‘Custodian’ Orris Looking to Add Title to Tradition

Paul Orris stands on the Corona del Mar High School basketball court as a man would on an especially bumpy boat ride. Feet apart, knees bent, weight centered just so. Judging from his posture, he could be riding out a small earthquake or the thunderous rumble of a passing train.

It is a curious stance, considering the solid ground on which Orris has stood over the last seven years. Corona del Mar had its problems in the past--lack of height, talent, etc.--but stability has remained a constant. At times, the program seems as steady as a sunrise.

“Slow down! Slow down!” Orris shouted as his players practiced a new defense this week. “You’ve got to show some patience!”

If anyone has shown patience, it is Orris, a 45-year-old math teacher who came to Corona del Mar 23 years ago without a day of coaching experience. He worked as a lower-level coach and a varsity assistant for 16 years before taking over for the late, legendary Jack Errion in 1986. Errion, and Tandy Gillis before him, taught Orris everything he needed to know. They instilled in him a passion for intense pressure defense, that maniacal man-to-man now synonymous with Corona del Mar.

Orris likes to refer to himself as a “custodian” of the Corona del Mar tradition, a guy who has simply maintained what others have created. But replacing Errion couldn’t have been so easy. Errion was 199-60 in his 10 years at Corona del Mar, winning Southern Section titles in 1977 and 1981. He had 36 years of varsity head coaching experience. Orris had none.

When Orris took over, he was met by considerable doubt. Some wondered about his ability to lead, to take control, to be the head coach he had to be. Sure, he was a tough math teacher who never let students slide. But what about on-court respect? After all, this was the same man some students called “Baby Huey” (though never to his face). A coach nicknamed after a big cartoon duck? It would never work, said some.

They were wrong, of course. Orris led the Sea Kings to the section semifinals in his first season. In seven years, he has coached Corona del Mar to three section championship games, including tonight’s Division IV-AA final against St. Bernard. He has come into his own, and then some.

Orris, a sharp man with a wry sense of humor, will suggest that the coaching part of it was easy. All he has done, he’ll say, is what Errion and Gillis taught him to do: stress defense, defense, defense. It’s basic connect-the-dot coaching. Link it together and you’ve created a picture of success.

But the truth is, this season was different. Corona del Mar didn’t have a 20-point-per-game scorer; it had a rag-tag bunch of players who varied in ability. The ability to play man defense was there, as it always is. But that slow, position-oriented Corona del Mar offense of yesteryear was suddenly as outdated as the eight-track tape. Orris recognized last summer this was a team made for motion. He decided to go with the flow--specifically a high post, motion offense.

“All summer people kept asking, ‘Are you going to stay with this or are you going to bail out?’ ” Orris says. “It’s true I like to do things one way--or I have in the past. But you’ve got to be smart enough to be flexible.”

His players certainly aren’t complaining. This was a run-and-gun team from the start, point guard Todd Merriman says. When they were freshmen, these players covered the court like cheetahs--and went 22-3. Now that they’ve worked out the kinks, they’re ready to run to a championship. The school’s athletic program has 45 State and Southern Section banners hanging in its gym--the Sea Kings don’t waste wall space on measly league titles--and the basketball team wants banner No. 3.

As does Orris. He may be one of the more humble coaches in the county--he says he has no designs on the college ranks--but he dearly wants a championship to call his own. Twenty-three years ago, he never thought of such a thing. Of course, 23 years ago, it was still a big deal to see a Mercedes-Benz in Newport Beach. The Hard Rock Cafe in Fashion Island was the J.C. Penney Auto Center. The hills were covered with rabbit holes, not million-dollar homes. Things change, most definitely.

“A CIF title?” Orris says hopefully. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

Nice enough, no doubt, to knock him off his feet.

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