He does it in airports, on airplanes, in his home-office in south Florida or at any of the dozens of interchangeable chain hotel rooms he stays in during the college basketball season. The location doesn't matter. Nor does the size of the screen.
Bill Raftery, now entering his fourth decade as a color analyst on college basketball broadcasts, just needs to play one of the many DVDs he's always carrying of various games—Illinois vs. Northwestern, Arkansas vs. Tennessee—and bring out his trusty yellow pad. Then he can get going on the highly detailed scouting reports that have been at the heart of his broadcast work since he first picked up a microphone full-time at the start of the 1981-82 college basketball season.
"Most of this stuff, you'll never get it into a broadcast," Mr. Raftery said recently over a cup of coffee and hundreds of pages of handwritten research. "But you like to know it anyway."
Most color analysts—the wing men to play-by-play announcers, filling pauses with analysis, background and the occasional exclamation—have to do their homework. But broadcasters say that no one can match the research of Mr. Raftery, who at 69 has become one of the best known color analysts for college basketball in the country. Known for his regular-guy persona, "Raf," as he is known, appears on ESPN, where he has been a mainstay of the network's coverage of the Big East Conference since the 1980s, and is one of the lead color analysts for college basketball on CBS.
Produced while he watches a half-dozen tapes of each team he's assigned to cover, Mr. Raftery's one-page, double-sided reports are written in capital letters and a tiny, crowded scrawl. But his 60-odd team reports are also meticulously structured and filled with countless diagrams, notes on player tendencies, strategic predictions and statistics that could only be the work of a person whose life is set to the rhythm of balls bouncing on wood.
The reports "are like the random etchings of John Nash from 'A Beautiful Mind,' " said Ian Eagle, the CBS play-by-play announcer who has worked alongside Mr. Raftery for years. But, Mr. Eagle added, "because his personality is so strong and effervescent, his basketball preparation often gets overlooked."
Mr. Raftery has a few signature idioms—"A little kiSSSS of the glass…" when a soft bank shot drops in. Centers are always called "the big fella." But he also blurts out tidbits buried in his research in half-sentence exclamations and observations.
His report on Villanova this year recommends that opponents focus on exchanging defensive assignments, known as "switching," in the middle of a play. When the University of Connecticut failed to do so during a January broadcast, Mr. Raftery said: "No exchange. Stay at home. And [coach] Jim Calhoun is not a happy guy."
Basketball color analyst Bill Raftery carries a stack of DVDs in his briefcase wherever he goes.
It can take Mr. Raftery several hours to get through a single, 40-minute college basketball game. His fingers are constantly on the rewind and fast-forward buttons so he can make sure his diagrams match the plays he is watching.
During games Mr. Raftery keeps a notebook open to a page where he has written each player's season average for minutes played, rebounds, assists, points, three-pointers, field goal percentage, steals and blocks. Writing down the numbers himself helps him commit them to memory.
After he got cut from the Knicks in 1963, Mr. Raftery spent 16 years as a head coach, first at Fairleigh-Dickinson University and then at Seton Hall, compiling a 217-189 record before the era when even mediocre college basketball coaches became multimillionaires and some of the biggest stars in sports. In 1981 he jumped at a job doing color commentary for weekly Big East Conference games, figuring it would eventually pay more than his $50,000 salary. When it came time to prepare, he began the same routine he followed as a coach.
Over the years, the exercise evolved into the intricate system he uses today. On the far left side of the page, Mr. Raftery writes down each player's name and number. Next are the player's habits and tendencies, as few as three or as many as seven. This season's report on University of Connecticut guard Kemba Walker noted his "Walt Frazier-like moves" and his "Floater-pull-up game" (his ability to stop swiftly and land the softest of shots). Last year's report on Gonzaga's Demetri Goodson included: "Gets in Lane and finishes" and "Big Shot vs. W. Ky." (noting the player's ability to perform in the clutch).
Down the middle of the page Mr. Raftery draws a series of diagrams of offensive sets, anywhere from 10 to 24 for each team. "Backdoor." "America's Play." "Motion 1." Look at enough reports, and you'll find just about everything you see on a basketball court. It's a maze of numbers, rectangles that open on one end (symbolizing the foul lane), curving arrows and straight lines that depict ball and player movement. A third column lists the team's tendencies. Among the 22 he noted for last year's Wisconsin squad were "Love pick-and-pop to open side for [John] Leuer," meaning the team likes to set low picks and pass the ball outside for makeable shots.
On the bottom right corner, Mr. Raftery lists strategic moves that might beat this team. He wants to see University of Minnesota opponents focus on minimizing guard Blake Hoffarber's unguarded shots. Against Xavier, lay off guard Mark Lyons and lure him into shooting three-pointers. "It's just a little game I play," he said. Most of his research gets done in the morning or early afternoon. Mr. Raftery said he occasionally has "a couple of pops" at dinner, after which he isn't as sharp as his research requires.
On the morning of broadcasts, he lies on the bed in his hotel room, memorizing as much of his notes as he can. The result: natural reactions. "Virtually nothing I say is premeditated," he said. "It just sort of flows."