Is Wichita State success such a Shocker? In a word, no

Mark Turgeon was putting his team through practice, and I was sitting at a table off to the side of the court, jotting notes, examining the roster, asking questions to a couple of managers in adjacent chairs. This was a few weeks ago, during the second weekend of official workouts, and I watched the Wichita State Shockers run offensive and defensive drills, pass and shoot for a little more than an hour.

Honestly, they didn't look like much.

Mark Turgeon 'has a good program,' because his kids usually stick around for four years. (Getty Images)

The players didn't run particularly fast or jump especially high. In the days prior, I had been to Alabama and Texas, and the contrast in pure physicality was hard to miss. When Jermareo Davidson walks onto a court, it's pretty clear he's going to play in the NBA. When Kevin Durant walks onto a court, same thing. But at Wichita State, no player met the criteria. And so while practice went well, I couldn't help but sit there that Saturday morning somewhat unimpressed.

And then they scrimmaged.

And then it clicked.

First possession, Kyle Wilson came off a screen and buried a 3-pointer. Next possession, P.J. Couisnard got into the lane and whipped a wrap-around pass that resulted in an easy layup. Following possession, Sean Ogirri used a pick, drove toward the rim, then sank a midrange jumper. And suddenly the Shockers looked like the team that advanced to the Sweet 16 last season, like a team that just might do it again come March.

Why?

Because they understand how to play basketball.

It's such a novel concept.

"Our league is about the programs and the coaches," Turgeon said following that practice, and again by phone Monday night after putting his Shockers through their final workout before Tuesday's game with Chicago State. "We have a good program."

The biggest mistake people make when looking at teams like Wichita State is that they focus on the individuals, compare them to other individuals at BCS-affiliated schools and reach the conclusion that the teams can't measure up. People see Connecticut with all its top 20 recruits and future pros, and assume there's no way a school consisting of less-heralded prospects with less natural ability could possibly compete. I mean, to think otherwise would be like thinking Greece could beat an American team with LeBron James and Dwyane Wade.

Oh, wait.

You remember that, right?