Mr.Bottomtooth
01-16-2009, 10:11 PM
Lure of Pro Ball Still Tugs at Pittsnogle
Published: January 15, 2009
MARTINSBURG, W.Va. — There is a middle school up the hill from the McDonald’s here, and behind it are several classroom trailers, the type that are added when space gets tight and are never taken away.
Inside one of the trailers last Friday stood a tall man with a familiar face. He wore a Bugs Bunny tie and a gray dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Tattoos spilled to his wrists. He spoke kindly to two of his special education students, who called him Mr. Pittsnogle.
On the inside of the door was a sign: “You are who you choose to be.”
For now, this is who Kevin Pittsnogle chooses to be.
Less than four years ago, he was a basketball star and a folk hero, a homegrown kid with a funny name, a bowl haircut, a 6-foot-11 frame covered in tattoos, and a baby-soft 3-point shot. During West Virginia’s unexpected thrill ride to the quarterfinals of the 2005 N.C.A.A. tournament, his name became a taunting verb: you’ve been Pittsnogled. His mother still has a box of the T-shirts in a closet.
Less than three years ago, Pittsnogle was an all-American senior averaging 19.3 points who led West Virginia to the 2006 regional semifinals. He expected to be chosen in the N.B.A draft. He was not.
Now, at 24, he is a middle school teacher in his hometown. He is also an unpaid assistant coach for a high school basketball team. He bowls in leagues three nights a week and occasionally plays bingo at Big Bucks Bingo. His wife, Heather, is a bank teller. They have two children and live in a double-wide trailer, and together they wonder how much appetite they have for uprooting their lives again so Pittsnogle can have one more chance at a basketball career.
His more immediate concern is to graduate special education students into regular classes.
You are who you choose to be.
“I wasn’t supposed to do anything else but basketball, I think, in everybody else’s mind,” Pittsnogle said.
Most students see him mostly as the tall new teacher. Outside of school, though, he signs autographs and draws stares from long distances. Last fall, he attended a West Virginia football game in Morgantown with the Hedgesville High School basketball coach, Kelly Church, who made Pittsnogle an assistant.
“It’s like walking through a mall with Santa Claus a week before Christmas,” Church said.
People approach Pittsnogle because he is both an icon and one of them. They excitedly review his exploits at West Virginia, maybe his 22 points and 8 rebounds in the 2005 tournament against Texas Tech or the 25 points he had in the overtime loss to Louisville in the regional final. They tell him that they wish he were still playing basketball.
“I’ll say, ‘Me, too — sometimes,’ ” Pittsnogle said.
He laughed his good-natured laugh, and sounded like someone who truly was not so sure.
In two years he played for nine teams, in the Continental Basketball Association, the N.B.A.’s development league, the N.B.A.’s summer leagues, in France and in Puerto Rico.
Last summer, he suspended the chase. He just wanted to come home again.
“I thought, I’m done for good,” he said.
Pittsnogle took to living the life he expected and wanted before he shot his way into the national consciousness and the sporting lore of West Virginia, before broader expectations built inside him and were heaped on him by outsiders.
“That Kevin has played a little bit of pro ball and that he is now back here teaching is, I think, a very powerful lesson to our students here,” said Liz Ward, the principal of Martinsburg North Middle School who hired Pittsnogle. “All kids in middle school, and this one is no different, they all think they’re going to be pro ballplayers.”
And if Kevin Pittsnogle — Mr. Pittsnogle — cannot do it, then chances are that they will not, either.
As a player, Pittsnogle is a pure shooter whose body does not match his skills. Kelvin Sampson, then the coach at Oklahoma, once called him a “two-guard who grew to 6-11.” After college, Pittsnogle’s weight grew, too, by about 40 pounds, to 300.
“I kept hearing, ‘You’re overweight,’ ” Pittsnogle said. “ ‘You can average 20 points a game, but we’re not going to bring you up until you lose some weight.’ ”
Instead, he shed the burden of hoop dreams. His circuitous journey, usually with the family in tow (a son, Kwynsie, is nearly 3, and a daughter, Amyyah, was born in May), grew tiresome.
With a physical education degree from West Virginia and a few credits toward a master’s, he approached Ward. Her middle school is across town from where Pittsnogle grew up, but it shares the familiar burdens of high poverty (65 percent of students are eligible for free or reduced school lunches) and broken homes.
“I never had a whole lot of money growing up,” Pittsnogle said. “I wanted to be able to help out the kids that needed help the most.”
In December, while shopping with his mother, he saw Reebok shoes on sale. He bought a pair for each of his students.
“Kevin definitely has a heart for kids,” Ward said.
But something happened on the way back to an ordinary life. Pittsnogle learned last fall that he had a thyroid condition that slowed his metabolism. It helped explain his fluctuating weight, long trending upward.
Medication has helped him lose 25 pounds and re-energize his playing hopes. He is pondering N.B.A. summer leagues, one last time.
“If I look the way I’m supposed to look, and play the way I’m supposed to play, I think I’ll get a chance,” Pittsnogle said. “If not, I’ll come back and live my life here.”
His attitude is dipped in realism. A teacher at his level makes about $25,000. A four-month season in the N.B.A.’s developmental league pays about the same, but would keep hope for an N.B.A. career alive. An offer, though, would force a decision over whether to leave the family behind or have his wife quit her job.
Playing overseas can be far more lucrative but more discombobulating.
“I’m open to anything,” Heather Pittsnogle said, holding 8-month-old Amyyah while speaking Friday night over the din of a high school game between Jefferson and Hedgesville, a rival of Martinsburg High, where Pittsnogle starred. “But I might have to bite my tongue if we go overseas.”
Pittsnogle whispered into the ears of players as they came off the court and cheered good plays. People in the stands occasionally pointed at him.
Long after Hedgesville won, Pittsnogle stood in the gym, dressed in his Bugs Bunny tie and gray dress shirt, rolled to the elbows. On a dare, he grabbed a ball and effortlessly flipped a shot from behind the 3-point arc. It hit the back of the rim.
He asked for the ball again. This time, nothing but net. He shrugged.
Kevin Pittsnogle has chosen who he wants to be. But he wants one more shot at being who he was.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/16/sports/ncaabasketball/16pittsnogle.html?_r=1&ref=sports
Published: January 15, 2009
MARTINSBURG, W.Va. — There is a middle school up the hill from the McDonald’s here, and behind it are several classroom trailers, the type that are added when space gets tight and are never taken away.
Inside one of the trailers last Friday stood a tall man with a familiar face. He wore a Bugs Bunny tie and a gray dress shirt with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Tattoos spilled to his wrists. He spoke kindly to two of his special education students, who called him Mr. Pittsnogle.
On the inside of the door was a sign: “You are who you choose to be.”
For now, this is who Kevin Pittsnogle chooses to be.
Less than four years ago, he was a basketball star and a folk hero, a homegrown kid with a funny name, a bowl haircut, a 6-foot-11 frame covered in tattoos, and a baby-soft 3-point shot. During West Virginia’s unexpected thrill ride to the quarterfinals of the 2005 N.C.A.A. tournament, his name became a taunting verb: you’ve been Pittsnogled. His mother still has a box of the T-shirts in a closet.
Less than three years ago, Pittsnogle was an all-American senior averaging 19.3 points who led West Virginia to the 2006 regional semifinals. He expected to be chosen in the N.B.A draft. He was not.
Now, at 24, he is a middle school teacher in his hometown. He is also an unpaid assistant coach for a high school basketball team. He bowls in leagues three nights a week and occasionally plays bingo at Big Bucks Bingo. His wife, Heather, is a bank teller. They have two children and live in a double-wide trailer, and together they wonder how much appetite they have for uprooting their lives again so Pittsnogle can have one more chance at a basketball career.
His more immediate concern is to graduate special education students into regular classes.
You are who you choose to be.
“I wasn’t supposed to do anything else but basketball, I think, in everybody else’s mind,” Pittsnogle said.
Most students see him mostly as the tall new teacher. Outside of school, though, he signs autographs and draws stares from long distances. Last fall, he attended a West Virginia football game in Morgantown with the Hedgesville High School basketball coach, Kelly Church, who made Pittsnogle an assistant.
“It’s like walking through a mall with Santa Claus a week before Christmas,” Church said.
People approach Pittsnogle because he is both an icon and one of them. They excitedly review his exploits at West Virginia, maybe his 22 points and 8 rebounds in the 2005 tournament against Texas Tech or the 25 points he had in the overtime loss to Louisville in the regional final. They tell him that they wish he were still playing basketball.
“I’ll say, ‘Me, too — sometimes,’ ” Pittsnogle said.
He laughed his good-natured laugh, and sounded like someone who truly was not so sure.
In two years he played for nine teams, in the Continental Basketball Association, the N.B.A.’s development league, the N.B.A.’s summer leagues, in France and in Puerto Rico.
Last summer, he suspended the chase. He just wanted to come home again.
“I thought, I’m done for good,” he said.
Pittsnogle took to living the life he expected and wanted before he shot his way into the national consciousness and the sporting lore of West Virginia, before broader expectations built inside him and were heaped on him by outsiders.
“That Kevin has played a little bit of pro ball and that he is now back here teaching is, I think, a very powerful lesson to our students here,” said Liz Ward, the principal of Martinsburg North Middle School who hired Pittsnogle. “All kids in middle school, and this one is no different, they all think they’re going to be pro ballplayers.”
And if Kevin Pittsnogle — Mr. Pittsnogle — cannot do it, then chances are that they will not, either.
As a player, Pittsnogle is a pure shooter whose body does not match his skills. Kelvin Sampson, then the coach at Oklahoma, once called him a “two-guard who grew to 6-11.” After college, Pittsnogle’s weight grew, too, by about 40 pounds, to 300.
“I kept hearing, ‘You’re overweight,’ ” Pittsnogle said. “ ‘You can average 20 points a game, but we’re not going to bring you up until you lose some weight.’ ”
Instead, he shed the burden of hoop dreams. His circuitous journey, usually with the family in tow (a son, Kwynsie, is nearly 3, and a daughter, Amyyah, was born in May), grew tiresome.
With a physical education degree from West Virginia and a few credits toward a master’s, he approached Ward. Her middle school is across town from where Pittsnogle grew up, but it shares the familiar burdens of high poverty (65 percent of students are eligible for free or reduced school lunches) and broken homes.
“I never had a whole lot of money growing up,” Pittsnogle said. “I wanted to be able to help out the kids that needed help the most.”
In December, while shopping with his mother, he saw Reebok shoes on sale. He bought a pair for each of his students.
“Kevin definitely has a heart for kids,” Ward said.
But something happened on the way back to an ordinary life. Pittsnogle learned last fall that he had a thyroid condition that slowed his metabolism. It helped explain his fluctuating weight, long trending upward.
Medication has helped him lose 25 pounds and re-energize his playing hopes. He is pondering N.B.A. summer leagues, one last time.
“If I look the way I’m supposed to look, and play the way I’m supposed to play, I think I’ll get a chance,” Pittsnogle said. “If not, I’ll come back and live my life here.”
His attitude is dipped in realism. A teacher at his level makes about $25,000. A four-month season in the N.B.A.’s developmental league pays about the same, but would keep hope for an N.B.A. career alive. An offer, though, would force a decision over whether to leave the family behind or have his wife quit her job.
Playing overseas can be far more lucrative but more discombobulating.
“I’m open to anything,” Heather Pittsnogle said, holding 8-month-old Amyyah while speaking Friday night over the din of a high school game between Jefferson and Hedgesville, a rival of Martinsburg High, where Pittsnogle starred. “But I might have to bite my tongue if we go overseas.”
Pittsnogle whispered into the ears of players as they came off the court and cheered good plays. People in the stands occasionally pointed at him.
Long after Hedgesville won, Pittsnogle stood in the gym, dressed in his Bugs Bunny tie and gray dress shirt, rolled to the elbows. On a dare, he grabbed a ball and effortlessly flipped a shot from behind the 3-point arc. It hit the back of the rim.
He asked for the ball again. This time, nothing but net. He shrugged.
Kevin Pittsnogle has chosen who he wants to be. But he wants one more shot at being who he was.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/16/sports/ncaabasketball/16pittsnogle.html?_r=1&ref=sports