John U. Bacon

Nik Stauskas grew up in Mississauga, Ontario – a Toronto suburb better known for its neighborhood hockey games than for a Lithuanian kid spending thousands of hours shooting on his parents’ backyard hoop.

This year, Stauskas was named Big Ten player of the year. It worked.

Glenn Robinson III took a completely different route to the NBA: His father is Glenn Robinson Jr., also known as “The Big Dog,” and was the first pick in the NBA draft twenty years ago. If Stauskas had to work to get attention, Robinson had to work to avoid it.

They became strong candidates to leave college early for the NBA draft, which is their right. This week, both decided to make that jump, and file for the draft this spring. Stauskas is projected to be a high first-round pick, and Robinson not too far behind.

Good for them. They’re both nice guys, hard workers, and serious students. If a violinist at Michigan was recruited by the London Symphony Orchestra, no one would begrudge her for jumping. I might have done it myself.

But I do object to the pundits and fans claiming if the NBA dangles millions of dollars in front of a college player, “he has no choice. He has to go.”

This bit of conventional wisdom is based on one gigantic assumption: that the pursuit of money eclipses all other considerations, combined.

The idea that a great player might decide to stay in school to improve their game, to enjoy the college experience, or to pursue his education are  considered silly, even immature responses, when they’re considered at all.

And if he does decide to stay in school – as a surprising number do, despite the pressure to leave – these same people will call him a fool. Why? Money.

The funny thing is, we have actual data – tons of it – that tell us what makes us happy. And study after study shows it’s not money. It’s family. It’s friends. It’s work we care about. And that’s about it.

But ignoring our own values invariably creates unhappiness. Ditto, greed.

The happiest people I know have lived the most meaningful lives, including dedicated schoolteachers, talented musicians and friends working for nonprofits that actually help others.

My dad, like just about everybody else who works at a university, turned down more money from the private sector to keep teaching, researching and treating his pediatric patients. My mom spent ten years teaching grade school, and decades later, she still hears from her students.

The late Chris Peterson, a psychology professor at Michigan who won the Golden Apple Award for teaching in 2010, studied happiness. He discovered the biggest factor in job satisfaction is not hours or prestige or pay, but one good friend. That’s it.

Perhaps that’s why every former Michigan athlete I know who played in the NBA, the NFL and the NHL says they liked playing for Michigan best.  That list includes Stanley Cup champions, Super Bowl winners, and millionaires.

Mike Kenn played for Michigan in the late ’70s, then played 17 years for the Atlanta Falcons, 251 straight starts. He told me, “I watch the Falcons play on Sundays, and I hope they win. But on Saturdays, I live and die with the Wolverines.”

Jim Mandich was the captain of Bo Schembechler’s first Michigan team in 1969, and an All-Pro tight end on the undefeated 1972 Miami Dolphins. He stayed in Miami, and did a lot of radio and TV for the team. When the Detroit News’s Angelique Chengalis asked him a few years ago, when he was facing terminal cancer, if he still had time to follow Michigan football, he said, “Are you kidding me?” Mandich said. “Of course I care about that stuff, to the point of irrationality. It will always be Michigan first, cancer second.” He didn’t even mention the Dolphins.

Yeah, this is what the NCAA wants us to believe, which always makes me nervous. My contempt for that organization is growing – and I didn’t think that was possible. But that doesn’t mean everything they say is always wrong.

So, for Nik and Glenn, do whatever is right for you, and good luck. You’ve worked hard and beaten incredible odds to create those options.

But don’t think for a second that just because someone offers you money to do something, you have no choice but to do it.

If you do, you’re not buying your freedom. You’re selling it.

About the writer: Ann Arbor resident John U. Bacon is the author of the national bestsellers “Fourth and Long: The Future of College Football,” “Bo’s Lasting Lessons” and “Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football.” You can follow him on Twitter (@Johnubacon), and at johnubacon.com.

The Chronicle relies in part on regular voluntary subscriptions to support our publication of columnists like John U. Bacon. Click this link for details: Subscribe to The Chronicle. And if you’re already supporting us, please encourage your friends, neighbors and colleagues to help support The Chronicle, too!

John U. Bacon

On Tuesday night, the Michigan men’s basketball team beat Illinois to earn its first outright Big Ten title in almost three decades. What’s more impressive is how they’ve done it.

Michigan’s famous Fab Five left the stage 20 years ago, and were replaced by Tom Izzo’s Michigan State teams a few years later. For more than a decade, the Spartans dominated the state.

Izzo’s teams have earned 16 straight NCAA invitations – and they’ll get another one next week – seven Big Ten titles, five Final Fours, and one national title, in 2000, and he’s done it the right way. His players graduate at roughly an 80% clip, higher than the student body at large. Along the way, Izzo took 18 of 21 against the Wolverines, who have had four different head coaches during his tenure.

But what a difference a few years make. Michigan basketball coach John Beilein has beaten the Spartans in six of their last eight meetings, and returned the long dormant Michigan program to its previous heights.

And by previous heights, I mean 1986, which is the last time Michigan won the Big Ten title outright. I was a senior that year – about the same age as the parents of Michigan’s current players.

This is just the latest of a lifetime of upsets for Beilein, starting with his coaching career itself. He was working in a sewer – literally – when his father’s face appeared in the light of the manhole above. He asked John if he wanted a job at the local high school, which was looking for a social studies teacher who could coach three sports. John didn’t think too long before he decided perhaps that was a better career path, and climbed out of the sewer.

At the next six stops before Michigan – which included one high school, one community college, two four-year colleges and three Division I universities before Michigan came calling – Beilein’s players were always smaller than their opponents, so he created a system that stressed movement, passing and outside shooting. In other words, skill and savvy over size.

Beilein’s unconventional approach worked at every stop, but he was never part of the fraternity of coaches. It wasn’t because they didn’t like him, but because they didn’t know him. While they were assisting legends like Bob Knight and Dean Smith, and getting to know their network of friends, Beilein skipped the assistant step altogether, leading smaller schools in the middle of nowhere on his way up. That was just one more reason why so many people doubted his unique system would work on the Big Ten’s big stage.

After Beilein’s third season in Ann Arbor, when his Wolverines couldn’t manage to win even half their games, a lot of folks concluded he wasn’t ready for prime time. Beilein didn’t listen, sticking to his system, but overhauling his staff.

Those were two big time, gutsy moves – and both worked. The next year, Beilein’s Wolverines won the Big Ten title. Last year, they got to the NCAA title game, and this week, they took another Big Ten title – the third straight banner they’ll be hanging in Beilein’s honor. Unlike a few Michigan banners from the ’90s, which were taken down due to NCAA sanctions, these will be up as long as the building.

Because Beilein’s system stresses brains over brawn, he can afford to pass up most of the five-star high school prospects other coaches salivate over, and take the players they don’t want. The list is long, and includes Zack Novak, Trey Burke, Caris Levert, and Nik Stauskas – smart, coachable kids who either graduate on time or go to the NBA. Then Beilein and his staff develop these overlooked players, turning them into Big Ten stars and, oftentimes, NBA regulars.

Beilein has also attracted the sons of NBA stars like Jon Horford, Tim Hardaway Jr. and Glen Robinson III. Their parents are rich, so their sons can’t be bought by unscrupulous coaches. They also know how slick other coaches can be, so they can’t be fooled, either. So when they pick John Beilein’s program to develop their sons as people and as players, that tells you something.

Beilein pulled off his latest surprise this season. In the off-season, Michigan lost two stars to the NBA, then first team pre-season All-American Mitch McGary had to bow out for back surgery in December. Most experts believed, without McGary, Michigan had no chance for another Big Ten title, and might even miss the NCAA tournament. Two months ago, I wrote: “Do not count them out.” But that’s a far cry from predicting a Big Ten banner. The team showed more guts than all of us watching them.

Even now, many naysayers believe Michigan won’t go far in the NCAA tournament. But do you really want to bet against Beilein…again? He has a history of proving the doubters wrong – a history that spans his entire life.

If John Beilein is not the Big Ten coach of the year, Michigan should demand a recount. Don’t be surprised if he wins the national award, too. It’s hard to imagine a more deserving recipient, on or off the court.

Not bad for a guy who started his coaching career by climbing out of a sewer.

About the writer: Ann Arbor resident John U. Bacon is the author of the national bestsellers “Fourth and Long: The Future of College Football,” “Bo’s Lasting Lessons” and “Three and Out: Rich Rodriguez and the Michigan Wolverines in the Crucible of College Football.” You can follow him on Twitter (@Johnubacon), and at johnubacon.com.

The Chronicle relies in part on regular voluntary subscriptions to support our publication of columnists like John U. Bacon. Click this link for details: Subscribe to The Chronicle. And if you’re already supporting us, please encourage your friends, neighbors and colleagues to help support The Chronicle, too!