Oregon’s practice ended 30 minutes ago, yet Jermaine Couisnard remains on the court working on his 3-point shot. Couisnard shuffles around the arc, needing to knock down five shots at each spot before he can move on to the next.
It’s his third time through the drill, when his shirt comes off.
“You trying to look good for the cameras?” Oregon head coach Dana Altman says, calling over from the media scrum.
“Nah,” Couisnard says. “I need to knock down some shots.”
That’s how Couisnard’s always viewed the game of basketball. It’s what he was taught growing up in East Chicago, where, as a sixth grader, his father encouraged him to play against high schoolers and grown men on the neighborhood’s blacktop court. It’s not about looking good for the cameras.
As a senior, he plays with that same gritty energy. But Couisnard’s overall approach has matured recently after he learned basketball was just inches away from being taken from him. He’s changed the way he prepares and he’s learned to “take no day for granted.” It’s shown with his performances in Oregon’s most significant games this season.
“You never know when the ball is going to stop bouncing for you,” Couisnard said.
That rang true when Couisnard sustained a non-contact injury and tore his patellar tendon in late October.
“The doctor was telling me: if there was a slightly greater tear it could have ended my career,” he said.
With that reality in mind, the three months he was sidelined doesn’t compare to the worst case scenario. He spent most of his time in rehab, recovery or sitting on the scorer’s table at practice.
He observed the care that fellow seniors Will Richardson and N’Faly Dante put into their preparation before a practice or game and vowed that when he came back, he would mimic that process.
When Couisnard was at the University of South Carolina last year before transferring to Oregon, he would rarely stretch or take warm-up shots before practice. On game day, he would sleep in-between the shootaround and tipoff, but now he feels staying awake and ready results in a more productive outcome.
“It’s cool going to nap, but I learned that I’m drowsy,” Couisnard said. “Now my mind’s prepared when I stay up for the game.”
Couisnard curated a routine best suited for his personal health.
He took it upon himself to encourage his teammates from the sidelines or offer advice that could improve the game plan. He envisioned his own role on the team: as a shot creator and a facilitator that could play off of Richardson.
When that period commenced, he required little ramp-up time, adapting to the play style of his new teammates.
Before each game, he’d let his mind wander back to his doctor’s words, and the time his dad’s friends, Kyum Gillis and Bobby Smith, made him cry on the outdoor courts in East Chicago. Being the youngest player there — a kid amongst grown men — didn’t excuse Couisnard from the trash talk that came with the environment. At times, over 100 spectators would crowd the court, hollering insults and expletives.
He struggled to block it out. Could you blame him? People who loved him, who had his goodwill in mind, were using their words to put him down.
“Ever since that day, I never let nobody get under my skin,” Couisnard said.
That mindset, coupled with the wait to return from injury, was evident in the Ducks’ matchups against No. 8 Arizona and No. 4 UCLA. Two of the few home games this season where the crowd was filled with rowdy fans, who, unlike Gillis and Smith, weren’t jeering for his best interest.
In Oregon’s 70-63 loss to the Bruins, he set an example with his activity. It was noticeable in his eyes that, despite the 12-point deficit the Ducks faced with nine minutes remaining, he sensed an opportunity for a surge.
It started by running the floor and opening himself up as an outlet, on consecutive possessions. The first resulted in a layup, and the next a 3. He then picked up guard Jaylen Clark full court and swiped the ball off Clark’s leg, forcing a turnover. Couisnard remained on the floor clapping, his actions willing the crowd back into the game.
That energy lent itself to a win against Arizona.
The Arizona game was just his fourth since returning from injury. The Ducks sat at 9-8 needing a statement win to strengthen their résumé. Couisnard had played with a minutes cap and had yet to find his shot, but Altman seemingly lifted the restriction and elected to put him in the starting lineup.
The Wildcats’ starters responded to the crowd by setting a chippy tone, not all that dissimilar from the one present in Couisnard’s youth pickup games.
“I knew we needed this game. I knew we needed toughness,” Couisnard said. “I feel like what got me prepared for that was playing outside.”
Midway through the first half, he overthrew a streaking Dante on an alley-oop, but the ball luckily found its way through the net. That’s when he knew he knew it was his night.
He capped off the season-high 27-point performance with a step-back 3 to put the Ducks up 87-68, celebrating it by turning to the crowd with his arms out and raised.
“These are the games people are going to remember,” Couisnard said. “The Arizona game — it was the first time I let everything go.”
“He’s got a lot of experience,” forward Nate Bittle said. “He’s always talking to us about what we need to do better. Therefore, having him as a part of our team for this final stretch will be good.”
That ability to rise with the stakes of a game is something Couisnard said he doesn’t see in everyone. It’s not one of those traits that comes naturally to a basketball player, like athleticism or coachability, per se; it’s a byproduct of lived experiences, one his teammates will surely value as they near Pac-12 Tournament play.
Seemingly Wildcats’ guard Kerr Kriisa — who’s infamous for chirping — wasn’t as well-versed on how Couisnard would respond when he tried to get under his skin, on Jan. 14.
“[Arizona] was playing me dirty, trying to get me to start talking,” Couisnard said. “I guess they got what they wanted.”
While Couisnard declined to share the specific words they exchanged, he clearly embraced Kriisa’s antics. Back-and-forths like that have always lit a fire under him.
