Basketball at Whittier Is Purity in Motion

For those who appreciate basketball in its purest form, go watch Whittier High.

From the opening jump ball to the game’s final seconds, every player is constantly moving his hands and feet as if powered by a never-ending energy surge.

“Our job is to go 32 minutes nonstop,” forward Michael Hernandez said.

Players dive for loose balls, crash into walls and gladly sacrifice their bodies for the simple reward of setting an impenetrable screen.

“It’s put into our minds right from practice that we go all out,” point guard Adam De La Torre said.

Two years ago, Whittier finished 1-9 in the Del Rio League. Then the third coach in three years, Michael Varos, arrived.

“He came in and turned around the whole program,” center Eric Woodward said.

Whittier went 21-6 last season and won the league championship. The Cardinals are 13-3 this season.

Varos, 34, teaches math and physical education. He played basketball at Montebello Schurr, Rio Hondo College and Cal State Los Angeles. His coaching philosophy is based on the belief that hard work leads to success.

“You do have some doors closed,” Varos said. “But you dig under or climb over.”

When Whittier’s players stand side by side, they hardly strike fear in opponents. Woodward, a water polo player, is the tallest at 6 feet 7. Hernandez, with curly black hair and sideburns, is 6-2. The rest are mostly 5-11 or smaller.

They play hard at all times and use the endurance picked up from running cross-country to ignite their full-court press, which forces turnovers and creates chaos for unprepared opponents.

Many of Whittier’s players didn’t want to run cross-country, but they trusted their coach.

“It was pretty intense and we got tired,” De La Torre said. “We never gave up. We were pushing each other.”

Running cross-country is almost like making it through a Whittier practice session. The gym opens, the whistle blows and for the first 65 minutes, it’s an intense, nonstop workout designed to simulate a game.

Anyone at Whittier can join the team before the season. Varos has a “no-cut” policy. Making it through a practice session, though, requires Marine-like survival skills.

“Whoever can survive gets a jersey,” De La Torre said. “It’s not scrimmaging back and forth. For the first week, it’s just defense.”

Hernandez is the team’s best player. He could be the star in the Latino version of the movie, “White Men Can’t Jump.” Whittier has an out-of-bounds play in which Hernandez receives a lob pass in the key to take advantage of his jumping ability. He scored 34 points in the championship game of the La Salle tournament.

“I love this game,” he said.

He has been on the varsity since his freshman year and was at first resistant to Varos’ discipline. But he soon embraced the changes.

“To become a good player, you have to help others,” Hernandez said. “There are a lot of walls and he’s helping me jump over them.”

De La Torre is the 5-8 senior point guard who follows Varos’ directions.

“I call him my warrior, the general,” Varos said. “The offense runs through him.”

Uli Ruiz is a 5-9 junior guard who’s nicknamed circo, Spanish for circus.

“He’s enthralled by the NBA game, the no-look pass, the between-the-legs dribble,” Varos said. “He always has the circus pass. I call him the Swiss army knife because he can play any spot on the court.”

Michael Bailey is a 5-10 junior guard who plays with the most emotion. Varos has known Bailey’s family for 15 years.

“He’s more like an older brother,” Bailey said. “When I’m having hard times, he’s always there for me. He’s a good person.”

After receiving a Whittier jersey, a player becomes part of the basketball family. And that’s what Varos believes is most important. He’s teaching his players family values.

“I’m a yeller,” he said. “They’ve come to understand it’s tough love. At one time or another, they all thought of quitting. I truly believe this is their experience, not mine. I’m hoping they become good fathers, good husbands. I truly believe this is much bigger than basketball.”

Every coach would get a good night of sleep, win or lose, if he or she felt the players played their hardest and did their best.

At Whittier, Varos can sleep well because his players are following his directions above and beyond what a coach expects.

As Hernandez put it, “He trains us to play 32 minutes or more. We’re just going to leave it on the floor.”

It’s high school basketball at its best.

Eric Sondheimer can be reached at

eric.sondheimer@latimes.com