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Looks like the Pellini method has other adherents. From today's JSO Lang article:
In the wrong hands, either the coach who does not also teach self-control or the player who does not exercise it, this is probably trouble waiting to happen.
Know this: T.J. Lang isn't a cookie-cutter offensive lineman. His technique isn't sculpted, his footwork isn't elegant. Lang is not necessarily a guard or a tackle. After converting from defense to offense at Eastern Michigan, his coach encouraged prison-rules abandon.
Chris Symington told Lang he needed to be different. He needed to "hate" opponents.
"He really took that on," said Symington, who now coaches at Colorado State-Pueblo. "He just didn't like people very much. . . . Once you walked on that field, he was trying to hurt you. He's too+ mean. He doesn't take (expletive) from anybody."
After three years of this in the Mid-American Conference from 2005-'07, Lang became bored. Complacent. It drove Symington mad. Berating Lang wouldn't work. The two were beyond that. And it's not like Symington could bench his best player.
So three games into Lang's final year in 2008 Symington tried to "stir his soul."
In the dark, dreary, dusty basement of Eastern Michigan's basketball arena, the coach brought Lang into a classroom at 7:30 p.m. Symington put game film on, set down the remote and told Lang to pretend he's a scout.
"Evaluate yourself and you let me know if you would draft you," Symington remembers telling Lang. "I'm going to leave and take however long it takes. You want to look at it for 5 minutes, you don't want to listen to me, you don't want to do (expletive), you want to walk out of here, that's fine.
"However long it takes, you look at yourself and you ask yourself if you would draft you.'"
Symington went home. Hours passed. The coach forgot Lang was still there when his cell phone lit up at 11 p.m. and Symington's wife wondered who on earth was texting her husband this late.
No need to panic. It was his left tackle.
Lang thanked his coach and said, "No," he would not draft himself. From that point on, something clicked. In the meeting room, Lang started diagramming blocking assignments. And on the field, he continued to play with a snarl, a swagger that'd compensate for any lack of grace.
"When he's riding that fine line you better watch the (expletive) out," Symington said. "He doesn't care who you are. He's going to try to hurt you. That's what I wanted him to do. I preached that daily. Is it right or wrong? I don't know. He's going to make a lot of (expletive) money."
Chris Symington told Lang he needed to be different. He needed to "hate" opponents.
"He really took that on," said Symington, who now coaches at Colorado State-Pueblo. "He just didn't like people very much. . . . Once you walked on that field, he was trying to hurt you. He's too+ mean. He doesn't take (expletive) from anybody."
After three years of this in the Mid-American Conference from 2005-'07, Lang became bored. Complacent. It drove Symington mad. Berating Lang wouldn't work. The two were beyond that. And it's not like Symington could bench his best player.
So three games into Lang's final year in 2008 Symington tried to "stir his soul."
In the dark, dreary, dusty basement of Eastern Michigan's basketball arena, the coach brought Lang into a classroom at 7:30 p.m. Symington put game film on, set down the remote and told Lang to pretend he's a scout.
"Evaluate yourself and you let me know if you would draft you," Symington remembers telling Lang. "I'm going to leave and take however long it takes. You want to look at it for 5 minutes, you don't want to listen to me, you don't want to do (expletive), you want to walk out of here, that's fine.
"However long it takes, you look at yourself and you ask yourself if you would draft you.'"
Symington went home. Hours passed. The coach forgot Lang was still there when his cell phone lit up at 11 p.m. and Symington's wife wondered who on earth was texting her husband this late.
No need to panic. It was his left tackle.
Lang thanked his coach and said, "No," he would not draft himself. From that point on, something clicked. In the meeting room, Lang started diagramming blocking assignments. And on the field, he continued to play with a snarl, a swagger that'd compensate for any lack of grace.
"When he's riding that fine line you better watch the (expletive) out," Symington said. "He doesn't care who you are. He's going to try to hurt you. That's what I wanted him to do. I preached that daily. Is it right or wrong? I don't know. He's going to make a lot of (expletive) money."
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