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Without Hill, the Jags struggled to a 16-14 record last season. But then they went overseas again, taking 20,000 pairs of shoes to Nigeria even though Hunter couldn't go with them. Laid up by surgery for a herniated disc, the coach nevertheless worked the phones from his bed, trying to get more shoes and enlist more coaches in the cause. He also did some serious soul-searching. The publicity from the shoes, along with his record in a tough situation, had increased his coaching stock to the point that IUPUI fans were worried about keeping him.
“For six weeks I had the time to think about my quality of life,” he said. “Sometimes we as coaches think that money is everything. But it's not. Coaching is what I do, but it's not what I am. There are a lot of places where I wouldn't be allowed to do the shoes thing because it takes up so much time, but IUPUI lets me do it. So my quality of life is terrific. I live in what I consider to be the best city in America and get to do what I believe God wants me to do. I'm supposed to be here. I'm very comfortable.”
But also very busy. Hunter concedes that his passion for the shoes program has grown to the point that it now amounts to a second full-time job. He's on the phone constantly, encouraging his fellow coaches to take shoes with them whenever they go overseas. Last August, the Bowling Green women's team, and the Bethune-Cookman men's team took shoes with them when they visited Central America.
The most important game on IUPUI's schedule is Oral Roberts on Jan. 17 at Conseco. That's the day that Hunter will coach barefoot again to dramatize the Samaritans Feet crusade and to honor Dr. King. He's been talking to ESPN about doing the game live and to the National Basketball Coaches Association about getting its endorsement. He hopes that at least half of all D-I coaches will work barefoot that day, including the coaches at IU, Purdue, and Butler. They won't play him, but maybe they'll join him.
Hunter believes his involvement with Samaritans Feet has made him a better teacher and given his players a perspective on life that's more important than anything they'll learn on the court.
“We take things for granted in this country,” Hunter said. “We're spoiled. Our kids want to have this particular brand or that particular brand. I've taken my team to places where kids come up to me and pray for a meal. It's been great for our kids and it's has brought them closer together. It's inspiring to see young people do things not only for the city and the institution, but for the world.”
Who would have thought that a coach from a curiously-named, easily-ignored school in Indiana could make such a difference? All told, more than two million shoes have been donated and distributed since Hunter first coached barefoot – and he wants the number to grow to five million by the end of this season.
Oh, yeah. There's also his other job. His day job, if you will. He also wants his Jaguars to be back in the hunt for the Summit championship and the program's second NCAA trip. The Jags return seven of last season's top eight scorers, led by forward Robert Glenn, whose 13.9 scoring average made him the Summit's “Newcomer of the Year.” Hunter also is excited about freshman Greg Rice, one of the best high school point guards in Indiana last season.
Whatever happens on the court, however, the nation will be watching the coach who not only talks the talk but walks the walk – literally and barefoot, at that. Without even thinking about it, Hunter has enhanced his profession's reputation by proving that even in these cynical, selfish times, there is, indeed, more to college basketball than winning games and making money and moving up the ladder.
Whenever he gets tired, he thinks about how he felt when he looked into the wide eyes of a barefoot urchin in Peru and told him he had run out of shoes. The memory haunts him in his dreams, but it's balanced by the encouragement he gets from his family, friends, colleagues, and, sometimes, unlikely sources.
“I do every speaking engagement I can,” Hunter says. “At one, there was this raggedy old guy in a wheelchair. As I was on the way out, he called me over and took off these old running shoes he had on. He said, 'Coach, I can't afford to buy a new pair of shoes, but take these.' He made me take them and I kept them as a reminder. I look at them every day.”
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