Making A Statement

When I was an English major at Cornell, one of my Narrative Writing professors was a man named Dan McCall. You probably never heard of him, but you know his work. He wrote a novel called "Jack The Bear" that was made into a 1993 movie starring Danny DeVito.

Anyway, Professor McCall was one of the single most influential teachers I ever had, and one of his mantras in class was something along the lines of "get to the point." He was not one for lyrical hyperbole; "Jack The Bear," a terrific book, was all of 150 pages. His style was direct and simple. He got to the point, but in order to do so, he had to consider every word very carefully.

Which brings me to the following statement issued by the Orlando Magic on Wednesday night:

"As our signing of Billy Donovan showed, we are committed to winning a championship. We have the legal right to hold Billy to the contract he signed, but with him having a change of heart about leaving college basketball, we want him at the University of Florida. We have granted him permission to break his commitment and return to the Gators."

That's it. Sixty-one words. Donovan, on the other hand, issued a statement that was more than twice as long. He can be forgiven: first, he's a coach, and they all speak in paragraphs. Second, he felt the need to apologize, which always takes a little longer.

Drawing on the lessons learned in the hot, creaky classrooms of the Cornell English department, let's break down the Magic's statement.

"As our signing of Billy Donovan showed, we are committed to winning a championship."

The placement of that statement as the opening line of the paragraph indicates the weight that the Magic have assigned to it. The message is clear: "if you remember nothing else about this entire debacle, remember that we got him, dammit. We chased the hottest coach in America, and he said 'yes.' We didn't come here to paint, we came here to win. Now get off our backs about Jeryl Sasser and the whole John Weisbrod thing."

"We have the legal right to hold Billy to the contract he signed..."

Yes, they do, and they'd like to remind Gator Nation and the national media of that fact, just to reinforce the point that Donovan not only accepted the offer, he placed his name on the dotted line. It subtly shifts the responsibility for all of this to Donovan without overtly tossing him under the bus, for reasons we'll get to in a moment. Calling him "Billy" as opposed to "Coach Donovan" or "Mr. Donovan" softens the blow, however. It indicates that the two sides got to know each other. It's very Kumbaya. He's our friend "Billy."

"...but with him having a change of heart about leaving college basketball, we want him at the University of Florida."

This, to me, is the home run statement within the statement. First, we reinforce the notion that this was all Billy's doing, while simultaneously assuring Magic fans that it wasn't a case of Donovan wanting OUT of the Magic job, but back IN to college basketball. The Magic attack the notion that the organization's perceived dysfunction played any role at all -- going after the critics who love to hammer that point -- by pushing the conversation towards Donovan's desire to stay in the college game. And once they did that, they admitted that they agreed with his decision: "we want him at the University of Florida."

Sure they do. Lots of UF alums buy Magic tickets. If Gator fans are happy with the way the Magic treated Billy, they might become Magic fans. As I told Frank Frangie on his radio show in Jacksonville last week, the Magic cannot be the bad guy in this deal. Not when dealing with the coach at Florida. If Donovan was coming from an out-of-state program, the Magic may have been more inclined to hold his feet to the fire. But it's Orlando, and it's Florida (the school and the state), and as I predicted on the air, the Magic are taking the high road. They have no other option, not when they're trying to erase a decade of bad PR and keep ticket-buying Gator fans on their side. Sure, they had the "legal right" to make a stink, but doing so would have been public relations suicide in these parts, and they knew it. An utterly perfect sentence within the statement.

"We have granted him permission to break his commitment and return to the Gators."

The clincher. Remind the world that we (the Magic) held all the cards here, as Donovan had signed the contract. The team had the leverage, but "granted him permission" to go. No, wait, not "go" -- rather, "break his commitment." Perhaps a final, subtle shot at Donovan for skipping out, but better yet, one more reminder that his name was on the freaking contract. And finally, "return to the Gators." Not "return to college basketball" -- where his heart lies, according to the sentence that came before this one -- but "to the Gators." Throw the team name in there one more time to assuage the Nation, while hinting that were it not Florida, the Magic could have been far nastier and more difficult. "We're not letting him out to go coach at Kentucky. We're letting him out to go back and coach the Gators. Remember that. You're welcome. In case anyone is curious, season tickets are now available. And seriously, get off our backs about the 'Curse of Shaq' and the whole Tracy McGrady thing."

Sixty-one words. A world of meaning. This is one hell of a statement. In all seriousness, hats off to Joel Glass and the rest of the Magic communications department, and anyone else in that office who contributed to the writing. As a man well-trained in critical writing, I am very much impressed. Professor McCall is more of a baseball guy, but he'd be impressed as well.

Now, about the next head coach...