|
Georgetown
|
6'10.31" |
|
North Carolina 1993 |
6'10.21" |
|
Stanford
|
6'10.15" |
|
Connecticut
|
6'10.04" |
|
Florida 2007 |
6'9.91" |
|
Florida 2006 |
6'9.74" |
|
Gonzaga
|
6'9.72" |
|
Duke 1992 |
6'9.67" |
|
UCLA 1995 |
6'9.61" |
|
Connecticut 2004 |
6'9.54" |
|
Arizona 1997 |
6'9.52" |
|
Michigan 1989 |
6'9.28" |
|
Maryland 2002 |
6'9.21" |
|
Duke 1991 |
6'9.20" |
|
Kentucky 1998 |
6'9.12" |
|
Kentucky 1996 |
6'9.10" |
|
Kansas 1988 |
6'9.09" |
|
Wisconsin
|
6'9.05" |
|
Syracuse 2003 |
6'8.90" |
|
North Carolina 2005 |
6'8.89" |
|
Notre Dame
|
6'8.84" |
|
Washington State
|
6'8.83" |
|
Michigan State
|
6'8.82" |
|
Arkansas 1994 |
6'8.81" |
|
Vanderbilt
|
6'8.73" |
|
Duke 2001 |
6'8.68" |
|
Michigan St. 2000 |
6'8.67" |
|
Kansas
|
6'8.67" |
|
Connecticut 1999 |
6'8.63" |
|
Purdue
|
6'8.56" |
|
UCLA
|
6'8.53" |
|
Texas
|
6'8.43" |
|
UNLV 1990 |
6'8.43" |
|
BYU
|
6'8.35" |
|
Tennessee
|
6'8.27" |
|
Louisville
|
6'8.19" |
|
Indiana
|
6'7.96" |
|
Davidson
|
6'7.95" |
|
Xavier
|
6'7.91" |
|
North Carolina
|
6'7.87" |
|
Memphis
|
6'7.78" |
|
Marquette
|
6'7.59" |
|
Duke
|
6'7.19" |
|
Drake
|
6'6.65" |
|
Butler
|
6'6.63" |
IT TAKES a fair
amount of nerve to look a college basketball coach in the eye, keep a straight
face and ask a question that's usually better suited for Cosmo than for the
pages of SI: Does size matter? But fear not, dear reader. No query is more
pertinent heading into this year's fun-house mirror of an NCAA tournament, in
which six genuine title contenders—Duke, Louisville, Memphis, North Carolina,
Tennessee and Xavier—have shorter frontcourts than any national champion of the
past 20 years. And while common sense may suggest otherwise (this is
basketball, after all), no question is likely to draw a more surprising range
of answers. ¶ "Size absolutely matters," says UCLA coach Ben Howland,
who might have been aiming for a three-peat if not for the once-in-a-generation
Florida team that beat the Bruins in the last two Final Fours. There's a reason
Howland calls his latest edition, the West region's No. 1 seed, "the best
team we've had over the last three seasons." After enduring two years of
bully treatment by the Gators' big men—the second- and third-tallest
championship front lines of the past two decades—UCLA finally has its own
transcendent titan, 6'10" freshman center Kevin Love. As Howland says,
"Having [Love] in there not only scoringwise but also reboundingwise was a
huge factor in our success in the regular season."
Even the shortest
title-winning frontcourt of the past two decades, UNLV's in 1990, had an
All-America post player in burly 6'6" forward Larry Johnson. But can a team
with almost no post presence win a national title? Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski
certainly thinks so, considering that the go-go Blue Devils' biggest player on
the floor is often 6'8", 220-pound freshman Kyle Singler. "If you have
a good big man, that helps a lot," says Coach K, "but I don't think you
need to have a great big man to win the whole thing." Perhaps, but the Blue
Devils' margin for error is as slim as Singler himself. "Can Duke win a
national championship with this team?" says UConn coach Jim Calhoun.
"They could, but I don't know if they can put six wins together, because
all they need [to lose] is one bad shooting game."
It's the height of
fashion to say that perimeter play is the key to success in the NCAAs. But
recent champions have also revived the fashion of height. After an eight-year
stretch from 1996 to 2003 in which the Most Outstanding Player of the Final
Four was a guard or a midsized swingman, three of the last four
MOPs—Connecticut's Emeka Okafor, North Carolina's Sean May and Florida's Joakim
Noah—have been big men. What's more, finding worthy guards for this year's
All-America teams was a far harder task than making a list of deserving post
players: UCLA's Love, North Carolina's 6'9" Tyler Hansbrough, Kansas
State's 6'10" Michael Beasley, Notre Dame's 6'8" Luke Harangody,
Stanford's 7-foot Brook Lopez, Louisville's 6'11" David Padgett and
Indiana's 6'9" D.J. White.
That
pituitary-powered procession doesn't even include three potentially
game-changing centers on title contenders (Georgetown's 7'2" Roy Hibbert,
UConn's 7'3" Hasheem Thabeet and Stanford's 7-foot Robin Lopez, Brook's
twin brother) or the four-headed post hydra of Kansas, the deepest reserve of
quality size in the land. "When you have four big guys, you can get to the
second half with nobody in foul trouble," says Jayhawks coach Bill Self.
"It's not devastating when one of our big guys gets two fouls in the first
four minutes."
Yet more than ever
the teams carrying a slingshot for Goliath aren't just double-digit seeds
gunning for classic March upsets; they're also high-seeded powerhouses that
have found innovative ways to mitigate their lack of stature. "When a team
doesn't have a big man, everybody looks at the teams that do and says they
automatically have an advantage, but I don't know if that's always the
case," says Butler coach Brad Stevens, whose seventh-seeded Bulldogs have
no player taller than 6'8". "Often there's an advantage on one end of
the court, but there may be a major disadvantage on the other."
How those relative
Lilliputians attempt to defy nature—and the conventional wisdom of
basketball—may well be the dominant story line of the next three weeks.
FROM A statistical
perspective, size does matter in college basketball—more so on defense than on
offense, and more so at center and power forward than at small forward and
guard. Ken Pomeroy, a stat guru for Basketball Prospectus, computed the average
height for all 341 Division I teams and found a weak correlation with offensive
efficiency (points scored per possession, adjusted for competition) and a
slightly stronger one with defensive efficiency (points allowed per
possession). But when he isolated what he called Effective Height—the height of
a team's center and power forward, i.e., the tallest 40% of a team's minutes
played—he found stronger correlations on offense and especially on defense,
most of all in blocked shots, field-goal-percentage defense and defensive
efficiency.
Pomeroy's
conclusions: Having tall guards isn't that important, but there's ample reason
for coaches to scour the world for exceptional big men—Thabeet is Tanzanian,
while 6'11" Vanderbilt center A.J. Ogilvy is Australian—or to invest time
in a project such as Hibbert, whom former Georgetown coach John Thompson Jr.
nicknamed the Big Stiff as a freshman before rechristening him Stiff No
More.
That's good news
for a few tall NCAA tournament teams: Georgetown, which has more frontcourt
height than even North Carolina's 1993 outfit, the tallest champ in the last 20
years (chart, left); Stanford, which is anchored by the Lopez twins; and UConn,
which has seen Thabeet add offensive skills to his already formidable
shot-blocking presence. Noting that Thabeet's scoring average has gone from 6.2
points last season to 10.4 this year, Calhoun says his center has become "a
nightmare to play against because [defenses] have to double-team him, and when
they give help, it opens up our perimeter players."
North Carolina
coach Roy Williams is one of the game's leading proponents of pounding the ball
inside; his 2005 champion Tar Heels scored more than half of their points that
season from the two power positions, the most of any NCAA titlist in the last
two decades (chart, left). Williams argues that skilled post men are better at
drawing fouls than are perimeter players—witness Hansbrough, who leads the
nation in free throw attempts (344)—and that size matters more during the NCAA
tournament because, he says, "it becomes more of a half-court game and
people take fewer chances. Plus, in the NCAA tournament that three-foot shot
doesn't have as much pressure on it as a 22-foot shot has."