There’s No Crying in Basketball

 

“There’s No Crying in Basketball”

A Review of The House That Rob Built by Nick Olszyk

 

Distribution Service: Theatrical

MPAA Rating, NR

USCCB Rating, NR

Reel Rating, Three Reels           

 

            It must be said on the outset that I know precious little about basketball and even less about basketball films; the first one that came to mind was Airbud and its many sequels my kids watch endlessly on Disney+. Yet when The House That Rob Built came across my lap, my wife – who loves female centric sports films – insisted I give it a look. She, like usual, was right. This documentary provides a fascinating look inside the world of collegiate women’s basketball though the experience of one of its first great coaches. Yet while the story is compelling, the format and production could use a bit more practice.

            Robin Selvig was an above average basketball star with dreams going all the way to the NBA, but his aspirations were cut short by a tragic injury. Like many great athletes who never quite made it, he turned to coaching. When he accepted the position to lead the University of Montana women’s basketball team at the ripe age of twenty-sex, female sports were not taken seriously. The team had virtually no funding, used poor leftover equipment from the men’s organization, and were treated more like a club or hobby. Selvig raised eyebrows by managing his players like men, with the typical yelling, determination, and “tough love” of male sports. The results were instantaneous. In two years, Lady Griz (based on the school Grizzley Bear mascot) won their first division championship and would dominate colligate women’s basketball for decades, winning twenty-one more titles in thirty-six years.  

            Today, there is a large debate over the concepts of equality verses equity in righting the wrongs of the world. Put simply, equality is treating every element in a system the same while equity is giving preference or advantage to elements that are at an inherent disadvantage. In terms of practical justice, both have positives and negatives based on the situation. In the 1970s, as Title IX was still being implemented, Lady Griz was at an obvious disadvantage. Yet, where some would have seen inequity of situation, Selvig saw equality of opportunity. His athletes had great potential to succeed independent of their circumstances. Rather than make legal challenges, he focused on improving technique. Sure enough, the winning streak drew more and more fans until they were selling out gymnasiums even in opposing towns. As a result, women’s basketball became more visible and improved facilities, equipment, and scholarships followed. A happy byproduct of this self-determination, which is abundant in the documentary, is the joy of the players. While they do sometimes comment on the struggles they experienced from institutional sexism, none of the players are bitter or vengeful. It was just one more obstacle to overcome like poor hand-eye coordination.

Issues regarding gender is another way this documentary cuts through modern difficulties. At no point does Selvig pretend that his players gender neutral. Women have unique physical, psychological, and spiritual needs, and he is understanding of that. He gives women time off to be with their children and is sensitive to feminine hygiene. Yet their gender does not affect the drive for athletic excellence; his training methods are no different than those for men. This is how St. Paul can outline unique roles for men and women in Ephesians 5 but still insist that “in Christ there is neither male nor female” with Galatians 3.

            Yet Selvig is not a perfect person, and the film doesn’t shy away from his sins. It spends a great deal of time discussing his personal shortcomings. Being a coach, he would be away from his wife and children for weeks or even months. His children, while understanding, still feel wounded by his lack of involvement. Part of his decision to retire in 2016 was to spend time with his grandchildren, which he insists on seeing almost daily. In one of the final interviews, he admits that spending an inordinate amount of time with them is his “way of making up for time away as a father.” It is the only moment in the documentary when he cries.

            While the story told is extremely compelling, the method used does a disservice to the subject. The editing is choppy and confusing. Almost no time is taken to explain basketball concepts like the NCAA or a “fast break.” I continually had to look up terminology and was often disoriented. There was also a problem with redundancy. Players would talk about similar subjects like Selvig’s style or the joy of a championship repeatedly. For a film that barely ran fifty-five minutes, it felt tediously long.  

            To be perfectly honest, it is tricky to understand The House that Rob Built. It’s unclear if this is meant to be a feature documentary, television special, or YouTube video. It feels unpolished and could probably use more time in the oven. Probably the best home would be as a short presentation on the University of Montana website or a tribute at an award’s banquet. Wherever it ends up, it will be worth seeing if only to highlight a story that probably would be untold otherwise. There are millions of people worldwide who live quiet lives of devotion and dignity like Robin Selvig. Not all will be celebrated with their own movie, but those who can, should.