Oregon State Coach Wayne Tinkle has a pretty good starting five at his house

Many a night, Wayne Tinkle, who once coached Montana into three NCAA tournaments and has helmed Oregon State from 11-11 earlier this year to 19-12 and the Sweet 16 in arguably the best story left in this male March Madness, comes on home from another night at the mercy of the scoreboard. Often everybody’s there, as they’ve been this pandemic year. Sometimes, they begin consolation: “They know exactly what to say to make him know everything’s going to be okay,” Lisa McLeod Tinkle said of her daughters.

Sometimes, after wins, good grief: “We actually re-watch the games, it’s funny,” said Joslyn Tinkle, who played at Stanford (2009-13). Sometimes, after wins or losses, good grief: “We totally break down and debrief the game.” She really did use the word “debrief,” and also said: “We know what we’re talking about. We see it. ‘They didn’t quickly get to the help side,’ or, ‘They didn’t get back on transition D,’ or, ‘They didn’t rebound.’ ‘Maybe should have made this adjustment a little earlier.’ ”

Here’s a family where in normal years the father coached while the son, Tres, played for the father (2015-20, with 2,233 points and 882 rebounds), while the two daughters would sit at courtside and might just direct the defense on occasion, maybe tell players where to stand in the 1-3-1 zone. Elle Tinkle, who played at Gonzaga (2012-17), accuses Joslyn Tinkle of being the louder one, and Joslyn says she will yell, “Get to the corner, if they let a baseline runner somewhere behind them and don’t see them.” Also: “And I’m calling the lob.”

Sometimes, “Dad kind of gives me the eye. I’m like, ‘Okay, I’ll dial it back.’ ”

Here’s a family where the sisters moved to Portland after school so they could follow the college career of their little brother — they’re three grades apart in a neat sequence — partly out of gratitude toward him.

“They remember him towing his basketball to every tournament when they were playing,” their mother said.

Joslyn: “Yes, I remember, and we joke about it often. We’re traveling from gym to gym. I don’t know how much basketball he saw. He was constantly playing under the bleachers, getting stuck in some air vent, who knows?” Or he’d shoot threes at halftime and win two-liter sodas.

Let’s break down the quintet, while briefly omitting the Rottweilers and the Double Doodle Joslyn brings from Portland, where she shares a house with her sister, Elle, who would be the biggest hero of all these last 12-plus months. She’s a nurse.

There’s Lisa, 6-foot-2, who played at Montana from 1986-89. She scouts herself as “more of a defensive player” who “loved blocking shots” and “played for a really great coach in Robin Selvig,” after which she paused and said, “I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to talk about myself. I loved playing defense.” She undersells, of course. Her firstborn, Joslyn, says, “From what I hear and the stories, she was just tenacious. Great turnaround jumper, hook shot. Rebounding queen. Unstoppable in the paint. Good touch from six to 10 feet.” Joslyn points out, as they often do, that Lisa is the only family member in a university hall of fame, and one with that doozy of a name, the Grizzly Sports Hall of Fame.

There’s Wayne, 6-foot-10, whom Lisa met at Montana at a social gathering rather than under a basket, showing how life can be less evocative than movies. Joslyn: “A very strong big body, a great finesse post player, back to the basket, good moves. He could shoot the three. He would drop 60 points in rec games, because he definitely can step back. Great passer. A big man. Kind of can do it all. A great finesse player, great vision on the floor.” He played 11 years overseas in Sweden, Spain, Italy, Greece. “He was a very unselfish player,” his wife said, pointing out he wouldn’t shoot the ball even as he had a father who’d yell from the stands, “‘Shoot the ball!’ ”

Joslyn, 6-foot-3: “A McDonald’s all-American coming out of high school” (Lisa) … “A good mix of both my parents” (Joslyn) … “A beautiful outside shot, very smooth” (Lisa) … Recruited as a post player, but, “When I got to Stanford, my coaches really wanted to develop my guard skills” (Joslyn) …

Elle, 6-foot-2 (who played the most games, 143, in Gonzaga program history): “By far the most athletic one” (Joslyn) … “You put her on their best player” (Lisa) … “She was actually a great track athlete (Joslyn) … “Very tenacious on defense” (Lisa) …

And Tres, 6-foot-7: “Kind of like the Swiss Army knife” (his mother) … “Man, he was so fun to watch. He was so crafty, a lot like my dad, where he had such a great IQ” (the elder of his sisters) … Joslyn said he’s been honing his defensive lateral movement — he’s on the Toronto Raptors’ G League roster — and calls him “deceptively athletic.”

His senior-season ending got snuffed out last spring with the coronavirus, but in his last tournament game for Oregon State, the day before things went kaput nationwide in March 2020, he graced the game-winning play with, yep, an assist, and at the same tournament in 2019, he pegged a loss with how the Beavers “didn’t have very good spacing moving within.” But every viewer spotted that. Sure.

So they grew up in Europe and the American West without basketballs forced into their faces. They motivated themselves. They never had to be coaxed into going outside to get some shots. When they played in the driveway, “Somebody always left in tears,” Lisa said. When a first-grade Joslyn lost a 3-on-3 game at the famed Hoopfest in Spokane against some hardy sorts from Idaho, and she tried to exit the game with a hurt finger, her father supplied a gentle lecture on the drive home: “ ‘Jos, you’ve got to be tougher than that. That’s not acceptable. You can’t be subbing yourself out.’ And I’ll tell you,” Joslyn said, “it never happened again.”

Their father’s size intimidated prospective boyfriends, even as Joslyn calls him “such a kind, kind soul” and says, “I’ll do this without trying to get emotional: My dad is such a great man.”

Now they’re at this moment of which Wayne Tinkle said, “I mean, this is an unbelievable ride we’re on.” Now they’re in the stands in Las Vegas for the Pac-12 tournament, here for the NCAA tournament, flying back and forth, and you can just tell the four viewers understand the meaning of this in all their 824 bones. It’s too bad Tres has finished playing for Oregon State, but he has watched in the jerseys of various Beavers.

“He’s knee deep in it with us; so are my wife and daughters,” Wayne Tinkle said. “They’re passionate. They’re loyal. I just wish I could share it with them. We walked through Victory Field the other day” — that’s the Indianapolis Class AAA baseball stadium provided for fresh air for those in the bubble here — “stood about 12 feet apart just to visit there outside the fence. We’ll find time. I’m so appreciative of them.”

When they find time, they might even re-watch some things.