, and winning is the only statistic that truly endures. From the legendary playgrounds to the hallowed Big 5 floors, this player has been a constant: gritty, intelligent, and indispensable to any winning effort.

Micah Waters, Friends Select senior guard

Today, that mold is perfectly embodied by Friends Select School senior Micah Waters. And in a just basketball world—the one that existed even a decade ago—his phone would be ringing with Division 1 scholarship offers. But we are not in that world. We are in the era of the transfer portal and NIL, a paradigm shift that has left exemplary high school prospects like Waters in a dangerous limbo. In the rush to recruit experienced college veterans or chase viral highlights, college coaches are overlooking the foundational players who build programs. For any low- to mid-major program seeking not just a transient talent, but a culture-defining pillar, a trip to Center City Philadelphia to evaluate Micah Waters is not just advisable—it is urgent.

More Than a Prospect: A Philadelphia Story

To understand Waters’ game is to understand his roots. He is the son of the late Micah Waters, Sr., a long-time Philadelphia Police officer who himself played for the famed West Philadelphia Speedboys before suiting up for Cabrini University. This is not incidental biography; it is the bedrock of his identity on the court. He plays with the discipline, responsibility, and communal pride of a public servant’s son. He plays, as those classic Philly guards do, not for stat sheets, but for the final score. His intelligence and high character are repeatedly noted by coaches and teachers, the marks of a young man who would represent a university with integrity.

Ten years ago, a player with this pedigree, this makeup, and his tangible skills would have been a coveted get for a slew of programs. Today, he waits. He is a casualty of a new calculus that undervalues the steady, winning player in favor of the transfer with immediate, if sometimes fleeting, experience. It is a system that risks discarding diamonds before they are ever polished.

A Tenacious Blueprint: Defense as a Destructive Force

The foremost argument for Waters’ scholarship-worthiness begins on the defensive end. In an offensive-centric age, he is a throwback lockdown artist. Scouts label him an elite, tenacious man-to-man defender, routinely tasked with shadowing an opponent’s top perimeter scorer. With long arms and anticipatory instincts, he is a disruptor in passing lanes. But his defense is more than steals; it’s a form of mental attrition. He is adaptable, capable of guarding multiple positions, and plays with a physical grit that sets a tone for his entire team. In the playoff crucible or on the Under Armour Circuit with Philly Pride, Waters has proven his defense travels and intensifies against high-level competition. This skill alone—the ability to neutralize another team’s best guard—is a standalone, roster-worthy talent.

Purcell Coles, Friends Select Head Coach

The Modern Complementary Offensive Skill Set

Offensively, Waters is not a heliocentric, ball-dominant creator. That is not his role, nor is it the role of the classic Philly guard he emulates. His value lies in high-efficiency, high-IQ play that perfectly complements primary scorers. He is a streaky but potent three-point shooter, particularly deadly as a spot-up weapon in the offensive system of coach Purcell Coles, where his understanding of spacing and timing shines. He is a strong finisher in transition, leveraging his defensive efforts into easy baskets. His high basketball IQ allows him to move within complex offensive schemes—he is noted to have a strong grasp of systems—ensuring he is always a productive, rather than a disruptive, offensive piece.

The Grit and The Growth: A Leader’s Profile

Perhaps the most intangible, yet critical, asset Waters possesses is his demeanor. He is described as a vocal leader, playing with a palpable toughness and a winner’s mentality. This is the glue that holds teams together through conference play and tournament pressure. Yes, that intensity can occasionally boil over, leading to unnecessary fouls—a noted area for growth. But coaches consistently prefer to temper a fiery competitor than to ignite a passive one. His occasional struggle to create his own shot off the dribble is a fair critique, defining his ceiling as a primary option. But that misses the point. His ceiling as a program-changing role player—a defensive stopper, a clutch shooter, a culture-setter—is immensely high.

A Perfect Fit for the Right Program

Micah Waters’ ideal role is clear: a gritty, defensive-minded wing who spaces the floor, excels in transition, and provides veteran-like leadership from day one. He is the ultimate “winner” archetype who makes players around him better through effort, intelligence, and selflessness. He would thrive in fast-paced, perimeter-oriented offenses that value defensive accountability. For a coach looking to build a sustainable program, not just rent a one-year scorer, Waters represents the kind of foundational player around which successful teams are constructed.

Micah Waters after hearing he has fouled out against Penn Charter

The current model of college athletics, with its frenetic portal churn, is a reality. But it shouldn’t be an excuse for myopia. There is immense value in identifying, recruiting, and developing a young man of character, toughness, and specific, winning skills. Micah Waters isn’t just a collection of strengths and weaknesses on a scout’s sheet. He is the continuation of a Philadelphia basketball legacy, a coach’s son in spirit, and precisely the kind of dependable talent that becomes the heart and soul of a successful college program.

The gym doors at Friends Select are open. The proof of a hundred years of basketball wisdom is on the court, waiting to be seen. It would be a profound shame—and a missed opportunity—if the new era of college basketball meant overlooking a young man who so perfectly embodies the timeless virtues of the old one.