Want to make Joe Scott '87 smile?
Don't ask him about backdoor cuts and defensive shifts. Don't ask him about Quakers and Elis.
Ask him about his kids.
He'll talk about his four-year-old son Ben, beaming as he recalls how Ben managed to stand up on his waterskis this summer at the Jersey Shore.
He'll talk about his two-year-old son Jack, even grinning as he explains that he does diaper duty in the mornings.
Yes, Scott smiles plenty — just rarely on the basketball court.
"This persona everyone sees and thinks I have, it's really just the opposite," he says. "As soon as I walk off the court, I'm not like that."
On the court, in his first season as head coach of the men's basketball team, Scott delivered a level of intensity not seen in Jadwin Gym since Pete Carril patrolled the sidelines. Scott spent most games hopping mad, yelling at referees and his players as if they had just run over his puppy. This is a man who makes George Patton look laid-back.
And yet, believe it or not, Scott has a lighter side.
Nothing brings out that lighter side like his kids. Director of Athletic Communications Jerry Price has seen it, watching Scott play with a class of nursery school children that both of their children were in.
"He looks like a big kid with 20 threeand four-year-olds around him," Price says. "He has this giant smile on his face, and he's a complete natural with them."
Ben and Jack are a frequent presence in Jadwin Gym, tagging along with their mother, Leah Spraragen '92, a former Tiger hoops star and assistant coach. She knows the image her husband has and understands that allowing the players to see Scott interact with his kids "allows them to have a vision into a different side of him."

But watching Scott play with his kids isn't the only time players get to see the lighter side of their coach. Over the past year, Scott has taken his team bowling, played slow-pitch softball with them and organized an impromptu whiffleball game in Jadwin Gym a few weeks ago.
Of course, Scott isn't exactly relaxed during these 'friendly' competitions.
"He's the best slow-pitch softball shortstop I've ever seen," senior forward Luke Owings says. "And he's kind of competitive."
As the son of a high school baseball coach, Scott grew up playing — and excelling at — a variety of sports, ending up as an All-State baseball player.
These days, arguing about sports and tossing around sports trivia is how Scott relaxes, explains good friend and former assistant coach Chris Mooney '94.
"On the road, we met down in the lobby and talked for hours," Mooney says, "just hanging out and joking around."
Joking around? Scott?
He's actually a funny guy, well trained in the Carrilian sarcastic tradition. The media is often privy to flashes of that sense of humor in post-game press conferences — after wins, at least — but that's nothing compared to what his team gets.
"He makes the most obscure references," senior captain and guard Scott Greenman explains. "After practice sometimes, we'll sit around the locker room discussing what his best line of the day was."
Take, for instance, the afternoon when one of his players dribbled the ball off his foot and out of bounds. Instead of ranting and raving, Scott stopped practice and asked a simple question: "You know who stole that ball?"
The Tigers stared back at him, trying to figure out what on earth their coach was talking about now.
"Ralph Ellison stole that ball," Scott exclaimed excitedly. "The invisible man — he stole it!"
Highbrow literary humor isn't just Scott's way of reminding his players that he, too, went to Princeton. Making jokes, playing whiffleball, interacting with his kids — it all serves a purpose: assuring his players that no matter how much he yells at them, it's only because he cares.
"What we're doing here is hard, but we're in this together," Scott says, the intensity visible in his eyes. "It's extremely important that they know that we're on their side."
They know. Even as he screams at them, they know. And whether or not they believe that he kicks back and relaxes, whether or not they believe he has a lighter side, the ranting and raving coach and his players might just be able to agree on how to have a good time.
"He gets really, really good [at basketball] for fun," Owings says. "It's fun for him, and it's becoming fun for us."