J.L. Reppert’s voice booms through the Maryland men’s lacrosse team’s film room April 26.
The offensive coordinator is reviewing his unit’s performance in the Terps’ 10-8 win over Ohio State two days earlier, and he’s bursting with instruction.
“Connor,” he bellows to midfielder Connor Kelly, “don’t let that guy push you around!”
“What should we do, Colin?” Reppert asks, turning his attention to attackman Colin Heacock. “Go wide there. Wide, wide, wide!”
Another clip. Another player. Another correction.
Attackmen Tyler Brooke and Ian Robertson, two of the squad’s nearly 50 players sitting in the rising rows of black leather seats, don’t hear their names. They didn’t make mistakes against the Buckeyes. They didn’t play.
Brooke and Robertson are members of the scout team and spend almost every game on the sideline, but they listen while the coaches review their teammates’ performances. About an hour later, the meeting shifts to preparing for the match with Johns Hopkins.
For the duo the team calls two of the program’s most instrumental players every Monday through Friday, that’s when the work begins.
‘HUSTLE’
When Reppert finishes, defensive coordinator Kevin Conry takes the stool for the defensive critiques.
He calls out to defenders Matt Dunn, Tim Muller and Greg Danseglio. He asks Dunn and midfielder Isaiah-Davis Allen questions. Then he pleads for “re-dodging” and sound fundamentals.
As he flips between clips, the word ‘Hustle’ pops up.
That’s what Brooke and Robertson force the Terps’ eighth-ranked defense to do in every practice.
Brooke and Robertson spend about 90 minutes a day studying film of their assigned player on the scouting report, learning passing tendencies, shooting distances, and hand preferences. Then the scout team — dubbed “Gibby and the Boys,” a nod to fellow attackman Colin Giblin — challenges the Terps defenders.
While their teammates dress in red or white pinnies with ‘Maryland’ blazed across the chest, the scouts wear plain black or white jerseys with their assigned player’s number.
The first half of practice focuses on positional work and ground ball drills. The Terps then split into short-field scenarios for six-on-six and man-up game-planning.
Robertson and Brooke’s approach to the latter portion differs every week.
Brooke often replicates an opponent’s Canadian player because he’s left-handed, the way many Canadians play. Brooke must also adapt to their other tendencies, using one hand and playing at a free-flowing pace.
The role is a far cry from when Brooke arrived in College Park as a freshman. He was coming off a four-year varsity career at Conestoga High School that ended in three straight state championships and garnered interest from Virginia, North Carolina and Duke, among other programs. Four years later, Brooke rarely sees the field. He hasn’t scored since his freshman year but accepts the responsibilities Tillman gives him.
“He has been proud and a thousand percent dialed into his role on the team since Day 1,” his mom, Susan, said.
Robertson has the same commitment. Before the game against Albany on March 16, he played as Great Danes attackman Seth Oakes, who scores down low. That week, Robertson kept his stick in one hand and abandoned the top-dodging maneuvers he prefers.
Last season in preparation for Princeton, which averaged about 15 goals entering the match, the duo scored at ease. Come game day, though, the backline limited the Tigers to four points.
“They gave us a better look at what Princeton had been running than what Princeton did on game day,” said former defender Casey Ikeda, who was also Conestoga teammates with Brooke.
And if they don’t meet those expectations, Conry lets them know.
After a loss to Yale on Feb. 27, the coach told the group to not be complacent. Brooke and Robertson echoed the message to the reserves, calling for more hustle. The Terps have gone 11-1 since then.
“Showing the younger guys ‘Hey, look. You’re not getting as much playing time as you want, but this is the standard here. We show up. We practice. We make other players better,'” Danseglio said. “That’s something that I really look up to.”
‘OPPORTUNITY’
As Conry wraps up his critiques, Tillman moves in front of the screen.
He awards game balls to attackman Matt Rambo, defender Mike McCarney, midfielder Pat Young and faceoff specialist Andrew Walsh, the latter of whom saw time at the X after injuries left the Terps shorthanded.
Then Tillman recognizes the team’s practice players of the week: Brooke and defender Curtis Corley. When the sixth-year coach highlights Brooke, attackman Tim Rotanz turns from his front-row seat for a high five. Brooke’s eyes light up, and he exclaims “Hey, that’s me.”
“You just never know when your opportunity is going to present itself,” Tillman directs to Walsh and the reserves. “It might not be on your terms. You get it whenever the team needs you.”
That’s the mindset Robertson maintains each season. He came to Maryland expecting to have a game-day role when he transferred from Delaware after a freshman season. With the Blue Hens, he totaled eight starts and 15 points en route to earning CAA All-Rookie Team honors.
He grew up in Salem, Virginia, playing lacrosse with his three brothers for hours after school. In middle school, Robertson was invited to join the Philadelphia-based Duke’s Lacrosse Club, a premiere prep team. The family spent almost every weekend during the summers driving six hours to and from games. As a high school junior and senior, Robertson boarded at St. Anne’s-Belfield School in Charlottesville, Virginia, to play against top competition, too.
“The words lacrosse and sacrifice,” Robertson’s father, John, said, “both of those go hand and hand when it comes to Ian.”
But upon arriving in College Park, Robertson learned “things aren’t what you expect.” He’s managed one goal in his three seasons in red and black.
So he entered his senior year wanting to be a veteran leader and preparing for an potential on-field opportunity.
While interning with IBM in Chicago this past summer, Robertson spent an hour every day after work in an alley a few blocks from his apartment running wind sprints and playing wall ball against the backside of a train station.
Last Christmas, as soon as the family finished eating, Robertson and his brothers raced outside. Robertson and his two younger brothers — one a Johns Hopkins commit and the other slated to play for Princeton — formed a attack to go against the eldest, Matt, who played goalkeeper for Virginia from 2013 to 2014.
“They take a bucket of balls out there as a lot of people are enjoying Christmas Day,” his father said. “He’s just a grinder.”
While Robertson’s preparation hasn’t translated to much playing time, the duo relishes their impact as scouts.
Early in the season, Brooke told his mom the coaches recognized him as the week’s hardest worker. She asked him if that meant he would play in games this year.
“His jaw dropped,” his mom recalled, “and he said ‘Mom, I play every year.'”
Brooke’s younger sister, Sarah, has dealt with a similar situation as a freshman defender at Franklin & Marshall. She was worried she wouldn’t get playing time ahead of her talented teammates.
So Brooke sent her a text message.
The number of minutes she’s on the field each game is a small percentage of what it means to be on the team, he said, and if she’s working hard, she should never feel inadequate.
“She’s seen what my deal has been — not being on the field on Saturdays,” Brooke said, “so I just told her to stick with it.”
“I mean, I love this place no matter how much I get on the field.”
‘BE ACCOUNTABLE’
After a rundown of the team’s scouting report on Johns Hopkins — the coaches will distribute a more detailed version later — Tillman takes the floor again, this time with a measured voice.
Their time is short, he tells his players. They have a maximum of seven more games together if they can advance to a repeat national championship appearance. He wants the players to ” be accountable” to one another on and off the field.
Then the players bound out of the room for practice. It’s time for Robertson and Brooke’s favorite week of the season.
There was extra edge during the practices, sprinkled with a bit of trash talk, because “we always want to win, but we want it even more when it’s Hopkins,” Robertson said.
The 5-foot-9 attackman draws the assignment of Blue Jays star attackman Ryan Brown whenever the squads clash. Coaches tell Robertson “bombs away,” meaning he should be a threat to shoot from anywhere within 20 yards of the cage.
The 6-foot-3 Brooke, meanwhile, doubled as Johns Hopkins midfielder Holden Cattoni.
Brooke also suggested the coaches play Johns Hopkins’ fight song, which its pep band blares after each of the team’s goals, to help the defenders acclimate to Homewood Field’s atmosphere. So a Bluetooth speaker sat on top of goalkeeper Kyle Bernlohr’s cage one afternoon and rang with the tune whenever a scout canned a shot.
It was slight revenge for the beatings they took during the “survivor drill” earlier in the sessions. In the sequence, the attack scouts wait on the crease, redirecting feeds. The defenders, meanwhile, use long, padded poles to whack the stick out of the players’ hands.
“Getting extra checks is sometimes hard,” Brooke said. “It’s not really anything I wish didn’t happen because I know it makes our defense better.”
The physicality paid off, as the Terps held the Blue Jays to five goals below their season average Saturday.
For much of the title-clinching contest, Brooke and Robertson stood on the sideline, shouting the defensive play calls upon recognizing looks. When Maryland opened a late five-goal lead, the pair took to the turf.
It was moments like that week, one in which they watched the defense excel and also joined them on the field, that Robertson and Brooke mentioned the next day at the team’s annual father-son pig roast.
As the seniors reflected on memories and gave advice to younger teammates, Brooke spoke about the loving the physical practices, jokes and nicknames. Robertson admitted his on-field expectations for Maryland didn’t translate, but the brotherhood he found satisfied his search after transferring.
There was no time for sentimentality the next day, however, as the Terps returned to the Varsity Team House to begin preparation for this weekend’s Big Ten Tournament.
It’s another week. Another meeting. Another scout for Robertson and Brooke to master.
“When I think about what it means to be a Terp,” Cole said, “I think about those two guys.”
