Its not easy being a center for Bill Self.
He feels decidedly biblical about post play.
"In the beginning was the post man..."--Basketball Genesis 1: 1
Its such a big job that a Selfian jargon has emerged to describe what all has to be done.
One has to be able to stay on spots, have a motor, be able to finish, board, guard the post, body opponents, hedge defend, and kick out, all while manning-up and playing through.
This special jargon also extends to what bigs are NOT to do and be.
They are NOT to play like a bunch of babies.
They are NOT to play like KU may once have played against Topeka YMCA.
They are above all NOT to play soft!
Commit any sin, or omit any virtue, and Self is fairly New Testament...for awhile. If you guard hard, he forgives some learning errors, and teaches. He tries this approach and that approach. He speaks parables in fractured syntax with an Okie accent. He talks of getting better and expects small miracles. He greets some coming back to the bench with love, and others with hell fire.
But lose Self's trust, or fail to complement another post man, or fail to give the team what it needs, and lord have mercy and some de-icing fluid for the post man's frozen soul.
Self's hell for bad play is a fiery hot one where he can get up and close and personal as he screams red faced at the player he thinks might help the team reach its potential.
But Self has a separate hell for those he cannot find a way to weave into the team's future, or that he has lost trust in. It is a hell of cold and ice. It is a cryogenic experience at the end of the bench.
It is where two centers now find themselves: Dwight Coleby and Mitch Lightfoot.
Until this season, centers were in one hell, or the other, other.
But this season Self has added a third hell; this one with a rheostat allowing him to set the temperature to cool--chill if you will.
Carlton Bragg, the player Self once said would in time be an exceptional player, is the recipient of this new level of Self-hell.
Bragg's minutes appear to be dwindling.
He is the second string center on a team that plays one post man.
He plays, but you never know when, or how much.
He doesn't play much against teams that go small, because he is not quite agile enough to chase 6-7 inch guys.
He doesn't play much against teams with big, strong centers, because though he has put on about 40 pounds since the skinny days of last season, he is not quite strong enough to go at it with the prison bodies.
This means Carlton Bragg is left to play long skinny centers.
Yet Bragg has not played particularly well yet.
And when a player has not yet played particularly well and the calendar reads second week of January, Self tends to lose a little faith.
Self has not yet flooded Bragg's pod with cry-fluid and turned the rheostat to "freeze."
Let's just say that he has run a couple inches in the bottom of the pod and turned it to chill in case he decides to go ahead and ice him.
Hang in there, Carlton.
As the Beatles once sang...
"I've got to admit its getting better
A little better, all the time,
(It can't get no worse.)..."
But of course it can get worse.
Just ask Lightfoot and Coleby.
But the important thing is: it can get better, too.
Look at Landen.
Carlton, its time to start doing all the things post men are supposed to do for Bill.
You won't like the Cryo-ice.