Even before he turned the University of Wisconsin men's basketball program into a Big Ten powerhouse, William "Bo" Ryan had made a name for himself in this state as a highly successful, street-smart coach.

First at UW-Platteville and then at UW-Milwaukee, Ryan displayed a magnificent understanding of the dedication, resources and personnel required to build a championship program.

In his three decades in Wisconsin, the Pennsylvania native has ingrained into the basketball parlance here terms such as "The Swing" (his style of offense, which stresses players' roles as interchangeable parts) and "The Hill" (conditioning on a hand-picked incline that becomes a proving ground for players).

Elements of Ryan's personality and coaching style are revealed throughout his recently released autobiography, "Bo Ryan: Another Hill to Climb," which was co-authored by Capital Times columnist Mike Lucas.

Following is the first offering in a two-part excerpt of the book, chronicling Ryan's youth in the Philadelphia suburb of Chester.

Another excerpt will appear in next week's issue of The Cap Times.

Playing defense in high school was often a numbers game for me. I guarded players who later had their jerseys retired, and hanging from the rafters. That was a reflection of the competition we faced in southeast Pennsylvania.

Chester was a tradition-rich basketball school in a sports-friendly community -- 10 miles south of Philadelphia on the Delaware River.

Chester was the oldest city in the state and home to Joe Klecko, the old Jet; Danny Murtaugh, the old Pirate; and Bill Haley and the Comets, the old rockers.

I grew up listening to the Temptations, the Four Tops, Marvin Gaye, and Chubby Checker.

I grew up dancing the Twist, the Pony, the Mashed Potato, and the Bristol Stomp.

I grew up playing defense.

Playing for the Chester High Clippers, I drew the opponent's top gun, though I got help from my teammates, whether we were playing straight-up or a specialty defense. When we were in a box-and-one, I was the principal defender, man-to-man.

Our league schedule was challenging from that standpoint because of offensive threats like Upper Darby's Bobby Lloyd, who went on to have his college number retired. Lloyd was an All-American, and the all-time leading scorer at Rutgers University.

Outside our conference, I took on Geoff Petrie, who played at Springfield High School in Delaware County before moving on to Princeton. Petrie later had his number retired with the Portland Trail Blazers of the NBA.

(In case you're wondering, I wore No. 42 at home and No. 43 on the road, and the numbers are still available as far as I know. At least they didn't retire my jersey when I was still in it.)

When Chester played Cheltenham, a Philly suburb, their leading scorer demanded extra attention because he was so physically imposing. He was built like someone who had been bench-pressing all his life even though nobody was really lifting weights in the early '60s.

The guy was just chiseled, and he knew how to use his strength and athleticism to slash to the rim. He later had his number retired, too -- No. 44 with the New York Yankees.

Reggie Jackson was a natural.