The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

The Student News Site of Menlo School

The Coat of Arms

A Triple Threat; Player, Coach, Parent – An In-depth Profile of Kris Weems

A+Triple+Threat%3B+Player%2C+Coach%2C+Parent+-+An+In-depth+Profile+of+Kris+Weems
Pete Zivkov

Hutchinson Fann | Guest Writer

This is the first installment of “Menlo Facetime”.  Menlo Facetime is essentially a series of in-depth profiles of  interesting, and sometimes behind-the-scenes, members of the Menlo community. In this piece junior Hutchinson Fann profiles the new Athletic Director Kris Weems.

The first time I met Coach Kris Weems was at an open gym. I had seen him before, and heard of him, the old Menlo coach who had gone on to become a Warriors assistant, but I had never spoken to him before. From a distance, Coach Weems strikes an imposing figure: tall, chiseled, seemingly observing everything around him. From up close, he seemed even more imposing. There were no trivial introductions at the open gym; play began as soon as the clock hit 10 am. And by play, I don’t mean that Coach Weems sat on the sideline in a folding chair with a clipboard watching us play. By play I mean that he attacked us with abandon, launching three pointers, exploding on his way to the rim, and bursting through packs of players to snatch rebounds. After the first game, while I was gasping for air, regretting my obvious lack of conditioning, Coach Weems was still ready to go. “Another game?” he asked.

Kris Weems playing basketball at Stanford University
Kris Weems playing basketball at Stanford University. Photo CBS News

Coach Weems’ imposing nature is gone within a few seconds of talking to him, however. “I’ve always been a pretty sociable person,” he tells me, laughing, as he explains his degree in sociology and its uses in his life. His smile quickly breaks out across his face at the beginning of the interview, and it remains there, a genuine smile that makes one feel at ease. A four year basketball player at Stanford, a three year starter, Weems has an impressive list of accomplishments. A Pac-10 First Team and Final Four appearance headline his collegiate achievements, but he interestingly does not mention either of them. What he talks about instead are his teammates, the people he still “considers to be (his) best friends and brothers.” It was “learning to challenge myself and meet those challenges,” that highlights Coach Weems’ memory of college, specifically when he “was struggling and wanted to quit” and his teammates kept him on track.

In an athletic era often defined by the brash antics of Richard Sherman, the Seahawks cornerback who once proclaimed, “I’m the best in the league, don’t you ever try and throw on me!”, Weems’ quiet humility and constant deflection of praise seems almost peculiar for a player so competitive. Our society has begun to associate masculinity with cockiness, the level of talent with the loudness of the voice. I have seen many basketball coaches internalize this message and unleash a torrent of words, constantly, on both the players and the refs. Despite these popular culture examples, however, Coach Weems has never been one to crow about his achievements or rant on the sideline.

Perhaps he doesn’t have to.

“It’s something about him, his stature, that makes you work harder,” says a player Weems has coached in practice, “it’s something about his body language.”

Weems’ quiet confidence also leads him to deflect much of the credit for his accomplishments. He credits his older brother, a good high school and college player, for inspiring him to play, and for keeping him on track when he was the 8th man on a 7-man rotation in high school. He credits the leadership of older players, such as Brevin Knight, for his success in college, along with the push he got from his teammates. He credits an ex-NBA player for mentoring him during the year he spent playing professionally in Israel. Despite his accomplishments as a professional basketball player, Warriors assistant coach, and Stanford legend, however, one of his proudest moments was the recent birth of his daughter, Aaliyah.

“It was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had,” says Coach Weems, “it took me back to a moment, one picture I have with my brother sitting on the floor…we both have got these big smiles. When you have a big brother, that’s who you look up to. Now having a child, it brought me back to that moment.”

Coach Weems believes his experience as a coach and Athletic Director has helped prepare him for parenthood. “It’s a lot of the same things, namely compassion and listening,” he says. He lights up when discussing his goals for his daughter. “Whatever she wants to be: an athlete, an artist, a musician, I want her to have high character and to be competitive,” Weems says. As Menlo School’s new Athletic Director, he wants her to have many of the experiences he sees his students having, such as getting their names in the paper and getting coached. “I can’t wait until she’s able to walk, go out on the court,” he says.

Just hopefully she won’t have to guard him at open gym.

 

 

 

 

Leave a Comment
More to Discover

Comments (0)

The Coat of Arms encourages dialogue with our audience. We welcome constructive comments that avoid slander, hate, profanity and misinformation. In an effort to give voice to a variety of perspectives, anonymous comments will be considered, but signed comments are preferred. If you would like to submit an anonymous comment, please write "Anonymous" in the "Name" field below. While a valid email address is required, The Coat of Arms will not publish your email address. The Editorial Board will review comments and decide whether they will be put online; the editors reserve the right to edit for concision.
All The Coat of Arms Picks Reader Picks Sort: Newest

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *