One-two punch

Sporting News, The, Jan 17, 1994 by Michael Bradley

John Chaney has argued against Proposition 48, Proposal 42, and all their brothers, sisters and cousins since the rules became part of the NCAA landscape. He has done it angrily, eloquently and passionately, making friends, enemies and plenty of sense along the way.

His premise is a simple one: A test score can't judge whether a kid can do college work. Chaney speaks of lost opportunities. Of discrimination. Sometimes he is heard. Other times he is dismissed as a coach using rhetoric to improve his basketball team.

This season, Chaney's arguments are a little more compelling. If anyone refutes his position, Chaney strikes back with some irrefutable evidence.

Aaron McKie and Eddie Jones.

The two senior wing guards have propelled Temple University into the nation's Top 20 and have brought themselves to the threshold of NBA riches with outstanding Play. "Amongst seniors, they are two of the brightest stars in the sky," says Bullets General Manager John Nash. Few - if any - teams in the country can boast a more potent double-barreled punch.

The Jones, at 6 feet 6, slides, glides and bounds across the court; McKie, who is 6-5, bangs and bursts - all while playing 40 minutes a game. They are different weapons. They also are a different kind of student athlete. Each came to Temple branded a Proposition 48 case, unable to score 700 on the Scholastic Aptitude Test. Each incurred nearly $12,000 in debt to pay for his first year because an NCAA rule prohibited him from receiving scholarship money.

And each will graduate this spring, four years after a test judged him unable to handle college course work. Jones and McKie will leave a tremendous basketball legacy, to be sure, but the impact of their characters and wills to succeed will be even greater.

"When you are labeled a Prop. 48, everybody is going to count you out," Jones says. "Think about the statistics. Aaron and I wanted to show people that they were wrong. Coach Chaney said we had no choice. We had to prove ourselves and get out on time." "My degree (in social work) means a lot," McKie says. "Maybe it helps the next guy, who can say, |Aaron McKie was a Prop. 48, and he made it through college.' Maybe that guy does, too."

Coaches and scouts who are impressed with Jones and McKie's on-court exploits are equally overwhelmed by their personalities. "If every kid were like them, everybody would want to be a college basketball coach, and I probably wouldn't have a job," Kansas Coach Roy Williams says. McKie and Jones disregarded the odds and the naysayers and took care of business, working hard on their studies and their games to become what is an increasing rarity in NCAA basketball - top-flight players and college graduates.

If Jones and McKie produce in the NBA, Chaney will be happy. But when he hangs a picture of the two in his tiny office on Philadelphia's North Broad Street, it won't show them playing basketball. More than likely, it will be a shot taken on graduation day.

"When you punish someone for a crime they didn't commit, and they finally sit down and think about it, they feel cheated," Chaney says, his voice rising. "What has impressed me about Aaron and Eddie is that they have come out of a terrible situation and find themselves unscathed.

"I have to believe they are bitter, but because of their character, they are good people with good senses of values. Good students are expected to graduate on time, but Aaron and Eddie had a lot of reasons to say, |To hell with it. Why should we do good things?' They didn't, because they have good character."

John Chaney is fuming. Nothing new here. He usually erupts at least once a game. And few people can match one of Chaney's tantrums. The hands flail. The eyes bulge. And the booming voice could demolish a brick wall. You come to Temple, you're gonna get yelled at. When he's done, Chaney reverts to the streetwise father-figure who has built such a successful program - and plenty of character in his players. But during the tirade, look out.

This moment's target is point guard Rick Brunson, who has made the mistake of pushing the ball upcourt after a missed Alabama-Birmingham shot with 35 seconds remaining in Temple's home opener. Chaney wants patience and a last shot. Brunson wants to create some excitement. Ignite the crowd. He loses the ball with 18 seconds remaining, and Jones commits his second foul as UAB heads back upcourt. Chaney replaces Jones to guard against his picking up No. 3 and lights into Brunson.

"I don't want Ricky driving to the basket and trying to create shazam every play," Chaney says. "He cost Eddie his second foul.

"We can do it without Aaron, but we can't do it without Eddie. No way. We can't win without Eddie Jones."

Chaney isn't saying Jones is a better player than McKie. He's just different. And in many ways, more important to Temple, While McKie brings a variety of skills to the Owls, Jones brings pace, rhythm and flow. Chaney calls him a "mix-and-match player," somebody who can get the big rebound or the key steal, as well as the big basket.