Men's Basketball

Meet Kip Wellman, Jim Boeheim’s right-hand man

Alexandra Moreo | Senior Staff Phtotographer

Kip Wellman is not well known amongst SU faithful, but he's an important part of SU's staff.

One afternoon 13 years ago, a Southland Christian Church service in Lexington, Kentucky, had finished and Roger Wellman was sitting in his car ready to drive home. Walking past was Janet Greene, the sister-in-law of Syracuse head coach Jim Boeheim. Wellman and Greene were active in the church community, and Wellman’s son, Kip, had given informal basketball lessons to Greene’s son. Soon, they were catching up.

“How’s Kip?” Greene remembered asking.

“He’s coaching high school,” Roger Wellman said. “You’re not going to believe this, but one of his favorite programs is Syracuse.”

A few moments later, Roger Wellman added: “Jim is one of his favorites. Do you think you could mention Kip’s name to Juli?”

“Absolutely,” Greene recalled saying.



The two dispersed, but the foundation for a Jim Boeheim-Kip Wellman connection had been poured. Greene could not reach Boeheim that week, so she phoned SU assistant coach Mike Hopkins to suggest he take a look at an unusual job candidate for one of the winningest programs in college hoops: a high school junior varsity basketball coach in Kentucky who had never played or coached at the Division I level.

“No problem,” Hopkins told her. He owed her a favor and asked to have Kip give him a call.

There was no position at the time, but Wellman, now 36, started out as a volunteer and stuck around. After a brief stint at Western Kentucky, he has served for five seasons as Syracuse’s director of basketball operations. It’s a job that includes several duties, including the most visible one: sitting next to Boeheim on the bench. Wellman is never a few feet from the head man, always with a sheet of paper rolled up in his hand.

“I just give Coach (Boeheim) what he needs and wants,” Wellman said. “Once you get an opportunity, you have to do with it as much as you can.”

A few days after Hopkins called that day back in 2005, Wellman and his father filled a U-Haul with a couch, TV and mattress, and drove 10 hours up to Syracuse. They crashed at an apartment Wellman had found on Google. He drove to Manley Field House with his father, Roger, to meet Boeheim and Hopkins. Boeheim questioned him. He challenged him. Roger said Boeheim needed to know that he can trust you, that you can deliver, and that, maybe, you could be his right-hand man someday.

Casual fans see him on TV almost exclusively in the background of a shot fixated on Boeheim, but Wellman tracks player fouls, timeouts, inbound plays and game trends. Boeheim said the assistant coach opening last spring that followed Mike Hopkins’ departure came down to two people: Allen Griffin, who got the job because of Boeheim knew him longer, and Wellman. When asked about Wellman this week, Boeheim rattled off a number of attributes that, he said, makes him essential.

“He could be a good coach someday,” Boeheim said. “He’s an invaluable member of the staff. It makes all of this possible for the coaches to focus. He’s a good resource. He’s very important. Very, very important.”

***

By the time he was 10, Wellman knew what he wanted to be. No occupation crossed his mind other than to be a college basketball coach. One day after a summer basketball camp at nearby Transylvania (Kentucky) University, he came home and told his parents he didn’t want to coach at the professional or high school levels. He wanted to coach college ball.

Wellman had been watching, with rapt attention, pickup games at the University of Kentucky. They featured his father and several college coaches, including former Kentucky head coach Rick Pitino. In 1996, Kip insisted he miss school one day. He and his father flew to New Jersey, where they watched Kentucky play Syracuse in the national championship, in what was Hopkins’ first year at Syracuse.

“I knew right then that coaching was what I wanted to do,” said Wellman, who attended dozens of UK games with his dad. “I was watching the games, but I was always watching the coaches: What are they doing? I always loved the innovation of being a coach. Being around it at a personal level inspired me to pursue coaching.”

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Courtesy of Allison Wellman

His mother, Mary Susan, noticed Kip almost exclusively talked about teammates’ strengths at the dinner table. He gravitated to what they did bring, rarely pointing out what they didn’t. He was not afraid to put his hand on a teammate’s shoulder from a young age, she said, and he “always had a big heart.” He routinely sends his mother flowers, just because.

That affection became apparent on the court, as well. Danny Haney, Wellman’s coach at Lexington Catholic High School, said Wellman wasn’t vocal, but he brought his teammates in huddles. Haney said Wellman’s teams lost fewer than 10 games during his three years as the varsity team’s starting point guard.

If players weren’t in position, Wellman told them. He was “pretty encyclopedic,” Roger said, open to looking at every coach’s particular style and strategy. He adored Pitino’s intense coaching style and tried to learn something about every coach he watched.

“With Kip, I had a coach on the floor,” Haney said. “He literally knew when to call timeouts for us.”

Wellman declined an opportunity to walk-on for Billy Donovan at Florida, instead playing at Division II Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University in Florida. But after finishing his playing days, Wellman had a slight problem. To fulfill his dream and coach Division I hoops usually required D-I playing experience. What Wellman did have was credentials that struck Boeheim and Hopkins.

***

When Hopkins invited Wellman to come to Syracuse in 2005, before construction of the Carmelo K. Anthony Basketball Center, or just “the Melo,” Wellman felt indebted. Hopkins had taken a chance on him, and Wellman felt he had to prove himself to Hopkins and Boeheim, his father said.

On the day Wellman arrived at Syracuse, Boeheim sat with him in Manley Field House. It was a reality check, Roger said, and Boeheim was saying that, “You not only have to be good, you have to be a little bit lucky.”

“He was really trying to discourage Kip,” Roger said. “Here’s a kid from the South all his life, plays college ball in Florida, going to Syracuse, New York. It was an experience for him.”

Boeheim wanted to let Wellman know that becoming a coach for a big-time program would not come easy. Roger was not particularly happy that his son had turned down job offers at local companies, including banks and his own successful trucking business.

“Coach was saying, ‘You sure you want to do this?’” Roger recalled. “It was, ‘Let me tell you how hard this is going to be.’ Kip was not fazed one bit.”

***

In the volunteer role, which Wellman filled for several months in 2005, he worked 12-hour days studying film, putting together scouting reports and reading about plays. When Hopkins invited him to SU, there was no position. It was a lowly intern-level role. He worked so hard and watched so much film that he sometimes ended up sleeping at his desk in Manley.

“I was in the office 24 hours a day,” Wellman said. “I got here and I didn’t know anybody, didn’t know anything.”

From the get-go, Hopkins served as Wellman’s mentor. Wellman emulated Hopkins as he worked toward his master’s degree in higher education. He worked in a back room in a corner of Manley, where the men’s lacrosse offices now reside. He walked past the reception desk to a huge conference room, which he shared with a colleague. In time, he earned the respect of the room thanks to his thoroughness and knowledge of the game.

“I had a little rinky desk that was like this big” — Wellman gestured about one foot between his hands — “and I had a computer on it, a telephone, had a TV there, watched all of the games. It was a tremendous learning experience, like getting your PhD.”

Wellman asked to stay onboard by going to graduate school at SU, and Hopkins approved it. When they weren’t on the court, Wellman and Hopkins were watching film or completing scouting reports. Before one of Wellman’s first games, Hopkins told him he would complete the report, but that Wellman should do it too. Wellman poured several hours into the several-page report on SU’s next opponent, Florida.

He handled whatever tasks trickled down from the coaches, performing a lot of necessary but grueling grunt work. He mulled over VHS tapes and DVDs, cutting down hours of tape into videos that lasted only a few minutes long. With that attention to detail, Wellman established himself as one of the hardest-working, brightest men in the program, Boeheim said.

***

Wellman’s religious background prepared him well for one of his first days at Syracuse.

During an early-season game, Boeheim was called for a technical foul, Kip’s father, Roger, said, because Boeheim cursed near a referee. It is unclear what exactly he said. After the game, Wellman sat in the coaches meeting inside the locker room. Boeheim turned and looked at Wellman.

“You’re a resident religious expert here,” Boeheim said, according to Roger. “Tell me what I said, if it was a cuss word, if I used God’s name in vain.”

Wellman was incredulous. He hesitated.

“I don’t know about up here,” Wellman said, “but where I’m from, that was a cuss word.”

“I have no idea what I said,” Boeheim said later. “I say the craziest things.”

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Alexandra Moreo | Senior Staff Photograoher

But that’s what Boeheim said he needs from his right-hand man: to keep him in check, to ensure he’s not missing the little things during the speedy nature of games.

***

From 2009-12, Wellman coached at Western Kentucky. Then WKU underwent a coaching change, forcing Wellman out of basketball altogether. He was living in Florida with his parents, unsure exactly what his next step in life would be.

But he had been texting Hopkins, who called one day asking if Wellman would be interested in coming back to Syracuse. There was a job opening for director of basketball operations, which Stan Kissel served from 2005-12. Hopkins knew whom he wanted to hire, and Wellman knew where he wanted to be.

Perhaps Hopkins saw a little bit of himself in Wellman: the late nights studying teams, organizing trips down to the minute, keeping a spotless office. Hopkins brought him back on board in summer 2013 as director of basketball operations, Wellman’s current role.

Now, Wellman is the one eager to notify both Boeheim and his players about opponent weaknesses. He is the one concerned about inbounds plays. He is the one who jumps off the bench to inform Boeheim of any foul trouble. Players said they often see Wellman chatting with Boeheim during practice but aren’t exactly sure what they’re talking about. They said he is the perfect sidekick to Boeheim, with the ability to remain stoic.

“I talk to him a lot during the game,” junior point guard Frank Howard said. “On the sideline, about how many timeouts and how many fouls we have. He knows that every time, always staying composed.”

Back more than a decade ago, Boeheim wanted someone he could trust. It didn’t matter that Wellman hadn’t been a college basketball star, or one of the few people he has allowed sit on the SU bench without Division I playing experience.

Wellman has built a life in central New York with his wife, Allison, whom he met at Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport, only because she liked basketball and struck up a conversation when she saw his Syracuse hat. They have a daughter, Saylor, who just turned 3 and live in the Sedgwick neighborhood of Syracuse. During a team gathering at Boeheim’s house, Saylor rolled over for the first time on, fittingly, Boeheim’s own bed.

Wellman said he is in no hurry to leave Boeheim’s side, although his goal is to become a coach someday. He said he’ll keep watching Boeheim and his staff, and keep learning, keep studying, keep searching for more.

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Alexandra Moreo | Senior Staff Photographer





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