Confused as much as shocked, I listened to Dean explain that he thought I had not paid sufficient adulation to Bear Bryant–Coach Bryant–in a recent story I had done on his establishment of a record number of football-coaching victories. Hence, in deference to his esteemed fellow coach, Dean was sorry, but he would not descend, in dialogue, to my blasphemous level.
Dean and I did speak a few more times, always most civilly, but he would talk to me only about why he would not talk to me. Likewise, through it all, Dean remained exceptionally considerate of my task; he made no other attempts to inhibit my efforts to do the piece. Sometimes, in fact, I interviewed his assistants about him only a few feet away from where he was sitting. Coach Smith had made his point; he didn’t have to run up the score on me.
My story, highly favorable of the silent subject, appeared without comment from him, and in the years since, I have had cordial relations with Dean. Of course, although I never let on, even if I disagreed with his judgment and his rationale, I much admired the stand he had taken against me on principled be- half of an honored colleague. I was touched that a man in his profession could care so for another coach . . . and for all coaches.
That’s why I was especially struck at the time of Dean’s leavetaking from Chapel Hill a few weeks ago, that the wonderful national outpouring of affection for Coach Smith was, in a way, directed more at what he represented–his whole profession–than at what he had accomplished himself. Unlike, say, Bear Bryant, and a great many other famous coaches–charming raconteurs who became Grand Old Men–Smith is not a particularly scintillating fellow. Even with his record, made at, arguably, the premier basketball college in the land, Smith’s acclaim came less for his record–879 wins, two national titles and all the rest–and more for the internal–for a guileless spirit and a creative strategist truly beloved by his players.
Al McGuire once observed: ““Coaching college is not pizza parties and getting the team together down at the A&W root-beer stand.’’ But the truth is that most fans still want, hopelessly, to believe in that old fantasy. It is noteworthy that even as we maintain negative attitudes about American public education in general and regularly lambaste teachers for being undedicated and sloppy, we still hold the coaches of our children in warm regard. Dean Smith, as much as anyone, has sustained that nostalgic American myth of the caring Mr.-Chips-of-a-coach, who only incidentally glances up at the scoreboard.
But after Dean, who? There is Eddie Robinson at Grambling, but he’s ““retiring’’ in a few weeks, a step ahead of the alumni posse. Only Joe Paterno of Penn State survives Coach Smith as the old beau ideal of the profession. Otherwise, it tells you all you need to know about college coaching today to recognize that, soon enough, the two coaches who will succeed Bryant and Smith with the most victories will be Tom Osborne of Nebraska and Bobby Knight of Indiana–two quite different men, but both hard cases, without any sentiment or any knowledge whatsoever of where the nearest A&W may be found.
There is, too, considerable irony in the fact that the classic anti-Smith coach is his very own brightest player: Larry Brown. Now the boss of the Philadelphia 76ers, the peripatetic Brown has trooped his colors throughout the width and breadth of hoopianna. It was always fashionable to mock Brown for his history of ““jumping’’ teams, here and there, pro to college and back again. But the fact is that Larry Brown (who has been everywhere), not Dean Smith (who has stayed in the same place forever), has turned out to be the model of the successful modern coach. Rick Pitino, who has just left one basketball shrine–Kentucky–for another–the Boston Celtics–has only validated that career style.
The modern coaching ideal is to change jobs before they change the locks on you, always searching for more control and more money. Besides, there really isn’t that much difference any longer between college and pro. Players leave college early and because they have free agency in the pros, everything is fluid and up for grabs. Pitino must cosset and recruit for the pro Bostons, no less than he did for the college Kentuckys.
It’s all of a piece. In the end, Larry Brown wasn’t the exception; he was just ahead of the curve, and it’s a curve that Leyland, Johnson, Daley, Keenan, Parcells, Calipari, Bowman, LaRussa, Riley and lots of others have taken on two wheels. Phil Jackson, the coach of the Chicago Bulls–absolutely the most romantic, outstanding team of our time–has already declared his intention to move on after this season.
Michael Jordan wistfully says he would return next year if Smith, his dear old college coach, could only be persuaded to take over the Bulls. But it could never be. Dean Smith was of another time in coaching, and that time is now past.
