Practice in the
decrepit barn of a gym has been going at a frenzied pace—adhesive man-to-man
defense and bodies bumping violently under the backboards. Directing the fierce
drills is a 56-year-old coach with graying hair and a small spare tire bulging
under his sweat suit. He chides, he screams, he patiently explains techniques
to the young men he calls "lads." Finally it is time for a rite of
manhood, the coach's Take-the-Charge Drill. He steps into the key and stands
there with his arms at his sides. One of his huskier lads dribbles full blast
straight at him. Oof! Down he goes and back he slides four feet. The players
explode in cheers, surround him, pull him to his feet, clap him on the back,
practically smother him with affection. Then they take turns steamrolling each
Presley Jr. is in his eighth season as basketball coach at Menlo College, a
small, private JC in swanky Atherton, Calif., a few miles north of Stanford
University on El Camino Real. It has high entrance requirements and, unlike the
104 other California junior colleges, is expensive. Tuition and fees come to
$3,810 a year, and there are no athletic scholarships.
Menlo's record in
the four years before Presley arrived was 17-75. Presley's record in 7� seasons
is 187-36. His teams have won one state Division II junior college championship
and finished second three times. They've won five Coast Conference titles and
ended up second twice. And in all likelihood they've won the national
championship every year in taking charges. Points, assists and rebounds are not
ignored at Menlo, but "charges taken" is the glory statistic. A few
seasons ago a mild-mannered Chinese-American, Phillip Ching, drew 109 charging
fouls in 25 games.
all over the country speaking at clinics, mostly on motivation and man-to-man
defense, and one of his favorite bits of theater is to invite someone in the
audience to come up and flatten him with a charge. Unfortunately, he once
pulled this stunt shortly after undergoing minor surgery to remove a skin
cancer from his chest. The charge broke his stitches, and he finished the talk
with blood all over his shirt.
Presley is fond
of conducting private clinics while driving, sometimes using the car to
demonstrate how to cut off an opponent at the baseline. He occasionally becomes
so wrapped up in his discourse that he tries to enter a freeway via an off
ramp. Nevada-Las Vegas Coach Jerry Tarkanian once spent a few days with Presley
and his long-suffering wife Gloria. When it came time for Tarkanian to depart,
Presley, talking basketball all the way, tried to drive him to the San Jose
Airport, but ended up nine miles away in Milpitas. Tarkanian missed his plane.
Perhaps because he is always busy pondering new ways to draw the charge,
Presley gets lost even when he rides alone. "He can't find his way
anywhere," says a friend. "He phones me and says, 'Damn it, kid, where
am I? I'm out in a cornfield in Hayward.' He calls everybody kid. I say, 'How
the hell did you get there?' 'Oh, I don't know. You must've given me the wrong
The University of
Portland's Jack Avina, formerly a Bay Area high school coach, recalls going
home with Presley one day. "Bud couldn't find his house key," says
Avina, "so he went around back where there were a number of trash barrels
with a plank over them. He climbed up on the plank, opened a window and crawled
in. He kept that plank there and his bed next to the window because he had to
get in that way so often."
are common wherever coaches gather in California, and none seems to be
apocryphal. There's the one about how he so hates zone defenses that an
ex-student assistant, five years into his own coaching career, refused to use a
zone for fear Presley would find out. And the one about how, on a road trip,
Presley sat up in his sleep at 3 a.m., screamed, "Defense, damn it!
Defense!" and fell back on the pillow, leaving his startled assistant
coach-roommate awake the rest of the night.
But tributes come
just as thick and fast as accounts of his eccentricities:
?"He is a man
with incredible enthusiasm, a man who has never lost his appetite for more
knowledge about basketball. He is a great teacher."—Portland Trail Blazer
executive Stu Inman.
?"There is no
better coach anywhere in the country."—Penn State's head man, Dick