ON THE PREP PATH : He Carries Intensity to Extremes

Pity the dress shoes worn by Western basketball Coach Greg Hoffman. His soles are going to Hush Puppie hell.

Bashed against bleachers, scuffed and stomped, Hoffman’s loafers--much like his players--bear the brunt of his rages when things don’t go the way he wants on the court.

It doesn’t matter that Western is 10-1. Hoffman is doing all he can to keep complacency from creeping in. If that means slapping the court with his hands, kicking the bench or breaking a chair, so be it.

Hoffman has a propensity for intensity like few others.

In his eight years at Western, Hoffman has garnered quite a record--not necessarily of wins and loses, but for his antics. Although the last four seasons brought a combined record of 54-19, the early years were mediocre.

And Hoffman hates mediocrity.

Sometimes, after particularly poorly played games, Hoffman would go home, pull the pillows and covers over his head, and shake. But that was nothing compared to what he did on the court.

Hoffman has a habit of slapping the floor. Once, his watch flew off and a timeout had to be called so he could retrieve it. Another time, he cracked his gold wedding band.

“I’m sure I’ll have stress fractures in my hand some day,” he said.

Or worse. When two players were late to the bus, Hoffman hit a seat, breaking his hand. His hands have met similar fates with locker room mirrors and sideline chairs. Magnolia High School has lost two chairs to Hoffman’s fits.

“They have weak chairs though,” he said. “I used to get technicals all the time, but it’s been a whole year now. A lot of that has to do with how well we’re playing now. It used to be like, ‘Let’s go watch Greg get ejected.’ There was always a chance Greg was going to go, that Greg was going to lose it.”

He’s been ejected twice while at Western, a statistic of which he is somewhat proud. Not for the ejections, but because he didn’t lose his job over them.

Hoffman says he doesn’t mean to go nuts, he just wants to motivate his players. And his players are no doubt among the most motivated in the county.

“I don’t want a kid ever to come back and say ‘Hey, if you had been tougher on me I could’ve been a better player,’ ” Hoffman said. “I’m very hard on my kids, very demanding. It takes a special kid to play for me. . . . I couldn’t play for me.”

Team captain Tom Barraza agrees.

“He couldn’t play for himself,” Barraza said. “He’s the type who would rather run his head into a stone than go around it. He does things his way.”

And his way--including team rules such as sweaters and ties on game days and buzzed haircuts at start of the season--is OK with the players. Many say Hoffman has changed their lives.

A divorced father of one, Hoffman, 35, teaches special education at Western, working with the learning impaired. Saturdays, he takes the team and his 5-year-old son, Tyler, out to breakfast. Off the court, players say they see a completely different person.

“He’s really an average guy--I shouldn’t say average, he’ll get mad at me,” Barraza said. “But there’s a lot of humanitarianism in him. You know, that ‘Walk the little old lady across the street’ stuff.”

Two years ago during the Katella tournament, a player’s father had a massive heart attack the night before Western’s game. The man was close to the team, and Hoffman and the players cried and hugged before taking the court.

The player, John Armenta, came to the gym from the hospital, dressed and played the game of his life. Telling the story before a Katella tournament game last week, tears welled in Hoffman’s eyes.

“This group . . . they’ve been through . . . a lot,” he said quietly. “I’m very proud of them.”

Later that night against Katella, Hoffman was quiet, at least by his standards. Hoffman said it was because he was playing against Katella Coach Tom Danley, whom Hoffman assisted for two years.

“I respect Tom Danley more than any coach in the county,” Hoffman said. “Most of the time I lose my head and make a fool of myself. But I wasn’t going to do that in the Katella gym.”

Perhaps he ought to schedule Katella more often.

If Danley is Hoffman’s inspiration, becoming Indiana Coach Bobby Knight is his lifetime goal. Just mentioning the name puts Hoffman in a trance. He looks you in the eye and says solemnly:

“I love Bobby Knight.”

Hoffman has a photo of Knight in his classroom, a closet full of Indiana sweat shirts and days’ worth of Knight videotape. He says the attraction is in Knight’s coaching philosophies and knowledge of the game. Hoffman’s players describe it as an obsession.

“God, it’s like having Bobby Knight for a coach sometimes,” Barraza said. “If there’s a picture of Bobby Knight he takes it. If there’s an article about him he reads it. Once I told him he sort of looked like Bobby Knight and he said, ‘Thank you.’ ”

The players are trying to figure a way for Hoffman to meet Knight. They realize the chances are slim, but they’re hoping to bring him to the team’s post-season banquet. They know it would bring about their ultimate aim: to make Hoffman so emotional he’ll cry.

If that fails, they have a second gift idea. A plaque in the Western gym reads: “It’s not the size of your body, it’s the size of your heart that counts.” They’ll put the slogan on a banner and present it to Hoffman.

“I think that will get to him,” Barraza said.

And so the tables will be turned.

Barbie Ludovise’s column appears twice a week. Readers may reach Ludovise by writing her at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, 92626 or calling (714) 966-5847.