John Chaney not only someone who cared, but someone who loved and inspired us to do the same

Revered over a lifetime in coaching, John Chaney’s example is one to be emulated and followed by everyone in every walk of life. (Photo by Temple University)

By Ray Floriani (@rfloriani)

The news was sudden and shocking. 

John Chaney passed away.

It came in the middle of a Friday, with the mercury significantly below freezing. The brutal weather and even the games on tap for that evening suddenly left the thoughts and concerns of the day. We lost an icon, a man who did so much for so many through a glorious life. 

John Chaney celebrated his 89th birthday eight days ago. On this day, we were dealt a harsh reminder that tomorrow is promised to no one.

Chaney began as a standout player. Back in those days, there were quotas on African-American players in college and the NBA. With no opportunity to play at home in Philadelphia, he went south. His playing career spanned Bethune-Cookman in Florida, then eight seasons professionally in the Eastern League. Chaney entered coaching in 1963, and to little surprise,  worked his way up through the ranks the old-fashioned way. He earned it every step of the way from the school ranks through college. He even played a few seasons in the Eastern League on weekends and coaching at the same time. 

Chaney started his career at Sayre Junior High School before moving onto Simon Gratz High in Philadelphia. He spent nine years in total in those ranks, winning big at both stops before moving on to Cheyney State. Elected to the Big 5, College Basketball and Naismith Memorial Halls of Fame, and a two-time USBWA Coach of the Year (1987 and 1988), he won a national championship at Division II Cheyney State in 1978. But it was at Temple where he did the work he was renowned for.

Chaney arrived at the Broad Street campus in 1982. Prior to his arrival, Temple never went to national tournaments in consecutive years. Under Chaney’s guidance, the Owls made the tournament from 1984 through 1988, then again from 1990 through 2001. Temple was ranked No. 1 in the country in 1988, and seemingly headed to the Final Four before being defeated by Duke in the East Regional final. Chaney made five Elite Eights, but never got to college basketball’s final weekend on the Division I level. 

Chaney was a battler. As a player at the guard spot, he was aggressive. The same could be said for those days on the sidelines. He battled for equal rights, not only for his players, but black coaches as well. He battled for all young people, not just those playing the sport he loved, to have an opportunity, a chance to be better and construct a better life through education. 

The famous or infamous choking incident involving John Calipari epitomized, in many circles, Chaney the battler. The incident happened in 1994. Not too long after, Calipari and Chaney mended their ways, and even joked about it at the NABC Coaches’ Convention during the 1996 Final Four. 

Chaney preached the 2-3 zone defense. Critics say zones are passive. Not the way Chaney ran them. He was legendary for his pre-dawn practices, getting the workout in before class, plus making sure your players are not out late at night. On offense, a turnover might affect the venerable coach like fingernails screeching on a chalkboard.

Mike Vreeswyk played for Chaney in the late 1980s. Vreeswyk, a deadly shooter, was in the backcourt and would recall the wrath incurred for committing a careless turnover, not just with a 20-point lead, but even in practice. 

Those who played for him or spent time in his program praised him, as did the opposition. One of those on the other bench, Shay Berry, was an assistant to Bob Hill at Fordham. Berry remembered on social media how gracious Chaney was when this young assistant sought advice. 

“His words were gold,” Berry recalled. 

When Chaney coached at Cheyney, the women’s coach was C. Vivian Stringer. The two would share ideas on the game on a frequent basis. During semester breaks when the team was on campus, it was not uncommon for Chaney and Stringer to cook breakfast for the team members. Stringer credited a great deal of her success on the sidelines to Chaney. The two kept in close touch to exchange thoughts and ideas on the game after he went to Temple and Stringer left for Iowa, and eventually Rutgers.

Late January 1983 called for a Palestra doubleheader, the first game seeing Villanova defeat Syracuse in a Big East battle. A percentage of the crowd exited after the first game. I moved from the press table to behind the Temple bench for game two with the Owls facing Rutgers, my first chance to see and cover a Chaney-coached team in person. The visiting Scarlet Knights were the better team on paper, as Temple was riddled with injuries. Regardless, Chaney competed with a will to win. Make a mistake, and you heard it on the bench. To Chaney, you were there to compete and win, injuries or standings be damned. Temple lost that day, 70-68, but one could not help but think the program was headed for better days.

Temple avenged that loss defeating Rutgers, a team that swept them in the regular season, in the Atlantic 10 semifinals. The Owls lost to West Virginia in the championship to close out Chaney’s only sub-.500 (14-15) campaign at the school.

Chaney was entertaining with the media. His press conferences could be classic. One of the things he loved about visiting Fordham was the postgame deli spread. Ever the connoisseur, Chaney would grab a sandwich loaded with pickles and address the media. It was during one of those pressers he discussed one of his big men’s ill-fated shot selection. 

“Coach, I’m open from the outside,” the player would tell Chaney. 

“There’s a reason you’re open,” Chaney replied. “Because, God dammit, they know you can’t shoot the damn ball!” Very simple practical basketball, the kind you expected from his teams: Tough defense, care of the ball on offense. Those words of basketball wisdom encompassed Basketball 101 for a purist.

Chaney at times would even discuss the finer points of cooking and where to purchase the best ingredients in his native Philadelphia. At one A-10 tournament at The Palestra, yours truly and the coach engaged in some casual conversation between games. Yours truly remarked how Philadelphia soft pretzels (a personal favorite) are a delicacy. Coach Chaney proceeded for about 20 minutes to tell me the reasons why I was right and how they are made so special. Classic Coach Chaney.

The classic image stays in the mind’s eye: Chaney on the bench studying the action, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up halfway and an occasional jump out of his seat if one of his players did something like throw the ball out of bounds. The feeling here was the hope Chaney would never retire. Unfortunately, all things must come to an end, and he did step down in March of 2006. Chaney was replaced by Fran Dunphy, another outstanding coach and City of Brotherly Love personality who reveres the man he replaced.

The accolades, victories, awards, praise all added up. To John Chaney, the main thing beyond it all, was simply caring. He told The Athletic two years ago he wanted to be remembered as “someone who cared,” not only for his players and coaches trying to get a fair deal and progress, but Chaney wanted to be known as one who cared for all and a fair opportunity for all, regardless if they ever picked up a basketball. 

All afternoon the anecdotes, tributes and thank-yous came pouring in through social media. They will continue to do so, rightfully so, as coach Chaney touched so many lives. He was a great coach. More importantly, he was an outstanding teacher. His classroom was 94’ by 50’, where he could instruct defensive slides in the 2-3 zone while incorporating invaluable life lessons. Those lessons left all in his charge very grateful. 

John Chaney has passed on, but his legacy and the lessons remain, always valued and never forgotten.