Organized Chaos: Why the Zach Ferrell Era is the Most Fun You Can Have on a Tuesday
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when you mix Florida sunshine, very tall young men, and an almost alarming amount of caffeine, I invite you to step inside the Titan Field House in Melbourne.
This is the home of the Eastern Florida State College Titans. If you’re used to watching the NBA, forget everything you know. There are no pampered millionaires here. There are only guys trying to get a Division I scholarship and playing defense like their rent depends on it.
It’s a beautiful kind of organized chaos.
Welcome to the new era. The Titans are now under the guidance of Head Coach Zach Ferrell. Taking over a program that’s been practically allergic to losing for a decade is no small task. It’s like being handed the keys to a Ferrari that’s already doing 100 mph and being told, "Don't scratch it, and hey, maybe make it go faster."
Ferrell on the sideline is a study in contrasts. The game on the court is moving at a pace that would make a track coach dizzy—bodies flying, sneakers squeaking so loud you can’t hear yourself think—and there’s Ferrell, usually standing with the intense, focused calm of a bomb disposal technician trying to decide which wire to cut. He’s got a plan. We aren’t always sure what it is when three guys drive into the paint simultaneously, but he knows.
Then you have the players.
You can't talk about this season without mentioning the freshman phenom, Sean Register Jr. The 6’7" forward from Cleveland plays with the kind of confidence usually reserved for people who own the building. He’s already dropping double-doubles like he’s bored with regular stats—dropping 27 points and 10 rebounds in a game recently. Watching him work in the paint is like watching someone parallel park a monster truck; it shouldn't fit, but he makes it look smooth. He has a knack for finding the rim when three defenders are hanging off him like cheap drapes.
But a scorer needs a setup man, and that’s where Tyson Wilson comes in. The sophomore guard from Port St. Lucie is the engine room. He recently posted a double-double of his own with 18 points and 11 assists. Eleven assists in a college game is absurd; that means he was responsible for more deliveries than a prime-time pizza driver. Wilson sees passing lanes that don’t actually exist in our dimension. If you are open for 0.5 seconds, the ball will hit you in the hands. If you aren't ready, it will hit you in the face. That's the deal.
Then you have the spark plug, Nick Oliver. Coming off the bench, Oliver is essentially instant offense. You know that friend who drinks two Espressos and then decides to reorganize the garage at midnight? That’s how Oliver plays basketball. He dropped 18 points recently just by being faster and more aggressive than everyone else on the floor. He doesn't just enter the game; he happens to it.
Watching the Titans swing the ball around the perimeter can give you whiplash. They play fast. Sometimes they hit a rhythm where they look like the Golden State Warriors, and the gym explodes. Sometimes it’s a bit more chaotic, like a fire drill in a bumper car factory. But hey, that's JUCO ball.
The best part about a Titans game isn't the polished execution. If you want perfection, go watch the ballet. You come to EFSC to watch effort. You come to watch ten guys diving on the floor for a loose ball when they are up by 20 points with a minute left.
It’s fast, it’s occasionally confusing, and it’s always entertaining. Get yourself to the Field House. It’s cheaper than a movie, and there's a much higher chance of seeing someone dunk on another human being's head.
