Farewell, Coach Zac — A Gem Leaves for Spain

There are coaches you hire, and then there are coaches who teach you something every time they walk in the gym.

Zac “Zo” O’Dell is the latter.

A two-time All-American and member of the 1,000-point club at Division III Swarthmore College, Zac was a 6’7” forward from Schenectady, N.Y. who led the Garnet to the NCAA National Championship game. He scored 22 points in that title game alone. For the first time in program history, Swarthmore was ranked number one in NCAA Division III when COVID hit and shut the season down. The team finished 28-1 after the remainder of the NCAA Tournament was cancelled. Some legacies get stolen. His remained intact.

Zac was also named Centennial Conference Defensive Player of the Year, leading the conference in blocks while averaging 7.8 rebounds and 12.6 points per game. A chemistry major, he co-authored a paper published in the journal Environmental Science & Technology — making him likely the only active college basketball player to see his work appear in that publication. He was simultaneously applying to PhD programs. The man never did anything halfway.

When asked how he balanced it all, he put it simply: the team comes first, and if you have to stay up a couple extra hours to get everything done, you do it for the team. That mentality didn’t stay in the lab or on the court at Swarthmore. He brought it here — to our kids, every single time.

The First Time I Saw Him Coach

I’ve spent thirty years learning how to coach this game. Not play it — coach it. It’s close, but it’s not the same. And I’ll tell you plainly: I learned more from Zac than I can easily account for.

The first time parents saw him work, it was a fourth-grade boys team at Charger Nation, just outside the northern suburbs of Philadelphia. It was his first tournament coaching for Next Play — 8 a.m., no fanfare, no introduction, just standards. He was rotating kids five at a time, parents squirming in the bleachers, wondering what on earth was happening.

A dad named Tom pulled me aside: “Where’d you find this guy?”

He knows what he’s doing, I said. In fact, I learn from him.

I meant it then. I mean it now.

What Made Him Special at Next Play

Next Play Basketball was built on the idea that the student becomes the teacher — that the standards learned at Swarthmore could be brought to kids across the Delaware Valley and change how they see the game. Zac was living proof of that philosophy from day one.

He is a chameleon in the gym. Boys, girls, fourth grade, high school — he meets players where they are and lifts them somewhere higher. At Next Play, we coach through live action, not just drills, preparing athletes for high school basketball, competitive AAU play, and long-term growth. Zac embodied that approach naturally, because it’s exactly how he was built.

“We’re not always the best team on the floor. Not the tallest, not the strongest, not the quickest. But we believe we’re the tightest. We do things the right way, the best way. What we do isn’t complicated, but we do the details, and we do it better — and usually that’s enough to get the job done.”

— Zac O’Dell

That’s the standard he held our kids to. Every practice. Every drill. Every rotation.

He’s Still Teaching Me

This past weekend I was coaching a ninth grader and found myself yelling — run to the rim, Cole!

It’s one of those details that sounds simple until you realize how few players actually do it correctly. Zac taught us that the post player doesn’t just drift and hope. You run hard to the front of the rim, raise both arms high like a field-goal post, and call for the ball. Active feet. Active hands. Make yourself a target the passer can’t miss.

It’s exactly how I teach it today. And in that moment, screaming it at a ninth grader who was starting to get it, I thought of Zac immediately. That’s what great coaching does — it lives on. It travels through you into the next player, and the next coach, long after the teacher has moved on. He didn’t know he was leaving that behind. But he did. He always does.

The Little Things

A few years back, I had a birthday party thrown for me. First to arrive — Coach Zac. Sitting in his Uber out front, waiting to be coaxed inside because he was a minute or two early and didn’t want to impose.

The man who commands a gym at 7:30 on the dot, who rotates five kids at a time without blinking, who carried a national championship standard from Swarthmore to the suburbs of Philadelphia — that man, waiting patiently in an Uber, too respectful to ring the bell before his time.

And it wasn’t just that one night. Zac didn’t own a car during his time in Philadelphia. Not once. When we needed him — and we needed him often — he arrived by bicycle, by train, by whatever means necessary. No complaints, no excuses, no “let me see if I can make it work.” Just Coach Zac, showing up, ready to go, right on time.

In a world where everyone has a reason they couldn’t make it, he always found a reason he could. That’s the thing about standards. They don’t apply only when it’s convenient. They travel with you — on the train, on the bike, in an Uber idling out front because you’re two minutes early and don’t want to be rude. He never needed a car to get where he was going. He always knew exactly how to get there.

Beyond the Gym

Zac became family in a very short period of time. We talked fishing. We talked basketball. We celebrated great victories. We made memories that had nothing to do with screens or plays or substitution rotations.

He told me once that growing up, he never paid for worms when he went fishing with his brothers. Just dug them up himself. Of course he did. That’s Zac O’Dell in one image — the guy who finds a way, does it the right way, doesn’t cut corners, and doesn’t spend a dollar when a little elbow grease gets the job done just as well.

One last thing. The man had style too. Knew where to find the best gear without overpaying for it — Fabletics. I liked his pants so much, I started buying them myself. That’s the Zac O’Dell effect. He doesn’t just raise your coaching — he raises your whole game.

It Runs in the Family

And it wasn’t just Zac. We loved him so much that when the opportunity came to bring his mom, Coach Val, on board last year, we didn’t hesitate. She moved from their hometown, Schenectady, N.Y, joined our staff and helped coach one of our high school teams — a notable player in her own right, with her name in the Basketball Hall of Fame.

The standards Zac carried into every gym he walked into? Now you know where they came from. It all makes sense — the 7:30 on the dot, the bicycle in the rain, the worms he never paid for, the way he held our kids to something higher without ever raising his voice. That’s not just coaching. That’s upbringing. We were lucky enough to get both.

What Comes Next

After completing his Doctorate at Temple University — earning his PhD in the field he is truly passionate about — Zac O’Dell is boarding a plane this evening to Spain this week to begin a two-year externship abroad.

He filled in for us this past month and showed up the way he always does: prepared, present, and exactly who the kids needed.

Next Play Basketball was built to teach, coach, and inspire young athletes to be great teammates and leaders on and off the court. Zac O’Dell didn’t just fit that mission. He exemplified it.

Go well, Coach Zac. The gym will be quieter without you. The kids will carry forward what you gave them — whether they know it yet or not.

— Matt Paul, Next Play Basketball