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By Paul Klee
Sunday, January 2, 2011 6:00 AM CDT
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Miss Saturday Sportsline? We've got the replay here.
CHAMPAIGN – Bruce Weber is scribbling notes onto a yellow pad of paper.
He is designing the practice plan for the Illinois basketball team's 37th practice session of this season. The detail of the plan, down to the minute and jargon, is military-like.
2:20 p.m.: Position work (Perimeter – curl cut into rip layup vs. contact; Post – downscreen dive, layups vs. contact).
2:40: 4-on-4 (open motion pro cut into down screen, transition on a defensive stop – and cross out if there isn't a layup).
2:55: Water break/free throws.
"It's like a lesson plan. That's the way I look at it," says Weber, whose No. 23 Illini host Wisconsin today (5 p.m., Big Ten Network). "When I was a teacher – and that was in 1978 – you try to do the same thing."
It is Dec. 9, the day after Illinois beat Oakland University 74-63 at the Assembly Hall. Weber's staff, minus assistant coach Jerrance Howard, who is recruiting in Houston, has gathered in the head coach's office for the daily meeting that precedes every practice.
Associate head coach Wayne McClain glances over a box score on the leather couch. Assistant Jay Price is in a lounger. Gary Nottingham, the assistant to the head coach, and Sean Harrington, the director of operations, lean forward in chairs.
Weber sits with a teacher's posture at his desk. His eyes focus intently when another staff member offers their opinion, and the head coach has the final say. The current debate is over which rebounding drill to begin with.
"Do you want to use the smaller hoops or the bubble (that insures a missed shot)?" Weber asks.
"Have you seen that Villanova rebounding drill that Chester (Frazier) has?" Nottingham says.
"I say we throw it up there and tell them, 'Go get it. Just go get it,' " McClain says. "If you don't rebound, you're out."
There will be five rebounding drills in this particular practice – and a mini-scrimmage in which teams are docked points for allowing an offensive rebound. One day after Oakland gathered 21 offensive boards against Illinois, the emphasis in this practice is clear.
"We watched 21 film clips from the Oakland game," Weber says later.
That number is no coincidence.
"It's a clip for every offensive rebound they (Oakland) got. And we showed the entire possession that led to the offensive rebound," Weber says. "That way, they can see how they got there, whether it's because of a block-out, a long rebound, the guards were running out too soon.
"Oakland is good, so it's not hard to make them look good in a clip tape. They're really good. (But) we can make somebody look really good in a clip tape. I remember last year watching a clip tape and saying, 'These guys are really good!' And then one of our video guys said, 'We had to work so hard to get any good plays out of it.' "
Today's staff meeting runs 42 minutes, and Weber will spend the next 55 minutes finalizing the practice plan. The conversation between the coaches spans multiple topics.
First, rebounding.
"We cannot criticize Jereme (Richmond) for rebounding," McClain says.
"He's a great offensive rebounder," Nottingham adds.
Next, officiating, in the previous game and the game in Seattle.
"(Against) Gonzaga, they were Big Ten refs," Weber says. "I like to have our guys on the road because it gives you a little better chance, and then you hope you can win at home (with another league's referees)."
On a wooden shelf above Weber's desk, there are 13 game balls that highlight signature moments in his 32-year career. There's a game ball from the 2005 NCAA title game, and another from the 2002 Sweet 16.
They are all regulation-sized for a men's game.
The final topic of this staff meeting, however, concerns the women's basketball that was used for the first 7 minutes, 22 seconds, of last night's game.
"(Tom) Izzo sent me a text," Weber says. "He wanted to know if he should call Nike so they can send us some more basketballs. He asked if we were out."
The daily staff meeting is the rare time when the door to Weber's office is closed. But The News-Gazette has been granted exclusive access to shadow Weber over four days in December. It allows an inside look at how the head coach operates on a daily basis, from practice planning to recruiting to film study to speaking at a women's luncheon.
On this day, he also helps organize the players moving from dorms to hotel rooms for the Christmas break, talks with NBA bigwig John Paxson about reserving Bulls tickets for the Illini and draws up a new play on a sheet of paper hanging on an office wall. More than anything, he grills the players about preparing for their final exams.
"If you do not study and take care of business," he says later, at the end of practice, "You ... will ... not ... play. That's it."
Those two hours you see Weber on the Illinois sideline during a game? It is a miniscule percentage of what the coach's daily life entails.
The staff meeting is over. The office door cracks open.
D.J. Richardson, a sophomore guard, pokes in his head. He's carrying a backpack.
Weber: "D.J.! How did you do on your project?"
Richardson: "Good. I think we did good, Coach."
"Like, 'You're telling your coach you did good, or you actually did good?' "
"I bet we got an 'A.' Or maybe a 'B.' It's good, though."
"What was the project about?"
"Oh, sure. It's a project on the dangers of texting while driving."
"Is that why you texted me yesterday to tell me don't text while driving?"
"Yeah. It's dangerous."
Richardson grins as he turns down the hallway.
"See, Coach. I told you we did good."
n n n
At 9:52 a.m. on a game day, Weber walks with a purpose into the basketball office. He always walks with a purpose, with a quick gait like he's being timed.
That's the first thing you learn about the 54-year-old: He is in constant motion, from the time he wakes shortly after 6 a.m. There is not enough time in the day for his duties, so he wastes none of what he is given.
Somewhat remarkably given the pace of his day, he doesn't drink coffee. The mini-fridge near his office desk houses an endless supply of bottled Diet Cokes, though he's on a mission to limit himself to three per day. "I'm trying to drink more water," he says.
The second thing you learn: His memory is creepy sharp. An assistant asks if freshman Meyers Leonard has a final exam on Friday. "Yes," Weber says. "At 10." He adds that Richardson, Brandon Paul and Jereme Richmond have an exam at 1:30. When Mike Davis visits the office and heads toward the candy bowl, the coach says, "Sorry I'm out of Airheads, Mike. I'll get some more."
He remembers Chester Frazier, the former Illini point guard and now the video coordinator, has a play he wants to use in practice today.
"We used it in Germany," Frazier says. "We got a layup every time."
Weber remembers he likes the play.
That memory is handy given the coach's schedule. To give an idea of his jam-packed itinerary, the coach has dinner at home with his wife only once this week. It's worth noting this is a stretch where Illinois doesn't play a road game for 10 days.
Megan Weber made chicken and sweet potatoes, and her husband says it was delicious.
"What night would that have been? I can't remember. But I know there was one night we had dinner together," he says later. "It wasn't Thursday. She had a charity event – Buddy Backpacks, where you pack the backpacks for the kids, you know? Wednesday night we had a game. I can't remember what night it was.
"Oh, it was Monday. Between practice and the radio show I ran home and we had dinner together. It was nice."
On Friday his wife joins him on a recruiting trip to Chicago. She shops while he visits two high school games and a practice.
"Is that a new fridge?" Weber asks as he walks past office secretary Julie Pioletti.
The office is abuzz about the new fridge. Weber stops only for a minute – to check out the fridge and see if Bulls tickets have been reserved – then hurries into his office.
A game film of Oakland playing Purdue is already loaded on the 50-inch flat screen. Photos of James Augustine (holding a Magic jersey), Dee Brown (Jazz), Luther Head (Rockets) and Deron Williams (with an Olympic gold medal) surround the TV.
Illinois hosts Oakland in about 8 hours. At first you wonder if Weber is watching the film. He is busy attacking a stack of autograph requests – more than 100 today – just days after he signed 500 autographs on a return flight from Seattle. His attention to detail on each autograph is similar to the practice plan; sometimes he uses an orange marker for "Bruce Weber" and a blue marker for "Go Illini!"
"This is where they slip the big guy for a dunk. Watch. There's a screen – and it's not really a screen, they just kind of clip you – and he slips. Dunk."
Indeed, he is watching the film, apparently with a third eye. This is the third time he has scouted clips of Oakland. McClain, the assistant in charge of the scouting report, watched four game films.
"This is what scares you."
Weber rewinds the film.
"They're very good at dribble penetration. And we have trouble with little, quick guys. They attack the lane, throw it up, and the big guy gets a tip-in.
"They're older, too. That's what scares the heck out of me. They've got a couple fourth-year guys and a couple fifth-year guys. And No. 23 is from Chicago, so he'll be all jacked up to play. This won't be an easy game."
His phone rings for the third time in 12 minutes. He takes this one. It's his brother, Dave Weber, the boys' basketball coach at Glenbrook North High School.
"David. So you won at the buzzer?"
If there is a busier cell phone in Champaign-Urbana than Weber's, it must be owned by one of his assistants. Text messages received this morning range from Izzo, the Michigan State coach, to his youngest daughter, a freshman at the UI.
The previous night he got a text message from D.J. Richardson, who, after watching film of Oakland, informed Weber he wants to defend No. 23. Weber also spoke last night with recruit Mycheal Henry, a star senior at Chicago Orr.
"The kids that are signed, one of the assistants will call once a week. Then I'll call once a week," he says. "Usually I'll call on Sunday night and ask, 'How did you guys do? How did you play? How's school going?' Just to make sure everything's good.
"Mike Henry calls all the time. I mean, he calls all the time. He's just checking in. He's excited."
Weber clicks off the TV. He throws on a coat and heads to his car. Next on the agenda is a presentation at a women's luncheon. The attendees at Kennedy's restaurant in Urbana include many of the mothers of the players: Ann Cole, Lolita Bertrand, Deanna Griffey, Tangie Davis and others.
This is a scene where Weber shines. There is no filter in his words. Jokes fly one after the other. It's the type of environment where people walk away saying, "He's so funny," and it's true.
Actually, he's just so human, so Midwest, so one of you, that if his program returns to a championship level, it's easy to believe he would be one the most popular coaches to ever roam these cornfields.
"Rod Cardinal sent us an e-mail that told us not to wear sweats," Weber addresses the crowd. "Well, I don't use e-mails, so I didn't see it."
Laughs from the audience. In a white Illini polo and gray wind pants, Weber continues.
"As you can see, I wore sweats – and all my assistants dressed up! So now I'm going to get an ear-chewing from Rod."
More laughs.
All at once Weber is a coach, a scout, a recruiter, a celebrity, a ticket broker, a father figure (to his three girls and several players), a husband, a comedian, indifferent toward technology, the face of Illinois basketball. That's by 2 o'clock on a Wednesday.
Weber doesn't have a hobby. Oh, he adores scuba diving and last summer pulled a hamstring because he went too hard in a tennis match. But he doesn't play golf or cards or have a pastime that consumes his life away from work.
There is his family, and there is Illinois basketball.
"No one outworks Coach Weber. He's a dog," assistant Jerrance Howard says. "You should see him on the road (recruiting). Sometimes I have trouble keeping up with him."
The final stop in this two-hour window is the Bielfeldt Athletic Administration Building. He's been asked to film a video promo that will be shown during the Northern Colorado game and on the DIA's Web site.
"How does it go? From our family to yours, happy holidays from the University of Illinois? Is that what it is?
"Testing, testing, one-two-three. From our family to yours, happy holidays from the University of Illinois. And go Illini!"
He nails it on the fourth take. Still, the piece takes almost 10 minutes to record, only because Weber starts a conversation with Frank Lenti Jr., the production specialist behind the camera. His father is the longtime football coach at Chicago Mount Carmel.
"Your dad asked me if (basketball recruit) Tracy Abrams could come out for the (Mount Carmel) football team. I think he saw where I said I like to coach football players. He could be a DB. Or maybe a running back. He's got that stocky body. He's pretty tough."
This is where Weber's schedule has a tendency to get off track. He talks to everyone. There is no big-timing, and he's not what you'd call smooth or refined. But he knows small talk is bigger when you're the head basketball coach at Illinois.
It's why he will speak at yet another Rotary event at 7:30 a.m. Monday, and why he's lobbied for more speaking engagements in small towns like Robinson and Paris.
"Those are our fans. You can't forget about them. Those are people that bleed orange and blue and watch every game and probably have watched every game for 50 years."
It's just who he is. And it is not hard to learn where it comes from, either.
"My dad, he had a real dynamic personality. It's a funny thing. He loved to talk," Weber says. "He was very well-known. He would talk to anybody, especially about sports.
"He came over on the boat from Austria when he was young. My grandparents spoke German. He didn't really have success in school because he didn't know. It wasn't that important to him. I was telling this to Jerrance the other day: My dad didn't have a chance to go to college because he didn't have the grades. But athletically he was recruited in everything: basketball, football.
"He always felt he didn't have an opportunity to go to college. He told us, 'You're going to college. You have no choice.' He wanted to be a teacher and a coach. He would say, 'What better life can you have than to help other people?' "
The five Weber kids were coaches or teachers. His first year out of college, Bruce taught the fifth grade.
"He played basketball until he was 58 or so. We had a lot of games in our alley – 2-on-2 with the brothers and the dad. It was intense. He beat the crap out of you – literally. Physically he played very hard. We learned how to compete or get beat up."
Weber is paid well to make his extraordinary schedule work. He still sometimes uses coupons but could afford to order a stack of pizzas at the end of his oldest daughter's wedding in May, because someone mentioned they were hungry. Last year he received a 50 percent raise that upped his annual salary to $1.5 million.
Even so, money is not a driving force. If it was, he would have an agent – and he still doesn't have an agent, a rare case in high-major coaching.
Respected peers like Matt Painter and Chris Lowery, two of his former assistants, have encouraged Weber to hire one. He refuses.
"Guys tell me I should have one. I don't see why. I have a lawyer that looks over (contracts) for me," Weber says. "(As far as) money, I'll make more in one year than probably my dad did in his lifetime. That's not what's important.
"I'll be honest, I've never gone into Mr. (Ron) Guenther's office or anyone's office and said, 'I want this, I want that.' With Mr. Guenther you probably don't do that anyway or he'll show you the way out.
"He'll say to me, 'This is what I'm offering, what do you think of that?' And that's fine. That was the same thing with Coach (Gene) Keady, too. We won three Big Ten championships in like a five-year period. Then we came back and won three more in a row. And we would be the lowest-paid assistants in the Big Ten. Then we would say something to Coach, and he would say, 'If you don't like it, leave. There's the door.'
"So Coach Keady was old-school like my dad: This is what it is and this is what it gets."
n n n
It is noon on Friday. Today's agenda involves another review of the Oakland game and preparations for a home game against Northern Colorado on Sunday.
For each game, an assistant is responsible for the scouting report of the opponent. He will watch anywhere from three to five game tapes of that team. The film is edited through special software designed by LRS Sports, which allows coaches to categorize each possession the opponent has played this season.
With the click of a computer mouse, Nottingham searches and finds nine clips of Oakland running a "2 High Ball Screen" and 17 clips of Oakland running an in-bounds play. There are 17 clips of Oakland in transition – and software indicates the Grizzlies scored on eight of them. In addition to the assistants' film study, Weber will watch three to four game films.
He is looking for their strengths – but also their weaknesses.
"Once you get later in the season, and you have so many games you can watch, my thing is to find teams that have beat them. See what they did to beat them," Weber says. "It's also about what they do well, but I like to have our guys see what other teams did to beat them.
"I'll ask Wayne (McClain), 'What have you guys watched?' Then I'll find another film they haven't watched.
"I think it's the one thing in the Big Ten that is different: the preparation. Now, do we have quite the athletes? I don't know. But the preparation, everybody is doing it. I think that's why sometimes it's so hard as a freshman or a juco guy to come in and make an impact right away."
Weber has finalized his handwritten practice plan and slides the sheet to Pioletti, the office secretary. She types it, acknowledging the coach's writing is usually easy to read.
"Film!" Weber shouts down to the court at Ubben Basketball Complex.
Players file into the adjacent video room for a 20-minute study.
Weber is back to being a basketball coach. This is his element, on the practice court. His voice echoes with each drill. Warmups begin with the traditional three-man weave.
"Make the shot! It matters!"
He separates the sides: "D.J.'s blue, Tyler's blue, Jereme's blue, Tisdale's blue, Canada's blue, Joseph's blue." He ribs McCamey for a heat-check three-pointer in the previous game. He moves from station to station with a quick pace, as though he is being timed.
"Get some energy today!"
The first drill emphasizes rebounding. "Two-man block-out!" he shouts. So does the second drill, a three-man block-out. Defenders stutter-step out to their man for a proper closeout, screen their man from the ball and chase the missed shot.
Weber rewards a defensive rebound with, "Good, good!" and whistles the next possession to a stop when there's an offensive rebound.
"Guys, did you watch the film? This doesn't do any good!"
As the shot goes up, Weber throws his backside into D.J. Richardson. But the coach doesn't chase the ball.
"You have to go get the ball! It's just bouncing there. Go get it! This is a good opportunity to develop good habits. Get a body into him – and then go get the ball. You can do it. I've seen you do it since you were in the 10th grade!"
Every drill in the 100-minute practice is based on competition. During a 4-on-4 exercise, the scoring team maintains possession until there is a defensive stop. A defensive stop gets a point. An offensive rebound is minus-1 point for the defensive team.
With the promise of a water break at the next stop, the rebounding drill morphs into a wrestling match. A loose ball pulls four bodies to the floor. The hesitant are beaten. The fearless are rewarded. Senior forward Bill Cole and his knees screech across the floor for a bouncing ball.
"Good job, Billy!"
Back in his office, Weber grabs a marker. He walks to a sheet of paper hanging on the wall. He scribbles the lane and a hoop. He draws a play he saw in an NBA game the previous night.
"When Meyers has it – or when Tiz has it – the 4 man is here. You have him come right to the elbow."
Two more scribbles. It's 5:36 p.m. He will have dinner at home tonight.
"He hands it off, ball screen, he's running, he's popping, he's wide open. Hit this guy – boom – or you have a layup."
Sunday, January 2, 2011 6:00 AM CDT
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Miss Saturday Sportsline? We've got the replay here.
CHAMPAIGN – Bruce Weber is scribbling notes onto a yellow pad of paper.
He is designing the practice plan for the Illinois basketball team's 37th practice session of this season. The detail of the plan, down to the minute and jargon, is military-like.
2:20 p.m.: Position work (Perimeter – curl cut into rip layup vs. contact; Post – downscreen dive, layups vs. contact).
2:40: 4-on-4 (open motion pro cut into down screen, transition on a defensive stop – and cross out if there isn't a layup).
2:55: Water break/free throws.
"It's like a lesson plan. That's the way I look at it," says Weber, whose No. 23 Illini host Wisconsin today (5 p.m., Big Ten Network). "When I was a teacher – and that was in 1978 – you try to do the same thing."
It is Dec. 9, the day after Illinois beat Oakland University 74-63 at the Assembly Hall. Weber's staff, minus assistant coach Jerrance Howard, who is recruiting in Houston, has gathered in the head coach's office for the daily meeting that precedes every practice.
Associate head coach Wayne McClain glances over a box score on the leather couch. Assistant Jay Price is in a lounger. Gary Nottingham, the assistant to the head coach, and Sean Harrington, the director of operations, lean forward in chairs.
Weber sits with a teacher's posture at his desk. His eyes focus intently when another staff member offers their opinion, and the head coach has the final say. The current debate is over which rebounding drill to begin with.
"Do you want to use the smaller hoops or the bubble (that insures a missed shot)?" Weber asks.
"Have you seen that Villanova rebounding drill that Chester (Frazier) has?" Nottingham says.
"I say we throw it up there and tell them, 'Go get it. Just go get it,' " McClain says. "If you don't rebound, you're out."
There will be five rebounding drills in this particular practice – and a mini-scrimmage in which teams are docked points for allowing an offensive rebound. One day after Oakland gathered 21 offensive boards against Illinois, the emphasis in this practice is clear.
"We watched 21 film clips from the Oakland game," Weber says later.
That number is no coincidence.
"It's a clip for every offensive rebound they (Oakland) got. And we showed the entire possession that led to the offensive rebound," Weber says. "That way, they can see how they got there, whether it's because of a block-out, a long rebound, the guards were running out too soon.
"Oakland is good, so it's not hard to make them look good in a clip tape. They're really good. (But) we can make somebody look really good in a clip tape. I remember last year watching a clip tape and saying, 'These guys are really good!' And then one of our video guys said, 'We had to work so hard to get any good plays out of it.' "
Today's staff meeting runs 42 minutes, and Weber will spend the next 55 minutes finalizing the practice plan. The conversation between the coaches spans multiple topics.
First, rebounding.
"We cannot criticize Jereme (Richmond) for rebounding," McClain says.
"He's a great offensive rebounder," Nottingham adds.
Next, officiating, in the previous game and the game in Seattle.
"(Against) Gonzaga, they were Big Ten refs," Weber says. "I like to have our guys on the road because it gives you a little better chance, and then you hope you can win at home (with another league's referees)."
On a wooden shelf above Weber's desk, there are 13 game balls that highlight signature moments in his 32-year career. There's a game ball from the 2005 NCAA title game, and another from the 2002 Sweet 16.
They are all regulation-sized for a men's game.
The final topic of this staff meeting, however, concerns the women's basketball that was used for the first 7 minutes, 22 seconds, of last night's game.
"(Tom) Izzo sent me a text," Weber says. "He wanted to know if he should call Nike so they can send us some more basketballs. He asked if we were out."
The daily staff meeting is the rare time when the door to Weber's office is closed. But The News-Gazette has been granted exclusive access to shadow Weber over four days in December. It allows an inside look at how the head coach operates on a daily basis, from practice planning to recruiting to film study to speaking at a women's luncheon.
On this day, he also helps organize the players moving from dorms to hotel rooms for the Christmas break, talks with NBA bigwig John Paxson about reserving Bulls tickets for the Illini and draws up a new play on a sheet of paper hanging on an office wall. More than anything, he grills the players about preparing for their final exams.
"If you do not study and take care of business," he says later, at the end of practice, "You ... will ... not ... play. That's it."
Those two hours you see Weber on the Illinois sideline during a game? It is a miniscule percentage of what the coach's daily life entails.
The staff meeting is over. The office door cracks open.
D.J. Richardson, a sophomore guard, pokes in his head. He's carrying a backpack.
Weber: "D.J.! How did you do on your project?"
Richardson: "Good. I think we did good, Coach."
"Like, 'You're telling your coach you did good, or you actually did good?' "
"I bet we got an 'A.' Or maybe a 'B.' It's good, though."
"What was the project about?"
"Oh, sure. It's a project on the dangers of texting while driving."
"Is that why you texted me yesterday to tell me don't text while driving?"
"Yeah. It's dangerous."
Richardson grins as he turns down the hallway.
"See, Coach. I told you we did good."
n n n
At 9:52 a.m. on a game day, Weber walks with a purpose into the basketball office. He always walks with a purpose, with a quick gait like he's being timed.
That's the first thing you learn about the 54-year-old: He is in constant motion, from the time he wakes shortly after 6 a.m. There is not enough time in the day for his duties, so he wastes none of what he is given.
Somewhat remarkably given the pace of his day, he doesn't drink coffee. The mini-fridge near his office desk houses an endless supply of bottled Diet Cokes, though he's on a mission to limit himself to three per day. "I'm trying to drink more water," he says.
The second thing you learn: His memory is creepy sharp. An assistant asks if freshman Meyers Leonard has a final exam on Friday. "Yes," Weber says. "At 10." He adds that Richardson, Brandon Paul and Jereme Richmond have an exam at 1:30. When Mike Davis visits the office and heads toward the candy bowl, the coach says, "Sorry I'm out of Airheads, Mike. I'll get some more."
He remembers Chester Frazier, the former Illini point guard and now the video coordinator, has a play he wants to use in practice today.
"We used it in Germany," Frazier says. "We got a layup every time."
Weber remembers he likes the play.
That memory is handy given the coach's schedule. To give an idea of his jam-packed itinerary, the coach has dinner at home with his wife only once this week. It's worth noting this is a stretch where Illinois doesn't play a road game for 10 days.
Megan Weber made chicken and sweet potatoes, and her husband says it was delicious.
"What night would that have been? I can't remember. But I know there was one night we had dinner together," he says later. "It wasn't Thursday. She had a charity event – Buddy Backpacks, where you pack the backpacks for the kids, you know? Wednesday night we had a game. I can't remember what night it was.
"Oh, it was Monday. Between practice and the radio show I ran home and we had dinner together. It was nice."
On Friday his wife joins him on a recruiting trip to Chicago. She shops while he visits two high school games and a practice.
"Is that a new fridge?" Weber asks as he walks past office secretary Julie Pioletti.
The office is abuzz about the new fridge. Weber stops only for a minute – to check out the fridge and see if Bulls tickets have been reserved – then hurries into his office.
A game film of Oakland playing Purdue is already loaded on the 50-inch flat screen. Photos of James Augustine (holding a Magic jersey), Dee Brown (Jazz), Luther Head (Rockets) and Deron Williams (with an Olympic gold medal) surround the TV.
Illinois hosts Oakland in about 8 hours. At first you wonder if Weber is watching the film. He is busy attacking a stack of autograph requests – more than 100 today – just days after he signed 500 autographs on a return flight from Seattle. His attention to detail on each autograph is similar to the practice plan; sometimes he uses an orange marker for "Bruce Weber" and a blue marker for "Go Illini!"
"This is where they slip the big guy for a dunk. Watch. There's a screen – and it's not really a screen, they just kind of clip you – and he slips. Dunk."
Indeed, he is watching the film, apparently with a third eye. This is the third time he has scouted clips of Oakland. McClain, the assistant in charge of the scouting report, watched four game films.
"This is what scares you."
Weber rewinds the film.
"They're very good at dribble penetration. And we have trouble with little, quick guys. They attack the lane, throw it up, and the big guy gets a tip-in.
"They're older, too. That's what scares the heck out of me. They've got a couple fourth-year guys and a couple fifth-year guys. And No. 23 is from Chicago, so he'll be all jacked up to play. This won't be an easy game."
His phone rings for the third time in 12 minutes. He takes this one. It's his brother, Dave Weber, the boys' basketball coach at Glenbrook North High School.
"David. So you won at the buzzer?"
If there is a busier cell phone in Champaign-Urbana than Weber's, it must be owned by one of his assistants. Text messages received this morning range from Izzo, the Michigan State coach, to his youngest daughter, a freshman at the UI.
The previous night he got a text message from D.J. Richardson, who, after watching film of Oakland, informed Weber he wants to defend No. 23. Weber also spoke last night with recruit Mycheal Henry, a star senior at Chicago Orr.
"The kids that are signed, one of the assistants will call once a week. Then I'll call once a week," he says. "Usually I'll call on Sunday night and ask, 'How did you guys do? How did you play? How's school going?' Just to make sure everything's good.
"Mike Henry calls all the time. I mean, he calls all the time. He's just checking in. He's excited."
Weber clicks off the TV. He throws on a coat and heads to his car. Next on the agenda is a presentation at a women's luncheon. The attendees at Kennedy's restaurant in Urbana include many of the mothers of the players: Ann Cole, Lolita Bertrand, Deanna Griffey, Tangie Davis and others.
This is a scene where Weber shines. There is no filter in his words. Jokes fly one after the other. It's the type of environment where people walk away saying, "He's so funny," and it's true.
Actually, he's just so human, so Midwest, so one of you, that if his program returns to a championship level, it's easy to believe he would be one the most popular coaches to ever roam these cornfields.
"Rod Cardinal sent us an e-mail that told us not to wear sweats," Weber addresses the crowd. "Well, I don't use e-mails, so I didn't see it."
Laughs from the audience. In a white Illini polo and gray wind pants, Weber continues.
"As you can see, I wore sweats – and all my assistants dressed up! So now I'm going to get an ear-chewing from Rod."
More laughs.
All at once Weber is a coach, a scout, a recruiter, a celebrity, a ticket broker, a father figure (to his three girls and several players), a husband, a comedian, indifferent toward technology, the face of Illinois basketball. That's by 2 o'clock on a Wednesday.
Weber doesn't have a hobby. Oh, he adores scuba diving and last summer pulled a hamstring because he went too hard in a tennis match. But he doesn't play golf or cards or have a pastime that consumes his life away from work.
There is his family, and there is Illinois basketball.
"No one outworks Coach Weber. He's a dog," assistant Jerrance Howard says. "You should see him on the road (recruiting). Sometimes I have trouble keeping up with him."
The final stop in this two-hour window is the Bielfeldt Athletic Administration Building. He's been asked to film a video promo that will be shown during the Northern Colorado game and on the DIA's Web site.
"How does it go? From our family to yours, happy holidays from the University of Illinois? Is that what it is?
"Testing, testing, one-two-three. From our family to yours, happy holidays from the University of Illinois. And go Illini!"
He nails it on the fourth take. Still, the piece takes almost 10 minutes to record, only because Weber starts a conversation with Frank Lenti Jr., the production specialist behind the camera. His father is the longtime football coach at Chicago Mount Carmel.
"Your dad asked me if (basketball recruit) Tracy Abrams could come out for the (Mount Carmel) football team. I think he saw where I said I like to coach football players. He could be a DB. Or maybe a running back. He's got that stocky body. He's pretty tough."
This is where Weber's schedule has a tendency to get off track. He talks to everyone. There is no big-timing, and he's not what you'd call smooth or refined. But he knows small talk is bigger when you're the head basketball coach at Illinois.
It's why he will speak at yet another Rotary event at 7:30 a.m. Monday, and why he's lobbied for more speaking engagements in small towns like Robinson and Paris.
"Those are our fans. You can't forget about them. Those are people that bleed orange and blue and watch every game and probably have watched every game for 50 years."
It's just who he is. And it is not hard to learn where it comes from, either.
"My dad, he had a real dynamic personality. It's a funny thing. He loved to talk," Weber says. "He was very well-known. He would talk to anybody, especially about sports.
"He came over on the boat from Austria when he was young. My grandparents spoke German. He didn't really have success in school because he didn't know. It wasn't that important to him. I was telling this to Jerrance the other day: My dad didn't have a chance to go to college because he didn't have the grades. But athletically he was recruited in everything: basketball, football.
"He always felt he didn't have an opportunity to go to college. He told us, 'You're going to college. You have no choice.' He wanted to be a teacher and a coach. He would say, 'What better life can you have than to help other people?' "
The five Weber kids were coaches or teachers. His first year out of college, Bruce taught the fifth grade.
"He played basketball until he was 58 or so. We had a lot of games in our alley – 2-on-2 with the brothers and the dad. It was intense. He beat the crap out of you – literally. Physically he played very hard. We learned how to compete or get beat up."
Weber is paid well to make his extraordinary schedule work. He still sometimes uses coupons but could afford to order a stack of pizzas at the end of his oldest daughter's wedding in May, because someone mentioned they were hungry. Last year he received a 50 percent raise that upped his annual salary to $1.5 million.
Even so, money is not a driving force. If it was, he would have an agent – and he still doesn't have an agent, a rare case in high-major coaching.
Respected peers like Matt Painter and Chris Lowery, two of his former assistants, have encouraged Weber to hire one. He refuses.
"Guys tell me I should have one. I don't see why. I have a lawyer that looks over (contracts) for me," Weber says. "(As far as) money, I'll make more in one year than probably my dad did in his lifetime. That's not what's important.
"I'll be honest, I've never gone into Mr. (Ron) Guenther's office or anyone's office and said, 'I want this, I want that.' With Mr. Guenther you probably don't do that anyway or he'll show you the way out.
"He'll say to me, 'This is what I'm offering, what do you think of that?' And that's fine. That was the same thing with Coach (Gene) Keady, too. We won three Big Ten championships in like a five-year period. Then we came back and won three more in a row. And we would be the lowest-paid assistants in the Big Ten. Then we would say something to Coach, and he would say, 'If you don't like it, leave. There's the door.'
"So Coach Keady was old-school like my dad: This is what it is and this is what it gets."
n n n
It is noon on Friday. Today's agenda involves another review of the Oakland game and preparations for a home game against Northern Colorado on Sunday.
For each game, an assistant is responsible for the scouting report of the opponent. He will watch anywhere from three to five game tapes of that team. The film is edited through special software designed by LRS Sports, which allows coaches to categorize each possession the opponent has played this season.
With the click of a computer mouse, Nottingham searches and finds nine clips of Oakland running a "2 High Ball Screen" and 17 clips of Oakland running an in-bounds play. There are 17 clips of Oakland in transition – and software indicates the Grizzlies scored on eight of them. In addition to the assistants' film study, Weber will watch three to four game films.
He is looking for their strengths – but also their weaknesses.
"Once you get later in the season, and you have so many games you can watch, my thing is to find teams that have beat them. See what they did to beat them," Weber says. "It's also about what they do well, but I like to have our guys see what other teams did to beat them.
"I'll ask Wayne (McClain), 'What have you guys watched?' Then I'll find another film they haven't watched.
"I think it's the one thing in the Big Ten that is different: the preparation. Now, do we have quite the athletes? I don't know. But the preparation, everybody is doing it. I think that's why sometimes it's so hard as a freshman or a juco guy to come in and make an impact right away."
Weber has finalized his handwritten practice plan and slides the sheet to Pioletti, the office secretary. She types it, acknowledging the coach's writing is usually easy to read.
"Film!" Weber shouts down to the court at Ubben Basketball Complex.
Players file into the adjacent video room for a 20-minute study.
Weber is back to being a basketball coach. This is his element, on the practice court. His voice echoes with each drill. Warmups begin with the traditional three-man weave.
"Make the shot! It matters!"
He separates the sides: "D.J.'s blue, Tyler's blue, Jereme's blue, Tisdale's blue, Canada's blue, Joseph's blue." He ribs McCamey for a heat-check three-pointer in the previous game. He moves from station to station with a quick pace, as though he is being timed.
"Get some energy today!"
The first drill emphasizes rebounding. "Two-man block-out!" he shouts. So does the second drill, a three-man block-out. Defenders stutter-step out to their man for a proper closeout, screen their man from the ball and chase the missed shot.
Weber rewards a defensive rebound with, "Good, good!" and whistles the next possession to a stop when there's an offensive rebound.
"Guys, did you watch the film? This doesn't do any good!"
As the shot goes up, Weber throws his backside into D.J. Richardson. But the coach doesn't chase the ball.
"You have to go get the ball! It's just bouncing there. Go get it! This is a good opportunity to develop good habits. Get a body into him – and then go get the ball. You can do it. I've seen you do it since you were in the 10th grade!"
Every drill in the 100-minute practice is based on competition. During a 4-on-4 exercise, the scoring team maintains possession until there is a defensive stop. A defensive stop gets a point. An offensive rebound is minus-1 point for the defensive team.
With the promise of a water break at the next stop, the rebounding drill morphs into a wrestling match. A loose ball pulls four bodies to the floor. The hesitant are beaten. The fearless are rewarded. Senior forward Bill Cole and his knees screech across the floor for a bouncing ball.
"Good job, Billy!"
Back in his office, Weber grabs a marker. He walks to a sheet of paper hanging on the wall. He scribbles the lane and a hoop. He draws a play he saw in an NBA game the previous night.
"When Meyers has it – or when Tiz has it – the 4 man is here. You have him come right to the elbow."
Two more scribbles. It's 5:36 p.m. He will have dinner at home tonight.
"He hands it off, ball screen, he's running, he's popping, he's wide open. Hit this guy – boom – or you have a layup."