St. Joe’s Prep shows little respect for Speedy Morris, an all-time great

So St. Joseph’s Prep has decided to shrink Speedy Morris to an afterthought on the basketball court that bears his name, and a school that prides itself on producing the best of the best and the brightest of the bright has poked itself in the eye Stooges-style.

Morris won 1,035 games in his career. He won 754 games at the high school level, the most in Philadelphia history. He won 366 at the Prep, the most in that school’s history, and two Catholic League championships there. In 2020, just before Morris retired, the Prep held a ceremony to reveal a sticker with his name, big as life in the school’s trademark maroon lettering, in a spot near midcourt, a spot where no one in the gym could miss it. Now, after renovations to the gym, a plain placard reading SPEEDY MORRIS HC 2001-2020 takes up part of the court’s sideline — right where a team’s coaches and players would sit, right where a thicket of bodies and chairs and towels on game days promises to prevent anyone from noticing it.

This may seem a small thing, the placement of a coach’s name on a basketball court. But the shabby treatment of any longtime and loyal employee, let alone one who was already a city legend, is a reflection of an institution’s leadership — or lack of it. Apparently, relocating the tribute to Morris was so pressing a matter that the Prep’s power people couldn’t be bothered to reach out to Morris and his family to tell them of the change.

» READ MORE: St. Joe’s Prep moved Speedy Morris’ name from the court to the sideline. His family and supporters are upset.

The situation has inspired the kind of outrage and questions from Morris’ children and friends, from much of the Philadelphia basketball community, and from Prep alumni that should have been easy to predict — not because everyone knew Morris’ allies would make a stink, but because this was such an obvious unforced error. Morris is the best basketball coach the Prep ever had. He’s a member of the Philadelphia Sports Hall of Fame and has been on the ballot for the Naismith National Basketball Hall of Fame. Just last year, he received the prestigious Joe Lapchick Award for “promoting good character in the sport of basketball.” He is 81 and has been suffering from Parkinson’s disease for years.

You don’t treat someone like that like this. You just don’t.

“He was much more than their basketball coach,” Morris’ eldest son, Keith, told me. “He’s my dad, but they disrespected an icon.”

Maybe the most puzzling and revealing aspect of the situation is the manner in which those charged with making this call keep avoiding any reasonable explanation for why they made it. Maybe it’s because there isn’t one. The school released a statement Wednesday, but no one stood up to explain what precipitated the decision and why. I emailed three members of the Prep’s leadership team Wednesday night — president John Marinacci, principal Andrew Cavacos, and Betsy Courtney, the school’s vice president of institutional advancement — with questions that they had yet to answer publicly. No matter the reason for the court’s renovation, why couldn’t Morris’ name simply remain where it was? Did the Prep want that prime area of the court to be blank for the purpose of honoring someone else in the future? Is the school considering selling the naming rights to the gym and the court?

A Prep spokesperson, Bill Avington, responded Thursday afternoon, saying that the new sideline placard “will not be covered by the chairs but will be exactly where our current coach and future coaches will work. We intended it to be a fitting honor, a legacy that will stay with the program.” As for why Morris’ name was relocated, Avington said: “This had nothing to do with any other branding or financial decisions. However, if there ever were a scenario where a paid naming opportunity or a sponsorship were to happen, any funds that would result from it would go directly to financial aid to allow qualified students to benefit from our Jesuit education.”

This wasn’t about money, but if it turns out to be about money, we’re totally cool with it.

Since the change was revealed, the on-background justification has been that the Prep has honored Morris plenty of times over the years, at banquets and with fundraisers and a scholarship fund. But when Marinacci sent a letter to the school’s parents and guardians Wednesday afternoon, it was easy to see through the spin and damage control. Suddenly the midcourt sticker, after four years, was a “temporary … tribute,” he wrote, and the new “permanent honor of his name in the home coaching box” would allow “all coaches who follow to stand in [Morris’] footsteps.”

On his footsteps, actually. So it’s harder to tell he was there.

None of this had to happen. None of it. If Morris held on a little too long at the end, too stubborn to acknowledge that the disease was taking too great a toll on him and his coaching abilities, sorry. That’s the price a program often pays with someone who has done his job so well for so long. It doesn’t mean he deserves to be shown such little respect and regard now. This got ugly for the Prep, and it got ugly fast, and it should have. There was no good reason for this decision, and there’s no good reason it can’t be reversed. So do it. Fix this.