Up Three, Under Seven; The most hotly debated endgame scenario (An article featuring DePauw head coach Bill Fenlon)

Up Three, Under Seven; The most hotly debated endgame scenario (An article featuring DePauw head coach Bill Fenlon)

(A feature article from Sports Illustrated - written by Luke Winn)

INDIANAPOLIS, Ind.
- Ronald Nored was at the line, and the odds were not in his favor. His season free-throw percentage, 61.2, was the worst of anyone's on the floor. The score was Butler 50, Michigan State 49. The statistical likelihood of him making both free throws and putting his Bulldogs in a safer position, up three with 6.1 seconds left, was 37.5 percent. But there were other factors: the pressure of it being the biggest game of his life, in the Final Four; the bad shooting backdrop at Lucas Oil Stadium, which was built for football; the fact that he was just 3-of-12 from the stripe in the NCAA tournament. The odds might have actually been worse.

Nored proceeded to defy them. He breathed, exhaled demonstratively, dribbled thrice, flexed his knees, shot the free throw, and sank it -- and then repeated, giving Butler a 52-49 lead. It was a reminder that in an endgame drama, odds are just odds, not a guarantee of an outcome.

"Now," CBS' Clark Kellogg began to say after the second make, "you think about fouling here if you're Butler."

Bulldogs head coach Brad Stevens had already thought about it and given out strategic orders in the huddle that preceded Nored's trip to the foul line. Butler knew what it wanted to do.

In the sea of end zone seats behind Michigan State's basket was someone more adamant than Kellogg about what Butler should do. Bill Fenlon, the head coach of Division III DePauw, was sitting what felt like a mile away from the court -- probably farther away than was appropriate for someone who counted Stevens as a former player and Bulldogs assistant Micah Shrewsberry as a former assistant. But Fenlon had deliberately refrained from groveling for tickets that week. He knew his former acolytes' lives were already at an unprecedented level of craziness, so he took his National Association of Basketball Coaches-issued tickets and their bad vantage point. His view had no effect on his degree of certainty.

This is the perfect situation, he thought. This was his pet situation. He'd written a paper about it. He'd given the paper to Stevens years ago. In Fenlon's circle of coaching friends he was the Evangelist of Fouling Up-Three Under Seven Seconds. He hoped Stevens was on the same wavelength, thinking the same thing: You HAVE to foul here.

Fenlon once commissioned the drawing of mathematical decision trees on the subject, and believes in the following odds:

• A 19 percent chance of getting sent to overtime if you hunker down and play no-fouls defense.

• A 4.9 percent chance of getting sent to overtime if you foul correctly.

• A 0.67 percent chance of going to overtime by accidentally fouling a three-point shooter.

• A 0.13 percent chance of losing in regulation by accidentally fouling the shooter.

• A 0.16 percent chance of losing in regulation off a made first free throw, missed second, offensive rebound and a three.

Fenlon always fouls, because he likes the 1-in-20 odds versus the 1-in-5s.

When Michigan State inbounded the ball with a baseball pass to Raymar Morgan near half court, Butler's intentions became clear. A double-team of Avery Jukes and Willie Veasley converged on Morgan, and they appeared ready to hack. A whistle seemed imminent -- so why then, at this moment, was Fenlon overcome with dread?

Because it's one thing to make conclusions on paper about the favorable odds of fouling, and another thing to put those conclusions to use (for six wins and zero losses) over the past eight seasons of DePauw games. But it's another thing altogether to see those odds tested by one of your former players on a Final Four stage.

Fourteen and a half million were watching this trial on TV, and doubt had entered the equation. Please, Fenlon thought, don't let this be the one time in 20.

Standing in front of the Butler bench, Stevens was having a more acute experience with doubt. He was thinking of his old coach. And wishing he could say to him, "You'd better be right about this."

* * * * * * * *

How long does it take, and how much pain is required, for a coach to consider changing his mind? For Fenlon, what transpired in the DePauw-Trinity game on the night of Feb. 12, 1999, was the breaking point, but his conversion was a seven-year process of overcoming stubbornness and denial.

In 1992, in his second game as head coach at DePauw, the Tigers turned the ball over with 10 seconds left and a three-point lead over Illinois Wesleyan. He had them hunker down and play defense ... and Wesleyan's point guard drilled a 28-foot 3-pointer to tie the score. DePauw lost in overtime. Fenlon excused the defeat as "tough luck."

In 1994, at home against Illinois Wesleyan, DePauw was again up three in the final 10 seconds. Again, Fenlon opted to hunker. The Tigers contested a difficult shot by Wesleyan's future D-III All-American, Bryan Crabtree. It rolled around the rim twice, hit the backboard, and fell through the net. DePauw lost in double overtime. Fenlon excused it by saying, "Great players sometimes make great plays."

At Trinity in '99, Fenlon was faced with the up-three situation for a third time ... and he hunkered for a third time. He was hung up on the nightmare scenario of creating a four-point possession -- and losing -- as a result of fouling. And so he watched Trinity's Ryan Hyslop come off a staggered screen and hit a falling-down three at the buzzer. DePauw lost in overtime. Fenlon had no good excuse.

One of Fenlon's backup guards, senior Brad Stevens, played seven minutes and scored zero points in that game, the fifth-to-last of his career. After graduation he'd leave basketball and take a job analyzing marketing data at pharmaceutical giant Eli Lilly in Indianapolis. Stevens was so savvy with numbers, that a former coaching colleague once called him a "math savant," but he had forgotten his stats from the Trinity game -- perhaps because they were unremarkable, well under his season averages of 5.4 points in 15.2 minutes. He said he remembered one thing: "That was the road trip that started to change [Fenlon's] philosophy."

DePauw men's basketball had no traveling beat writer, so the only recap in the school's online archives is a one-paragraph summary calling the loss a "heartbreaker." A Lexis-Nexis search for "Trinity" and "DePauw" during that week of 1999 yields only two articles. One is from the San Antonio Express-News, which briefly previews the game in a local-college roundup. The other hit is more peculiar, and unrelated to basketball: the New York Times' "Genius or Gibberish? The Strange World of the Math Crank".

The Trinity referenced is the college at Cambridge, England, not San Antonio. But the DePauw is the correct DePauw, from Greencastle, Ind. The article states that a DePauw professor, Underwood Dudley, is the world's foremost expert on Math Cranks -- amateurs who send absurd letters and theories to mathematicians purporting to have discovered "important new truths" in the world of numbers. Dudley acknowledged to the Times that it's hard to pin down exactly what makes a crank a crank, but said, "It's like obscenity -- you can tell a crank when you see one."

* * * * * * * * *

Fenlon left the '98-99 season determined to conduct a mathematical investigation. He wanted to discover the actual odds of hunkering versus fouling when your team is up three and on defense, with seven seconds or fewer left in the game. (Any more time on the clock, and most coaches believe the danger of allowing an extra possession is too great.)

A crank might have conducted the investigation on his own. Fenlon asked for help from one of his team's season-ticket holders, DePauw math professor Mark Kannowski. He created a series of decision trees using probability data Fenlon provided on average three-point and free-throw percentages, as well as estimates for rebounding and turnover percentages, and accidental-foul rates. Fenlon seeing the finished decision trees, Kannowski said, "was what made everything click."

Fenlon included the trees as supporting material for a 2,728-word paper he titled, "Up Three: To Foul Or Not To Foul," at the bottom of which Kannowski is credited for the math and Esquire writer-at-large Tom Chiarella, a visiting professor at DePauw, is thanked for the editing. The paper's conclusion is that coaches should always foul, trusting the aforementioned odds (4.9 percent chance of overtime by fouling, 19 percent chance of overtime by hunkering) and ignoring any other factors.

Fenlon wrote: "It's about the probabilities over the long haul. It's not about the chances in this moment. It's about the chances in this situation every time it occurs. You can't be like the guy at the roulette table who has his money on red, watches black come up six times, changes his bet, and then it comes up red. You can't win that way. You have to be consistent, and you have to know the numbers. A lot in coaching is dictated by your feel, by your gut. This situation is not, it is dictated by the numbers. Take a look at these numbers and I think you will find it very difficult to make a case for not fouling in this situation."

At DePauw, the fouling strategy gains new converts every time Kannowski teaches Computational Discrete Mathematics, or Math 123 in the school's course catalog. The Tigers (according to Fenlon) are 6-0 when fouling up-three, and Kannowski figured the basketball decision-making trees he created would be better teaching material than standard textbook problems. "I've gotten a lot of mileage out of being able to use that example in class," Kannowski said. "Kids will sit up a little bit and say, 'Really?' "

Although Fenlon's may have been the first, other examinations of the college fouling strategy exist in academia. A 2006 study, "Optimal End-Game Strategy in Basketball" by David Annis, then an assistant professor at the Naval Postgraduate School, was inspired by the Michigan State-Gonzaga epic from the 2005 Maui Invitational. The game is mostly remembered as Vintage Adam Morrison; he scored 43 points and the Zags won in triple overtime. But it went to overtime in the first place because the Spartans' Maurice Ager was allowed to sink a 3-pointer at the end of regulation.

The central character in Annis' paper is Gonzaga coach Mark Few, who responded to a question about the hunkering strategy with this postgame quote in the Seattle Times:

"It's not a debate for me ... If the guy [fouled] hits the free throw, they can tip it out and hit a three and you can lose the game. They can score four on you ... I've never, ever fouled, and I've been in that situation a lot of times. I think you've got to make somebody hit a real tough shot. And they did."

Few -- who's hardly alone among D-I coaches in his beliefs -- is the anti-Fenlon. Annis, in his equation-heavy analysis, wryly labels the hunkering strategies "Few" and the fouling strategies "Non-Few." He concludes that while the "Few" approach gives a team an 86.6 percent chance of winning, the "Non-Few" approach has win odds of 95.9 percent, with the chance of losing on a tip-out and a 3-pointer just 0.6 percent -- so remote as to be a non-factor. Annis' study, therefore, thinks fouling offers even more of an advantage than Fenlon's; assuming that each team enters overtime with an equal chance of winning, Fenlon's decision trees would yield win odds of 97.6 percent for the "Non-Few" approach and 90.5 percent for "Few." That's a 7.1 percent split compared to 9.3 in Annis.

There's a chance, however, that actual game data doesn't agree with Fenlon or Annis. On Aug. 24, John Ezekowitz, a Harvard undergrad in the university's Sports Analysis Collective, published a study of what he determined to be the 443 instances from the '09-10 college season in which a team held the ball, trailing by three, in what had a chance to be its last possession of regulation or overtime. Ezekowitz started the project in March, and said it took him 50-60 hours of his spare time to log the possessions, manually, with help from StatSheet.com's close games filter.

He found that in 391 of the 443 instances, the leading team chose not to foul. Only 33 of those teams lost, yielding a win percentage of 91.6 -- about the same as Fenlon's estimate. Teams that fouled, in Ezekowitz's study, were actually worse off. Six of the 52 teams that fouled lost, yielding a win percentage of 88.5. Therefore, Ezekowitz concluded, "Both a two sample t-test of proportion and a Chi-squared test fail to reject the null hypothesis that there is a difference in winning percentage between the two strategies. ... [T]his means that there is no significant difference between the two strategies."

Ezekowitz's study was the first (or at least first known) of its kind for college basketball, and his "no significant difference" finding was quoted in places such as the Wall Street Journal's Web site and ESPN the Magazine. The recognition helped him earn a freelance gig doing statistical analysis for the Phoenix Suns. Some commenters on the Harvard Sports Analysis Collective's post remained unconvinced, raising qualms -- legitimate qualms -- over the fact the study didn't take into account how much time was left on the clock. Its data pool included all possessions that had potential to be a team's last, meaning that some of them might've been in the upper reaches of the 35-second shot clock. That part wasn't really Ezekowitz's fault; play-by-play data isn't available in sufficient detail at all levels of D-I. But it's difficult to make a definitive statement without a time factor. Coaches just aren't comfortable fouling with more than seven seconds left.

When I went to the Harvard Sports Analysis Collective's site in early September to re-read Ezekowitz's post, I noticed that the 19th (and most recent) commenter had volunteered a rebuttal. His comment, in full:

September 1, 2010 at 5:57 pm

Hi-

I wrote an article about the up 3 scenario a few years ago with the help of a math Professor here at DePauw University. I think there are too many things missing here for your findings to be accurate. If you'd like to read my findings send me an email and I'll pass it along.

Bill Fenlon
Head Basketball Coach
DePauw University

I was unaware of Fenlon's interest in the subject until then; curious, I called him in his office at DePauw and had a conversation about his article. "I can just e-mail it to you," he said, "and you can tell me what you think."

The next day, in my inbox, was a message with a Microsoft Word attachment and the subject, "You Gotta Foul!"

* * * * * * * * *

Is Brad Stevens a true believer in fouling? Fenlon can't answer that. "You never know with Brad," Fenlon said. "I'm not sure what he told you about it ... but he's one of those guys who plays everything close to the vest."

Here's what we know: Fenlon's paper was in Stevens' hands before he took over at Butler in 2008. His first encounter with the up-three, under-seven situation was at Valparaiso on Feb. 5 of that season. He ordered the Bulldogs to hunker. Valpo's Brandon McPherson, a 40.9 percent three-point shooter, missed a contested three at the buzzer, and Butler won, 71-68.

One week later -- and nine years to the day after the fateful DePauw-Trinity game -- Stevens was faced with the up-three situation again, this time against Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Again, he told the Bulldogs to play defense. The Panthers' star, Ricky Franklin, hit a three with 0.8 seconds left to send the game into overtime, in which Butler won 83-75. In the Indianapolis Star's game story, Stevens revealed that he had a "list" of scenarios that warranted fouling or not fouling. In the Milwaukee case, he told the Star he was worried Panthers power forward Marcus Skinner would rebound a missed free throw and score on a put-back.

But when discussing it 2 1/2 years later, Stevens suggests not fouling Franklin was a mistake. "It was just a bad move on my part," he said, mostly because his guards weren't tall enough to bother Franklin's shot. He is what amounts to a Situationalist -- "I think you have to take everything into account" -- but his lens is evolving. Coaches in this result-driven business tend to acquire their stance on fouling through experience. What they've been told is secondary to what's happened to them, or what they've seen happen to their peers.

Stevens and I were both in Salt Lake City on March 25 to witness the Kansas State-Xavier double-overtime epic, in which the Wildcats tried to foul, up three, in the final seconds of regulation, and accidentally fouled the Musketeers' Terrell Holloway in the act of shooting. Fenlon estimates this sort of accident will happen only 2 percent of the time. I asked Stevens whether he thought that number was low; it seemed low to me. "Offenses get more prepared for [the foul] the more they expect it," he said. "So that number is going to change over time."

Stevens was left on the sideline, on April 4, to consider all of those things: the odds, the personnel, and what Michigan State was expecting. His starting big man, Matt Howard, had already fouled out, and his two-guard, Shelvin Mack, was on the bench with an injury, so Butler's defense wasn't at full strength. The Spartans had three dangerous long-range shooters on the floor in Durrell Summers, Chris Allen and Korie Lucious. Gordon Hayward, Butler's best defensive rebounder -- with a vertical that allowed him to get up to 11 feet and clean the glass -- was also on the floor. The numbers in Stevens' head were tilting in favor of the foul.

And that's what Butler did. While Jukes and Veasley failed to draw a whistle with their double-team on Morgan, generating some undesired tension, Bulldogs guard Shawn Vanzant was able to corral Lucious deep on the left wing before he could get in the act of shooting. Only 2.1 seconds remained in the game, eliminating any chance of another Michigan State possession. Everything would come down to the free throws.

Lucious made the first. In the Fenlon model, this increased the chances of overtime from 4.9 percent to 7.5 percent, and the chances of Butler losing on a rebound-and-three combo from 0.16 percent to 0.19 percent.

As planned, Lucious missed the second. This only slightly increased the chances of overtime on the Fenlon tree, because his estimate was that a player could successfully miss 98 percent of the time. The key was the rebound: Given Butler's 4-to-2 man advantage in the lane, the odds of a Spartans offensive rebound were 20 percent or less. If they grabbed the ball, they'd have a 38.3 percent chance of sending the game to overtime.

The shot hit the back of the rim, bounced up and hung in the air ... and was snared and smothered by Hayward, just as Stevens had hoped. Jukes and Veasley, who were on the blocks, had created a perfect seal for Hayward to run in from the third position on the left side of the lane. He ran off the court making a "No. 1" sign. There was a 0.0 percent chance of overtime. Butler was in the national title game.

Fenlon took out his phone and texted to Stevens, "You finally listened!"

Stevens can't remember exactly what he wrote back. It might have been something about finally being coachable after 33 years, but it also likely included an admission of relief that the rebound bounced the way it did. It certainly did not include a guarantee that he'd always foul in the future. If Stevens ever makes that decision, he'll keep it to himself, anyway; he likes to play it close to the vest. I suspect, though, that he'll remain a Situationalist. He still has too vivid a memory of Summers, streaking in from the top of the key toward that final rebound.

"What he did there was illegal," Stevens said of Summers, who entered the key before the ball hit the rim. But there was no mistaking that with a Hayward-free path down the lane, and Summers' level of athleticism, he might have produced a highlight-reel play that set mainstream acceptance of the fouling strategy back decades. The odds of that happening -- escaping the eyes of three refs while also avoiding Hayward -- seem infinitesimally slim. Yet they provide no guarantee. "If Gordon's not there," Stevens said, "Summers could've tip-dunked it for the tie. And then, I made a bad decision."

Click here to read the original article on SI.com.