By Jerry Carino
Unlike most head coaches, over 12 seasons at Seton Hall, Kevin Willard never made an opening statement at his postgame press conferences.
If J.P. Pelzman was there, Willard looked his way and J.P. got things started by asking the first question. Once, in the Big East Tournament, moderator John Paquette asked Kevin if he wanted to make an opening statement. Willard pointed to Pelzman and replied, “J.P. is my opening statement.” Another time, when reporters were asked to raise hands before being called upon, Paquette called on me first, and I replied, ‘I yield the first question to J.P. Pelzman.”
It’s a small detail but telling about the respect J.P. commanded from his peers in the media and the coaches he covered. The first question sets a tone for the rest of the press conference. A well-phrased query---the phrasing is as important as the actual question, if not more so---it can open things up for everyone by really getting a coach talking; a bad one can clam a coach up.
I know this because J.P. taught me. He taught me in word and showed me in deed. When I started on the Seton Hall beat in the fall of 2003, he had been covering the team for a year. He’d also been covering pro/college sports several years prior, so I watched and learned from him. More important, he freely offered his wisdom. He welcomed me to the “big leagues” and was kind and generous to a newcomer from a rival publication.
Whereas some other sports beats are toxic due to bad blood between reporters (not to mention between reporters and the franchise), J.P. helped set a collegial tone that continues to this day with New Jersey college basketball coverage. This, to me, is his biggest legacy and something I try to continue in the Seton Hall and Rutgers press rooms.
That first team we covered together, the 2003-04 Pirates that beat Arizona in the NCAA Tournament, was a crash course for me, with J.P. as the instructor. He had such great interactions with the players---John Allen, Marcus Toney-El, Kelly Whitney, Grant Billmeier and Donald Copeland loved him. I saw how he got great quotes from those guys, how he turned quick interviews conversational, pointing out little observations (from stuff that happened on and off the court) that they appreciated, how he could ask a tough question (like why Marcus air-balled a game-deciding free throw) in a respectful manner, how he always thanked interviewees for their time.
Players and coaches also trusted him to get the context right, which is so important.
Example: In 2011, Kevin Willard infamously threw Keon Lawrence and Jamel Jackson off the team right before a game at Rutgers. J.P. found out off the record what happened: Lawrence and Jackson were serial curfew violators, and the night before the game, an assistant coach, Grant Billmeier, caught them sneaking out of their hotel room after hours. They told Billmeier they were just heading to the vending machine. Billmeier said, ‘No problem, I’ll wait for you here.’ And the two guys didn’t come back. They went out to the bars. So that was the last straw.
The next day, after Seton Hall beat Rutgers, J.P. knew the guy to approach in the locker room about it: Jordan Theodore. Theo was a straight-up, no-holds-barred talker with reporters. J.P. asked him something along the lines of, “What kind of message did that send to the team” and Theo responded with “They deserved it.” (I’m paraphrasing, but his point was clear)
Well, Keon’s crazy mother didn’t like that. She attacked Jordan’s mother in the stands at the next game and then filed a complaint with police alleging Theo had threatened her and Keon with a gun. We knew it was totally fabricated, and that any reporting on the complaint had to include the context of why Keon’s mother was trying to exact vengeance. Some other media outlets left out that key context. J.P. was on top of it the whole time, and when the complaint was subsequently dismissed, it further cemented his reputation as a trusted source for SHU coverage.
Here’s another story. As Gonzo’s notorious tenure was winding down, J.P. was interviewing Stix Mitchell after a game and Stix said something that bulged his eyeballs. He said that during games Gonzo was taking his cues from people in the stands----that he was easily influenced by what the folks behind the Pirates’ bench would yell out at him. A fan would yell out “put so-and-so in the game” and Gonzo would do it.
This was a serious accusation for a player to make. Another reporter would have taken that quote and run with it. J.P. said to Stix, “I just want to make sure that you know the tape recorder is on; you’re OK with me using that quote?” J.P. didn’t have to do that, but he was being extra responsible, giving a college student a little more wiggle room than a pro might get. Stix said, ‘yup’ and what happened next is history.
Gonzo saw the quote and called J.P., cursed him out and threatened him. J.P. could handle being cursed out – we all got cursed out by Gonzo – but threatened was a bridge too far. So J.P. called Pat Hobbs and told him. Hobbs, who was impressed that J.P. gave Stix a chance to take a breath and back down, called Gonzo and demanded he apologize to J.P privately; Gonzo told Hobbs to F-off, and Hobbs pretty much fired him on the spot. He probably would have fired Gonzo anyway, but that was the last straw.
There were funny stories, too. J.P. came down to Rutgers for Myles Mack’s Senior Day game. We were in the interview room afterward doing the postgame presser and J.P., who had keen powers of observation, noticed a non-credentialed guy had slipped in the back door. The interview room was lined with large, framed photos of several RU players past and present, and the guy who had slipped in (unbeknownst to everyone else) pulled the giant photo of Myles Mack off the back wall, tucked it under his arm and slipped out the door with it.
A couple of minutes later we're out on the court getting ready to leave and J.P. grabbed the arm of Rutgers SID Kevin Lorincz, pointed to the other side of the court and said, ‘There’s the thief! There’s the guy who stole the Myles Mack photo!’”
Well, the guy was Myles’ father. And yes, he had helped himself to the photo without permission. But Lorincz laughed it off and we did, too. In fact, we laughed about it for years, anytime Myles’ name came up. Classic J.P.
Personally, I cannot even begin to count the number of favors J.P. did for me over the years. In 2016, when Gannett was being cheap about my trip to Denver for Seton Hall-Gonzaga in the NCAA Tournament, J.P. put me up in his hotel room. He’d even requested two beds in anticipation that it might be an issue. In 2017, I drove 10 hours to Greenville for Seton Hall-Arkansas with J.P. riding shotgun, arriving at 2 a.m. --- a brutal drive---and was such a great copilot, keeping me alert with great stories from covering the Jets and Mets and Jay Wright at Hofstra, and even opening up about his difficult relationship with his father.
I loved sitting next to him during games. Every game we covered together---every single time---he said something that made me guffaw at least once. Such a quick wit. I missed him at games so much last year that I called him on my way home every time from the Rock to get his thoughts on the action, and also tell him what transpired in the press room (I picked up the job of asking the first question this past season, always with ‘What would J.P. Ask?’ in mind.)
J.P. had a lot of health problems---severe asthma, diabetes, hypertension---and he hadn’t really left the house much of at all since COVID erupted. Since this past season ended we talked by phone at length once a week, and I was trying to get him pumped up to come back to games in the fall.
I am gutted that it won’t happen. And what saddens me most about J.P.’s passing is that I don’t think he realized just how many people appreciated and respected him. The outpouring was incredible, even from some media members who I knew J.P. didn’t like (he was unfailingly polite to all). I also had lengthy text exchanges with Willard, Billmeier and Copeland as the news came out. They were grieving, too. Willard wanted to send an arrangement but alas, there was no funeral home used.
Peter Long, who is a good guy, came out to the memorial service. We discussed the possible dedication of a plaque honoring J.P. that will hang in the Rock’s media room. We’re also going to have an informal gathering, probably at Bunny’s, after Seton Hall’s media day this October to reminisce about J.P. – a sort of “JP Hour” to tell stories and appreciate a good man and a good sportswriter.
I’m also thinking of introducing a J.P. Pelzman Award, a plaque presented at the end of each season to the Seton Hall basketball player who handles the most media responsibilities (many pro beats give out awards like this).
We will miss J.P. dearly but I want to keep his spirit alive---his fun, collegial, thoughtful, responsible approach that was so well regarded by readers, players, coaches and his fellow media members. It’s the least we can do for a great friend.
Unlike most head coaches, over 12 seasons at Seton Hall, Kevin Willard never made an opening statement at his postgame press conferences.
If J.P. Pelzman was there, Willard looked his way and J.P. got things started by asking the first question. Once, in the Big East Tournament, moderator John Paquette asked Kevin if he wanted to make an opening statement. Willard pointed to Pelzman and replied, “J.P. is my opening statement.” Another time, when reporters were asked to raise hands before being called upon, Paquette called on me first, and I replied, ‘I yield the first question to J.P. Pelzman.”
It’s a small detail but telling about the respect J.P. commanded from his peers in the media and the coaches he covered. The first question sets a tone for the rest of the press conference. A well-phrased query---the phrasing is as important as the actual question, if not more so---it can open things up for everyone by really getting a coach talking; a bad one can clam a coach up.
I know this because J.P. taught me. He taught me in word and showed me in deed. When I started on the Seton Hall beat in the fall of 2003, he had been covering the team for a year. He’d also been covering pro/college sports several years prior, so I watched and learned from him. More important, he freely offered his wisdom. He welcomed me to the “big leagues” and was kind and generous to a newcomer from a rival publication.
Whereas some other sports beats are toxic due to bad blood between reporters (not to mention between reporters and the franchise), J.P. helped set a collegial tone that continues to this day with New Jersey college basketball coverage. This, to me, is his biggest legacy and something I try to continue in the Seton Hall and Rutgers press rooms.
That first team we covered together, the 2003-04 Pirates that beat Arizona in the NCAA Tournament, was a crash course for me, with J.P. as the instructor. He had such great interactions with the players---John Allen, Marcus Toney-El, Kelly Whitney, Grant Billmeier and Donald Copeland loved him. I saw how he got great quotes from those guys, how he turned quick interviews conversational, pointing out little observations (from stuff that happened on and off the court) that they appreciated, how he could ask a tough question (like why Marcus air-balled a game-deciding free throw) in a respectful manner, how he always thanked interviewees for their time.
Players and coaches also trusted him to get the context right, which is so important.
Example: In 2011, Kevin Willard infamously threw Keon Lawrence and Jamel Jackson off the team right before a game at Rutgers. J.P. found out off the record what happened: Lawrence and Jackson were serial curfew violators, and the night before the game, an assistant coach, Grant Billmeier, caught them sneaking out of their hotel room after hours. They told Billmeier they were just heading to the vending machine. Billmeier said, ‘No problem, I’ll wait for you here.’ And the two guys didn’t come back. They went out to the bars. So that was the last straw.
The next day, after Seton Hall beat Rutgers, J.P. knew the guy to approach in the locker room about it: Jordan Theodore. Theo was a straight-up, no-holds-barred talker with reporters. J.P. asked him something along the lines of, “What kind of message did that send to the team” and Theo responded with “They deserved it.” (I’m paraphrasing, but his point was clear)
Well, Keon’s crazy mother didn’t like that. She attacked Jordan’s mother in the stands at the next game and then filed a complaint with police alleging Theo had threatened her and Keon with a gun. We knew it was totally fabricated, and that any reporting on the complaint had to include the context of why Keon’s mother was trying to exact vengeance. Some other media outlets left out that key context. J.P. was on top of it the whole time, and when the complaint was subsequently dismissed, it further cemented his reputation as a trusted source for SHU coverage.
Here’s another story. As Gonzo’s notorious tenure was winding down, J.P. was interviewing Stix Mitchell after a game and Stix said something that bulged his eyeballs. He said that during games Gonzo was taking his cues from people in the stands----that he was easily influenced by what the folks behind the Pirates’ bench would yell out at him. A fan would yell out “put so-and-so in the game” and Gonzo would do it.
This was a serious accusation for a player to make. Another reporter would have taken that quote and run with it. J.P. said to Stix, “I just want to make sure that you know the tape recorder is on; you’re OK with me using that quote?” J.P. didn’t have to do that, but he was being extra responsible, giving a college student a little more wiggle room than a pro might get. Stix said, ‘yup’ and what happened next is history.
Gonzo saw the quote and called J.P., cursed him out and threatened him. J.P. could handle being cursed out – we all got cursed out by Gonzo – but threatened was a bridge too far. So J.P. called Pat Hobbs and told him. Hobbs, who was impressed that J.P. gave Stix a chance to take a breath and back down, called Gonzo and demanded he apologize to J.P privately; Gonzo told Hobbs to F-off, and Hobbs pretty much fired him on the spot. He probably would have fired Gonzo anyway, but that was the last straw.
There were funny stories, too. J.P. came down to Rutgers for Myles Mack’s Senior Day game. We were in the interview room afterward doing the postgame presser and J.P., who had keen powers of observation, noticed a non-credentialed guy had slipped in the back door. The interview room was lined with large, framed photos of several RU players past and present, and the guy who had slipped in (unbeknownst to everyone else) pulled the giant photo of Myles Mack off the back wall, tucked it under his arm and slipped out the door with it.
A couple of minutes later we're out on the court getting ready to leave and J.P. grabbed the arm of Rutgers SID Kevin Lorincz, pointed to the other side of the court and said, ‘There’s the thief! There’s the guy who stole the Myles Mack photo!’”
Well, the guy was Myles’ father. And yes, he had helped himself to the photo without permission. But Lorincz laughed it off and we did, too. In fact, we laughed about it for years, anytime Myles’ name came up. Classic J.P.
Personally, I cannot even begin to count the number of favors J.P. did for me over the years. In 2016, when Gannett was being cheap about my trip to Denver for Seton Hall-Gonzaga in the NCAA Tournament, J.P. put me up in his hotel room. He’d even requested two beds in anticipation that it might be an issue. In 2017, I drove 10 hours to Greenville for Seton Hall-Arkansas with J.P. riding shotgun, arriving at 2 a.m. --- a brutal drive---and was such a great copilot, keeping me alert with great stories from covering the Jets and Mets and Jay Wright at Hofstra, and even opening up about his difficult relationship with his father.
I loved sitting next to him during games. Every game we covered together---every single time---he said something that made me guffaw at least once. Such a quick wit. I missed him at games so much last year that I called him on my way home every time from the Rock to get his thoughts on the action, and also tell him what transpired in the press room (I picked up the job of asking the first question this past season, always with ‘What would J.P. Ask?’ in mind.)
J.P. had a lot of health problems---severe asthma, diabetes, hypertension---and he hadn’t really left the house much of at all since COVID erupted. Since this past season ended we talked by phone at length once a week, and I was trying to get him pumped up to come back to games in the fall.
I am gutted that it won’t happen. And what saddens me most about J.P.’s passing is that I don’t think he realized just how many people appreciated and respected him. The outpouring was incredible, even from some media members who I knew J.P. didn’t like (he was unfailingly polite to all). I also had lengthy text exchanges with Willard, Billmeier and Copeland as the news came out. They were grieving, too. Willard wanted to send an arrangement but alas, there was no funeral home used.
Peter Long, who is a good guy, came out to the memorial service. We discussed the possible dedication of a plaque honoring J.P. that will hang in the Rock’s media room. We’re also going to have an informal gathering, probably at Bunny’s, after Seton Hall’s media day this October to reminisce about J.P. – a sort of “JP Hour” to tell stories and appreciate a good man and a good sportswriter.
I’m also thinking of introducing a J.P. Pelzman Award, a plaque presented at the end of each season to the Seton Hall basketball player who handles the most media responsibilities (many pro beats give out awards like this).
We will miss J.P. dearly but I want to keep his spirit alive---his fun, collegial, thoughtful, responsible approach that was so well regarded by readers, players, coaches and his fellow media members. It’s the least we can do for a great friend.
