Burbank coach is one of a kind, a 500-game winner, and ‘a good kind of crazy’
Lindsey Ferrell is in his element in a gym, a whistle in one hand, a ball in the other.
Sometimes those hands are hurriedly slapped onto his head, all the better to frame his expression of angst: “That’s not a good pass, man!”
Ferrell is the boys basketball coach at Burbank High School. He is the one decked in a Columbia blue Titans top in practice, a man in perpetual motion, sweat coming off his chin at a slow drip. And he’s the one nattily dressed on game night, white shirt and tie, always moving, gesturing, imploring effort, the sweat forever in trickle mode.
Ferrell has accumulated 500 victories over two 13-year stints with the Titans girls and the boys. That’s some feat for a fellow who never anticipated coaching as a teenager in Del Paso Heights.
“I was lucky,” Ferrell said. “I found my calling as a teacher and coach.”
Ferrell coaches his players hard, often with wide-eyed excitement, big on fundamentals. He loves them up just the same.
“When I was in the eighth grade, I knew that I wanted to play for Coach Ferrell,” said Burbank junior guard Kyrie Dunn, averaging 14.6 points and 6.1 rebounds this year. “I knew he was crazy — look at him! — but he’s a good kind of crazy. We love him here. We’re proud to play for him.”
Tyree Gill is the team’s top scorer and one of the region’s top talents, a 6-foot-3 guard averaging 19.6 points and 8.0 rebounds. He has eclipsed the 1,000-career mark in scoring and aspires to play in college and beyond. But it goes beyond statistics and winning streaks here, Gill said.
“Coach pushes us and he cares about us and we appreciate him,” Gill said. “He teaches us about life. We listen. For him to get 500 wins, that’s a lot. We want more.”
Ferrell’s message of effort and teamwork have taken hold. Ranked sixth by The Bee, Burbank is 17-6 and in a Metro League championship chase with No. 8 Grant. The teams play Friday night on 3500 Florin Road. That’s what players and coaches have for decades have identified their campus, which opened in 1962.
Ferrell isn’t easy to play for. He said one must be mentally tough, because “I’m going to push our player to be better than they think they are.” He reminds that it means something to be part of a team and a school, to compete in front of family and friends. So act the part.
“A lot of people are watching,” Ferrell said. “So do it right.”
Life lessons in Grant games
Any game against Grant is special for Ferrell. He graduated from the school in 1979.
Like Grant and any city school across the land, Burbank students are drawn to athletics for a positive outlet. Too many of Ferrell’s players over the years grew up without a father, so he became a father figure for them. Too many students could tell you about gunfire, hell and chaos that lurks just down the block.
“In this gym, right here, this is a safe haven,” Ferrell said last week during a practice. “We can be together, get things done.”
Grant coach Deonard Wilson is a friend of Ferrell’s. He can relate to these challenges. Kids need these coaches as much as the coaches need them.
“Lindsey is not just a Grant alum, he’s a Pacer for Life, and there is a difference,” Wilson said. “Grant and Burbank are rivals but Lindsey and I are more like brothers playing in the back yard.”
The coaching pals talk weekly. Wilson marvels at what Ferrell has done.
“Five hundred wins is a hell of an accomplishment, just special,” Wilson said. “I love that guy.”
A teacher at heart
Basketball instruction is an extension of the classroom, Ferrell said. He relishes the role of being a special education instructor on campus, and then basketball mentor. He barks instruction on defensive traps, pats a player on the back for a job well done, then barks some more. .
“In basketball, you can learn about leadership, character, work ethic, how to win, how to handle defeat,” Ferrell said. “And be a good student. That’s important. You have to have good grades because your AAU coach won’t get a scholarship for you.”
To get the full Lindsey treatment is a mixed bag, players say. The listen, they absorb, and they also tease.
“Oh, we tease him with how he coaches,” Dunn said. “It’s like he’s dancing when he coaches, hands all over. We mock him because we love him.”
Can’t save them all
Ferrell aims to help all of his players, to infuse hope. In Terryon Berry, Ferrell a year ago saw a lanky and athletic 6-foot-4 post who lacked confidence.
“I challenged him to get better, to work,” Ferrell said. “He didn’t play much at all. I told him that for this season, I can’t have a 6-4 guy on the bench. Then he worked. Every day from April to August, we came into this gym, and he put the work in. Now he gives us eight points and nine rebounds a game, and he’s a captain. Dudes like him are why we do this.”
Coaches like Ferrell are why dudes like Berry stick with it.
“I wanted to be better, to make an impact in games,” Berry said. “I was so nervous last year in games. I’ve come a long way.”
Berry is a 3.3-GPA student who wants to study business administration in college.
”I want to run a construction company,” Berry said. “I’m not afraid to work.”
Ferrell can help some, but he can’t save them all. It pains him that he can’t. One of his best players was Mitchell Love, a tough-minded guard, a 2012 graduate who played at Cosumnes River College. Love wanted to get into coaching and was working with Ferrell last season in practices.
Then the crushing news.
“Suicide,” Ferrell said. “Lost him to suicide. Just can’t believe it. Didn’t see it coming. Had no idea, and this one really hurts. I tell our guys, ‘If there’s anything bothering you — anything at school or at home — you talk about it. Talk to me. Talk to someone. It’s never too late.”
Ferrell is just the fifth boys varsity coach in the 57-year history of the school. He has no visions of stepping down. He was mentored by John Copeland, the beloved Titans teacher and coach in the 1980s and early 90s now golfing regularly in retirement in Florida. Ferrell used to coach to the point of exhaustion. It concerned his wife, Zena, and his physician.
“I found out a few years ago that I had a heart murmur,” Ferrell said. “My doctor told me to tone it down. I try. I’ve mellowed. I think.”
Ferrell then laughed. Asking Ferrell to tone it down is like suggesting Bobby Knight coach with a smile. Ferrell said his wife Zena keeps him grounded. They have been together 20 years, married for 14. And they smile a lot.
“You have to have that support to make coaching work,” Ferrell said. “And it works. I’m a lucky man.”