Here's a topic we don't talk about enough in sports: Work.
Good, hard, behind-the-scenes work.
Tyler Johnson, for instance, became an NBA player by dedicating himself to how he wasn't good enough.
"I couldn't pass the ball with my right hand, for instance," the left-handed Johnson recalls.
A small thing. A detail. No one gets on ESPN for passing the ball with their right hand, right? They do for scoring 19 points, like Johnson did last Thursday night against Sacramento. They do for a jaw-dropping dunk like Johnson has at times.
But try to play point guard in the NBA, like the Heat wanted him to do, without passing with your right hand.
"I never had to do that before," says Johnson, who was a shooting guard at Fresno State.
So before Heat games he often didn't play in last season, Johnson would pass 100 times with his right hand. And at practices between those games he did it more. And when he was sent to the Heat's Development League team in Sioux Falls, he worked on it some more.
He worked equally hard on his shot. And his ball-handling. And ...
"I bet he was working out with weights at 6 o'clock in the morning, too," says Fresno State's Rodney Terry, who coached Johnson for three years. "That's what he did with the strength coach here. He knew to compete he had to work on his body. So he worked on it."
Chasing a dream often isn't about magic or destiny. It's about simple, sweaty work. And dedication.
"I'll tell you a story," Terry says.
Upon Terry's arrival at Fresno State, Johnson was a sophomore who barely played as a freshman. One of the first drills was to have two players chase after a loose ball -- the new coach wanted to see who was who and, yeah, weed out the weaklings.
Johnson and another player dove after a ball. The other player's head collided with Johnson's mouth. Two of Johnson's front teeth fell out on the court. He picked them up, handed them to a trainer and returned to the drill.
"I said right then, 'This dude's got a chance,' " Terry says. "And by the end of his time here, he was the embodiment of our program. His legacy here was his work ethic, to the point (that) in the first meeting in the year after he left, I asked, 'Who's going to work like Tyler Johnson?' "
Does this help you see what the Heat has? Does it help explain how Johnson went from undrafted guard to unexpected surprise?
Tuesday night, after shooting 1-for-6 in a loss against Minnesota, Johnson stayed in the gym and shot until midnight. That was just to work out his frustration -- "so I didn't take it home with me," as Johnson says.
But Johnson is known for staying long after everyone has left. In college, after walk-through practices the night before a game, he'd stay and shoot for two hours alone, Terry says.
With the Heat, he's known to return to the gym the night after a practice and shoot. "Peaceful," he calls such outings.
"He's one of those guys you have to monitor (to make sure) he doesn't do too much," Heat coach Erik Spoelstra says. "He'll shoot for six hours if you don't watch him."
Johnson brings an attacking, athletic perimeter game. Plus, on a team that ranks near the bottom of the league in 3-point shooting, his 52.9 percent is a blessing. The sample size isn't much, as he's just 9-for-19 from beyond the arc, so the question is whether that's sustainable.
"I shot 45 percent in the D-League, 40 percent college," Johnson says. "So I think that's something I can do."
Johnson says that when he was sent down last year, the idea was to develop his point-guard skills. Run an offense. Get players in proper positions. And, yeah, pass with his right hand.
Now that he's playing regular role, here's the question Johnson gets these days: Are you surprised by your progress?
"I'm in the gym, I can see and feel myself getting better, little by little," he says. "It's different, because I haven't done it at this level consistently. But it's not necessarily a surprise."
He still hasn't done it at this level enough. One month isn't one year. But it's a start. And, as he says, "I'm not where I want to be, and I only know one way to get there."
Work?
"That's it," he says.
About the Author
