Editor’s Note: The Insider is a recurring entertainment feature built around publicly available information, informed analysis and educated speculation. It does not claim access to confidential sources inside the Tennessee basketball program, nor should any predictions be interpreted as factual reporting of non-public information.
I got the call at 8:14 Sunday night.
“Lundblade is going to be limited when practice starts.”
“Dude anybody with a dial up internet connection knows that,” I shrugged back.
Tyler Lundblade had back surgery in August. He was limited during summer workouts, Tennessee has been careful with him, and the latest word is that he’s progressing toward full health.
What I didn’t know was what limited meant.
“Limited how?” I asked.
There was a pause.
“I don’t know. Limited.”
I reached for my notebook.
That’s not an answer.
I asked whether we were talking 90 percent limited, 50 percent limited or something closer to 12 percent limited.
“If it’s 12 percent just say it. I can take it.” My source said none of those phrases made sense.
Interesting.
I wrote down “WOULDN’T GIVE PERCENTAGE”.
This is why you have to ask follow-up questions.
I asked whether Lundblade could shoot. He said he assumed so. I asked whether he could run. He said he assumed so. I asked whether he could run while shooting.
“Why would he do that?”
I told him to forget I asked.
By Monday morning, I had developed what I’m calling the Lundblade Readiness Index.
The LRI is proprietary, so I can’t reveal the exact formula. But it incorporates several factors, including whether Lundblade is shooting, whether Lundblade is running, whether Lundblade is participating in drills and how quickly people answer when I ask how Lundblade is doing.
A fast “good” is encouraging.
A slow “good” could mean anything.
I called another source.
“How’s Lundblade?”
“Doing fine.”
I immediately sat up.
“Define fine.”
“Fine.”
“Basketball fine or regular fine?”
“What’s regular fine?”
I hadn’t considered that.
I told him I’d get back to him.
At this point I want to be clear about something. Lundblade had surgery, and Tennessee should take all the time necessary to get him completely healthy. Nobody needs September 22 Tyler Lundblade.
We need November Tyler Lundblade. Preferably December Tyler Lundblade. March Tyler Lundblade would also be useful.
But that doesn’t mean we stop asking questions.
The Vols brought Lundblade in from Belmont after he averaged 15.6 points and shot 40.6 percent from three last season. He made 115 threes.
One hundred fifteen.
I ran that number through the LRI.
It liked it.
I won’t bore you with the arithmetic, but the calculator displayed 115 and then I pressed the percent button several times. At one point I got 0.000115.
That didn’t feel right, so I cleared it.
This is why analytics should never replace scouting.
Later that afternoon, I got another call.
“He’s pretty close.”
I stopped walking.
“Pretty close to where?”
“Being back.”
“How close?”
“Pretty close.”
There it was again.
I asked for a number.
He sighed.
I waited.
“You know I’m not his doctor, right?”
Exactly what someone without authorization to discuss a timetable would say.
I wrote NOT HIS DOCTOR and underlined it.
Twice.
By now, a pattern was emerging. One source said Lundblade was doing fine. Another said he was pretty close. Nobody would give me a percentage, nobody would define “limited,” and at least one person insisted he wasn’t Lundblade’s doctor; I believed him.
Folks, you can draw your own conclusions here.
Mine is that Tennessee is being careful with an important player in September, which is probably exactly what Tennessee should be doing.
I realize that conclusion does not justify the nine phone calls I made yesterday. Journalism isn’t always glamorous. Yes I’m calling it journalism, what of it?
But there was still one question bothering me, so I called my first guy back.
“When Lundblade is fully cleared, will he still be limited?”
“No.”
I put the pen down.
Finally.
Something concrete.
I asked if I could attribute that information to him.
“No.”
I told him I would protect his identity.
“Last time you literally wrote in your article where I work.”
Fair criticism.
For the record, I will not disclose his employer in this column. I will only say that he works somewhere off Kinston Pike, usually gets off around 5:30 and drives a gray Nissan Altima.
The plate still starts with BDF.
And that’s as gar as I’m going. Source protection matters in this business.
So here’s where I’m at.
Lundblade is expected to begin practice limited. He is reportedly progressing toward full health. Tennessee has every reason to be patient, and I have found absolutely no evidence suggesting anyone around the program believes otherwise.
According to the Lundblade Readiness Index, that puts him somewhere between fine and pretty close.
We’re narrowing this thing down.
My prediction: The first time Tyler Lundblade knocks down three threes in five minutes, nobody will remember how much he practiced on September 22.
Except me.
I’ve got it all documented.
No, really.
– The Insider (Seriously)