Like many of the high school basketball players I've coached over the last 17 years, Drew is as enjoyable a kid as I've ever been around. He's smart, athletic, and has a terrific work ethic. He's a player who's always eager to learn and improve; who doesn't shy away from criticism or pout when receiving a tongue lashing for not playing up to his physical and mental capabilities. That Drew is also a lacrosse player, and from all reports a stud of a player, automatically solidifies him as someone worthy of my extra attention.
Drew's not loquacious by any means. If anything, he's more on the shy side, which may seemingly clash up against his athletic 6'5” frame. Physically he's got an uncanny look and build similar to center Rony Seikaly of old Syracuse fame, masking a personality likened more to genius nerd Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. But when Drew does open his mouth, his words usually blend a unique mix of self-deprecation, unpredictability, and subtle sarcasm, like there's a good chance he's only a fraternity pledge away from turning into a John Belushi from Animal House.
But like nearly every high schooler I've coached on the basketball court, Drew drives me nuts on almost a daily basis. He has made an art form out of being consistently inconsistent. One day he'll pull down rebounds like Dwight Howard and on the next day like Howard the Duck. On Monday he'll finish shots going to his right and his left, high side and baseline, and on Tuesday he'll throw up more bricks than a masonry worker on any given day. And his free throw shooting is no different.
