What does it take to be a great basketball player? Not good, like a high school team or someone dominating in pickup. I mean great. A little research tells me it’s about more than high level athleticism. A great player needs willpower. Coachability. Determination. An understanding that the game is about far more than one person scoring a ton of points. 

But what happens when you have an athlete who possesses all those traits, hell, a whole team of them? What happens if that team does nearly everything right, and they still lose? A lot of athletes and teams can relate to that, the idea that after you’ve trained, visualized, and bled, after all that, you feel the bottom drop out of your stomach. You feel like you were so close to winning, you could taste it, and in the end…you didn’t. 

That’s the tragedy* of the 2022 Southern Conference Men’s Basketball Championship. The finals took place on March 7, with the University of Tennessee at Chattanooga Mocs against the Furman University Paladins. By all accounts, the game was intense, and both teams pushed themselves past their limits. The end came in overtime, with 4.7 seconds to go. David Jean-Baptiste of Chattanooga made a three-pointer that did two things. First, it secured Chattanooga the championship. Second, it shattered the hopes of Furman. The documentary Better Together: Furman’s Championship Quest follows the team as they pick up the pieces.

We learn that the 2022 finals were particularly heartbreaking, since the last time Furman made it that far was all the way back in 1980. For 43 years, Furman had to put up with getting kicked in the teeth, and in 2023, Head Coach Bob Richey was determined to end the drought. How to do that? By following the mantra of “better together” in all things.

Richey uses the pain of their loss as a motivator, but it’s important to understand that Richey doesn’t motivate his team or himself through grievance. Instead, he’s forthright about where the team went wrong and where they could have improved. He laser-focuses on the concept of the team being a family, one where everyone looks out for one another, protects one another, and pushes one another to be their best. 

The team works hard, incredibly so. They aren’t just skilled, they learn that teamwork trumps skill. A few patterns emerge. One of which is Furman’s overconfidence toward teams they usually beat, and how that overconfidence comes back to bite them. Jalen Slawson, a player of rare ability, says regarding a loss to North Carolina, “They beat the cowboy shit out of us.”** The lesson they take from the loss is not to let one game affect the next game. Richey tells them, “This can either be a stepping stone or a stumbling block.”

A quick word about Bob Richey; he’s shouty. I don’t mean he’s a loud dick like Bobby Knight, though he’s loud. How loud is he? He’s so loud, there are numerous moments in different games where the team is huddled up and Richey positively bellows his strategies. I kept waiting for the opposing team to say, “Dude…we can all hear you.” We see him repeatedly yell at referees for bad calls, thunder at his players for mistakes, and positively shatter the sound barrier when his team doesn’t conduct themselves appropriately. Richey isn’t one of those guys who’s called “tough” when everyone really means he’s a bully. He has a code, and he expects everyone to follow it, particularly himself.

Writer/director Richmond Weaver has made a good documentary that’s split into five twenty five-ish minute episodes. To my mind, it would have worked better as a more focused ninety minute feature. Weaver’s work is propulsive when it needs to be, though he doesn’t fall into the trap of making every game a close one. Furman dominates in some of the games, and Weaver has the sophistication to portray that. 

Otherwise, Weaver digs deep into the intimacy, though it’s a specific kind of intimacy. He shows us this group of men grappling with a shared defeat, and how they use it as fuel. Yet there’s always a sense that the team needs to prove themselves, to earn their way back. While they occasionally get cocky, they don’t feel entitled. 

Having said that, it’s basketball-only intimacy. While we get a strong sense of Richey’s leadership, Slawson’s fiery intensity, and the laid back humor of player Mike Bothwell, there’s zero focus on who these guys are off the court and out of the locker room. I have almost no idea what Richey and his players are like when they’re not training/playing/celebrating/licking their wounds, and I would have appreciated more examination of their individual motivations. On top of that, I would have liked a little time with the team’s families, the people that aren’t actively playing or coaching basketball. What is all this like if you’re someone almost, but not quite, on the inside?***

Still, Better Together: Furman’s Championship Quest is good filmmaking, and it comes at a necessary time. Our country is massively polarized, and despite too much talk of winning, many of us feel like we’re falling further behind. We need stories about how to deal with defeat, how to work our way back, and how an unlikely victory can be possible. The players and coaching staff of the Furman Paladins remind us that winning only really happens when we lift each other up, have each other’s backs. Together. 

*Though it certainly wasn’t a tragedy for Chattanooga. In the end, this stuff is all relative.

**A phrase I’ve never heard but will now use constantly.

***I get that, if you’re a basketball fan, the relentless focus on nothing but basketball here is awesome. And I also get that this is like someone complaining that the John Wick movies need more moments of quiet introspection when everyone really wants the Baba Yaga to just go HAM.

Tim Brennan Movie Critic

Tim has been alarmingly enthusiastic about movies ever since childhood. He grew up in Boulder and, foolishly, left Colorado to study Communications in Washington State. Making matters worse, he moved to Connecticut after meeting his too-good-for-him wife. Drawn by the Rockies and a mild climate, he triumphantly returned and settled down back in Boulder County. He's written numerous screenplays, loves hiking, and embarrassed himself in front of Samuel L. Jackson. True story.