Wow!.....Great clip Werebeaver.....Thanks for posting this.....Our current team could learn some things about defensive intensity from this clip!.....And what a great well-spoken assistant coach Michael Abraham was in 1994 when this clip was made and then as I'm sure most of you know his story.....just 2 years later in 1996 this was Michael Abraham:
"Alone and shaking, Michael Abraham sat in the bedroom closet of his large Southern California house. Burns spotted his fingers and legs, his right cheekbone.
He was there nearly every night, fumbling with a butane lighter.
Abraham remembers trembling as he held a baby-food jar over the flame. In the jar was a mixture of cocaine, water and baking soda that would become highly addictive crack cocaine.
He would smoke the crack, burning his fingers and any other body part that touched the pipe. It was July 1996.
He was once a rising star in the coaching ranks of women's college basketball, a good-looking, sharp-dressing, slick-talking recruiter.
The story of Abraham's promising coaching career and his fall due to cocaine addiction was detailed in a four-part series in The Oregonian by Jason Quick, who spent four months on the project.
Abraham grew up in an esteemed, closely knit Portland family as the oldest son of Multnomah County's top criminal judge. His siblings proclaimed him the "king" of the family.
And he was a junkie. In a year, his recreational use of cocaine turned into a $1,000-a-week crack habit"
.......quoted this from a Seattle Times article----and the amazing thing at the same time as this was going on he was still the Head Coach at Cal State-Northridge!------
"By day, he recruited, structured practice plans and developed relationships with his players. By night, he snorted cocaine. It was six months since he had moved to Northridge. Michael Abraham - the father-figure coach, the perfect son - was a full-blown addict.
He was constantly afraid, fearing people were watching him, stalking him.
He smashed a hole in his bedroom wall with a baseball bat, imagining there was somebody inside.
He crawled on his belly, military style, so the spies could not see him.
He ripped up the carpet, trying to find the people scurrying beneath him.
And through it all, he coached the Matadors."
