The true measure of how far the Colorado State basketball program has fallen is as obvious as Jason Smith. And he’s 7 feet tall, every inch packed with NBA potential, all of it being squandered by the Rams.
When Smith walked into the gym at CSU, it was the luckiest day for hoops at the school in at least 25 years.
The Rams are halfway to wasting their good fortune.
Smith is a sophomore, and way too special to be hanging his head in defeat, as he did Thursday when CSU was soundly beaten 64-52 by San Diego State in the Mountain West Conference Tournament.
Any coach who cannot win this mediocre league with Smith on his team deserves to be fired. The Rams, who inexplicably lost 13 of 18 games against conference opponents this season, are not even on the radar of the NCAA Tournament’s selection committee.
But let boosters with fatter wallets than mine argue the costs of keeping Dale Layer as the CSU coach.
It is the education of Smith that concerns me. And I fear his sincere loyalty to CSU could cost him millions.
From veterinary medicine to business management, a degree from Colorado State is worth its weight in gold.
The Rams, however, stink at teaching basketball.
I wonder what Smith is learning at CSU other than how to lose.
“Setbacks are part of the game,” Smith said. “Sometimes, you win. Sometimes, you don’t.”
Having seen big NBA star Dirk Nowitzki and huge Nuggets draft bust Nikoloz Tskitishvili up close and personal, there’s your range of potential for Smith.
I’m not saying John Wooden could give Smith the lessons that would guarantee a future as a franchise player in the pros. But it seems to me that Layer is teaching a prospect with giant upside how to disappear.
Most big men in the paint move more like Herman Munster than Mikhail Baryshnikov.
Smith is a rare exception to the concrete-sneaker rule.
When Smith dashed the length of the court and launched himself like a rocket to deftly block a layup by all-conference forward Marcus Slaughter of San Diego State, the pro scouts seated in the front row at the Pepsi Center furiously scribbled notes.
Smith’s jump shot is reliable to 15 feet. Extend that range to 20 feet, and he could average 20 points per game in the NBA as a power forward capable of creating nightmarish matchup problems on the run.
Yet the Rams frequently plant him in the post, which makes about as much sense as ordering a thoroughbred to haul the rocks of a pack mule.
Smith is smart enough to realize he isn’t ready to turn pro, saying: “I describe myself as a want-to-be power forward. I need to get a lot bigger to get the power I need.”
As he walked through the door of CSU’s locker room after the season-ending defeat, I asked Smith if it might be prudent to keep on going, and transfer to a school where basketball is treated as serious business.
“CSU was a good decision for me,” said Smith, totally convinced that waiting for next year with the Rams is worth the struggle.
Smith, from the small Colorado town of Kersey, is a big dose of refreshing Americana, his values of loyalty and commitment instilled by parents who both attended CSU.
So he figures: Why would transferring to Kansas or Gonzaga or Arizona even merit consideration, if Colorado State feels like home?
“You’re going to get discovered anywhere you play in Division I, if you’re good,” Smith said.
The sense of place so many of us have forfeited in pursuit of fame or fortune results from it being so much easier to pull up stakes than put down roots. I admire Smith’s tenacity, but worry CSU is failing him.
In the past generation, you can count the truly special basketball players raised in Colorado on one hand.
If the Rams let Smith slip away without fulfilling his potential, it would be enough to ball that hand in a fist of anger.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
