A Day in the Life of Fran Dunphy

Philadelphia is a city and a county. It has a local legislature, and it elects a mayor every four years. But if the city had a king, it would be Penn men's basketball coach Fran Dunphy.

From his playing days at La Salle, to his involvement in charities and nonprofit organizations throughout the city, to his masterful job of running the Quakers program since 1989, Dunphy has built quite a name for himself. He is one of Philadelphia's most recognizable faces, and to Dunphy's credit, one of his greatest skills is recognizing the other faces in his community.

Dunphy's day begins around 9 a.m. when he arrives on the Penn campus at his office at the Dunning Coaches Center. On this Friday morning in early November, the coach will be meeting with executives from Citizens Bank to discuss their possible involvement in Coaches vs. Cancer, an organization dedicated to cancer research.

As he steps out of his cab in front of the Citizens Bank offices on 20th and Market streets, the coach notices a van stopped at the intersection. It is one of the company vans of Conlin's Copy Center of King of Prussia, Malvern and Horsham.

"Hey," Dunphy calls out to the driver. "Say hi to Billy for me."

The driver nods. Fran Dunphy was just saying hi.

"Known the family since I was a kid," he said. "Good people."

Coaches vs. Cancer revolves around college basketball coaches making public appearances to raise money for cancer research. Dunphy has been involved with the organization since 1994. On this particular morning, Dunphy will be joined by an old friend, Phil Martelli, coach of the crosstown Saint Joseph's men's basketball team.

After saying hello to acquaintances in the office building lobby, Dunphy, along with Coaches vs. Cancer spokesperson Alyssa Cherkin, makes his way up to the sixth floor to meet with company bigwigs.

At this point there is a pause to wait for Martelli, who is late in arriving from Hawk Hill. When Martelli finally does arrive, the coaches engage in brotherly jabs and teasing. Dunphy tells Martelli of his plans to walk back to campus from Center City and challenges the St. Joe's coach to make the much longer walk back to City Line Avenue. Martelli retorts that Dunphy should try riding in his new Mercedes, a significant upgrade over Dunphy's Oldsmobile.

Don't even bother starting a conversation with these overgrown kids unless you are ready with fiery comebacks of your own.

But once the meeting starts, the two are all business. The pair make a brilliant marketing tandem.

"Phil and I are in a very enviable place," Dunphy begins. "When you're in a position where people look to you as a person who cares about the community, we've gotta take advantage, and that's what Coaches vs. Cancer is all about."

"Whatever it takes, we'll be there," Martelli reassures the executives. "If you need us to go to employee events, fine. If you want us to talk to go to company meetings, we'll do it."

"Last year, we raised half a million dollars," Dunphy continues. "This year, we're going for a million."

Dunphy and Martelli are two huge reasons why the Big 5 coaches have taken the lead in the Coaches vs. Cancer effort.

Citizens Bank sets up a follow-up meeting with Cherkin for the following week.

Dunphy is back in his office by 11:30 a.m. It is time to morph from pitchman to basketball coach. But although the coach has plenty of things to do to get his team prepared for its opening game against Quinnipiac, Dunphy's mind never wanders too far away from others.

"Danny Harrell!," Dunphy exclaims as the maintenance director of the Palestra walks into his office. "How's she running?"

Dunphy is talking about his prized 1988 Oldsmobile Delta that he gave to Harrell when he learned that his friend was without a car.

"Runnin' great," Harrell says.

Harrell offers to show off his pride and joy, which can be seen parked behind the Palestra most days. The car is about the only thing Harrell enjoys talking about more than its former owner.

"Coach Dunphy, great coach, very approachable," Harrell says. "Some coaches get nervous before games and don't like to talk to you. Not coach Dunphy."

By 12:30 p.m., the coach is looking at film of the previous night's Red and Blue scrimmage with assistant coaches Dave Duke and Gil Jackson. Dunphy is in the middle of discussing the team's preparations for Quinnipiac's full-court press when the phone rings.

"Recommendation?" Dunphy asks the voice at the other end of the call. "Yeah, sure. Send it over."

It was an alumnus asking the coach to write a college recommendation for his son, a request which Dunphy graciously accepts.

By 1 p.m., it's time for lunch. At first Dunphy is leaning toward getting a bite at one of the food carts on 33rd Street outside the Palestra. But then he decides that he's in the mood for pizza, specifically Famous Famiglia.

Dunphy pulls out his wallet to pay for himself and his guests when he gets into an altercation with the establishment's owner.

"I got it," says Mark Mancini, the owner of Famous Famiglia at the Moravian Cafes.

"No, I got it," Dunphy insists.

"You'll get it next time," Mancini says as he comps Dunphy's meal. You get the sense that no matter how hard Dunphy tries, he never is allowed to pay for lunch at Famous Famiglia.

"That's coach Dunphy," Mancini says to his next customer as the coach goes to find a table. "He's got a helluva team this year."

No trip to Famous Famiglia for Dunphy is complete without a subsequent trip to his friends at the Dunkin' Donuts next door.

"How's the coffee? Is it fresh?" Dunphy asks the cashier.

"Very fresh," she answers.

"As fresh as the customers?" Dunphy shoots back with a suppressed grin.

By 3 p.m., it is time for the team video session at the Palestra. Just as earlier in the morning when he walked into the Citizens Bank conference room, Dunphy's mood quickly turns very serious.

"To the rim, to the rim, Ibb!" Dunphy blurts out as the team watches sophomore guard Ibby Jaaber on an offensive possession from the previous night's scrimmage.

"Good things happen when we go to the rim," Dunphy continues. "Good things on the offensive side happen when we go to the rim. When we don't go to the rim, bad things happen on the defensive side."

The players stay attentive throughout the whole session, as Dunphy leads them through a lecture on his basketball ideology.

"You gotta take that personally when someone scores on you!" Dunphy exclaims after watching one of his players give up an easy basket.

"That's the only way to become a good defender, to say, you know what, I'm pissed off that that guy just scored on me."

Dunphy also acknowledges the good plays his guys make, and uses the plays as examples of how he wants the team to operate. One of the guys most frequently singled out for strong play is one of his star pupils, senior guard Tim Begley.

Dunphy stops the tape after a smart decision by Begley leads to an easy bucket.

"That's it, right there," Dunphy says. "That's our offense right there. Somebody asked me if we're changing the offense from last year. No we're not changing our offense. This is our fucking offense! Making smart decisions with the basketball."

Soon after, professor Dunphy's Basketball 101 class is adjourned for the day. It's time for practice.

By 4 p.m., the team has made its way over to Weightman Hall to hit the court. Jackson and Duke lead the team through stretching and drills.

Dunphy is all over the place. He's on the phone. He's talking to alumni that have come to watch practice. He's on the phone again. He's riding the stationary bike. He's on the phone again. He joins the team, even doing pushups with the players. Then he's back on the phone.

Dunphy's energy and passion for the game are a marvel to watch. In his 16th season at Penn, Dunphy shows no signs of slowing down. He's still doing the pushups, still bending his knees during drills and still demanding attention to detail from his players.

As if to prove to himself and his players that he is not fatigued, he ratchets up the intensity more and more as the practice goes on. During a halfcourt drill, Dunphy calls upon his players to keep working, keep fighting for offensive rebounds, keep playing until the whistle blows.

In one of the most heated exchanges of practice, Dunphy challenges junior forward Friedrich Ebede not to give up on the play after he missed a shot on a drive to the hoop.

The next time down the floor, Ebede responds. One hard drive to the basket, four shot attempts and three offensive rebounds later, he scores.

Ebede pops up after the play with an incredulous expression on his face that seemed to say, "Is that good enough, coach?" Apparently, at least for now, it is. But no one said that playing for one of college basketball's most respected coaches is always easy.

By 6:30 p.m., Dunphy has gathered the team together to end the day of practice, but for the coach, the day is hardly over. He hurries out of Weightman to get to the rosary of a friend in Northeast Philly. After dinner, it's time to get ready for a 10 a.m. scrimmage against Fairfield the following morning at the Palestra.

For Fran Dunphy, there's never a dull moment. It's working on getting the Quakers back to the NCAA Tournament. It's reaching Coaches vs. Cancer's $1 million goal. It's cultivating relationships with his many friends, fans and acquaintances in the Philadelphia area. But whatever he's doing, he is still pursuing it with the energy of a man who had just arrived in town.

And thanks to his decision to stay at Penn rather than take the head coaching position at his alma mater La Salle, the king will continue to hold court on this side of town.

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