Reality check, please: conventional theories about which specific characteristics a team needs to succeed in the NCAA Tournament often are—at best—partial truths

Sporting News, The, March 15, 2004 by Mike DeCourcy

All a team really needs to win an NCAA championship is Pittsburgh's defense, Texas' depth, Oklahoma State's rich experience, Duke's coaching wisdom, Saint Joseph's guard play, Gonzaga's long-range shooting, Stanford's demonstrated superiority over conference competition and Mississippi State's surging momentum. That should be plenty.

If you find a team that has all of that, you're probably searching through a college basketball history book, reading about Indiana in 1976 or UCLA in 1978. They don't make teams like that anymore.

The modern game is ruled by teams that are flawed. The flaws may be negligible, indistinct, but they are there. As fewer players with the talent of Patrick Ewing and David Thompson enter or linger in college basketball, the formula for winning the national championship or reaching the Final Four has become more elusive. But as the sports media have proliferated, the conjecture regarding the necessary ingredients has multiplied.

Some of the theories are valid. Some are useful, if slightly misguided. Some are balderdash. And all are subject to being contradicted by the excellence of a single transcendent player. For instance, Carmelo Anthony. "You can be John Wooden or a coaching neophyte," ESPN analyst Fran Fraschilla says, "but if you have great talent, that explodes most of these theories."

To gauge the value of eight hypotheses, the SPORTING NEWS developed the Conventional Wisdom Index, or CWI. (Yes, just what college sport needs, another acronym.) On the CWI, a rating of 1 is complete poppycock, and a 10 is incontrovertible. It's a simple system, and opponents' opponents' winning percentage is no factor at all.

Theory No. 1

Defense wins championships

CWI: 4

You probably need good cornerbacks and a strong pass rush to reach the Super Bowl, and a great neutral-zone trap might win you the Stanley Cup, but teams have to score to advance deeply into the NCAA Tournament. The past four NCAA champions shot at least 47.4 percent from the field for the season. The last three averaged at least 79.6 points. Nine of the most recent 10 national champions topped 80 points in at least one of their Final Four games.

How many defensive heroes have there been in recent tournaments? Indiana's Dane Fife for a series of shutdowns in 2002 and Syracuse's Hakim Warrick for one stunning blocked shot last April, but who else?

That doesn't mean defense is of no consequence. A team primarily needs to get key stops and direct opponents away from their preferred options. Connecticut in 1999 and Michigan State in 2000 were extraordinary defensive teams that imposed their will on opponents--the Huskies with their speed, the Spartans with their muscle.

But teams that defend better than they attack go home early--as No. 1 seed Cincinnati did in the second round after holding opponents to 37.4 percent shooting in 2001-02. That season, two of the top five scoring teams, Kansas and Maryland, reached the Final Four. Gonzaga, which traditionally has been better making baskets than preventing them, has advanced in four of the last five tournaments.

"When you are scoring better, you feel better" says Michigan State coach Tom Izzo, whose NCAA Tournament record is 19-5. "You don't feel better about checking; I don't care who you are. I think you do need defense to win championships, but offense makes the modern-day kid feel better. And if he feels better, he can play better defense."

Theory No. 2

Depth is a must

CWI: 2

Preseason magazines and polls breathlessly hype teams that have more players than they can use. Before the 2002-03 season, forecasters contended Arizona's supersized bench would carry the Wildcats to the championship. By the end of the year, two key reserves, guard Will Bynum and forward Dennis Larimore, had left the program because they did not want to be key reserves.

Although significant depth can help any team survive such obstacles as injuries, suspensions and slumps during a 30-game season, it's of only occasional use in the NCAAs.

When Tyus Edney hurt his wrist late in the national semifinals, it helped to have Cameron Dollar take his place and help lead UCLA to the 1995 rifle. Such an injury so deep in the season rarely occurs, though. Usually when it does, as with Arizona's Loren Woods and Cincinnati's Kenyon Martin in 2000, it's so traumatic and disruptive that having effective replacements isn't enough.

This season, Duke is bringing power forward Shavlik Randolph and guard Sean Dockery off the bench and will go to big Nick Horvath for muscle minutes. That's about it, but it's probably enough. Syracuse got an average of 59.8 minutes and 19.5 points from its three reserves in two Final Four games last season. For Maryland the year before, it was 54 minutes and 16.5 points from three reserves.

In the later stages of the tournament, coaches trust fewer players to handle the pressure. They don t need their benches to keep top players from fatigue because television timeouts, already so plentiful, become longer so

CBS can sell more advertising.