Harsh reality
Jack McCallum, SI.com
This is the time of year when various overcaffeinated hoops analysts nominate various college basketball coaches for canonization. I have no problem with that. These next three weeks should belong to the college game -- the beauty of the 64-team bracket that gets whittled to 32, then 16, then eight, then four, then two, is one of the best things in all of sport.
But in an effort to sprinkle a little rain on the college parade (I like Connecticut, by the way), this might be a good time to offer up a reminder of how many college geniuses have failed to transfer their success to the pro game. A partial list would Jerry Tarkanian, Rick Pitino and Lon Kruger with the jury still out on Mike Montgomery. And need we mention that Mike Krzyzewski, safely ensconced as the Supreme Ruler of Duke, has so far chosen not to venture into the 24-Second Game, not even for the multimillions that the Lakers' Jerry Buss wanted to pay him?
It is overly simplistic to suggest that a single factor or even group of factors unites the men who have failed. Pitino, for example, was reasonably successful with the New York Knicks (90-74 in two seasons in the late 1980s) until he tried to pull off a lord-and-master bit in Boston and fell on his face. But herewith a five-pack of reasons college coaches are usually better off staying on campus.
It ain't about you
After you've become the most famous face on campus, it's hard blending into the crowd. And blend a pro coach must. How difficult would it be for college coaches associated with one school -- such as Krzyzewski, Connecticut's Jim Calhoun, Syracuse's Jim Boeheim, Michigan State's Tom Izzo, Temple's (just-retired) John Chaney -- to suddenly realize that a general manager might be less apt to heed their opinion than that of one of the team's stars? Everyone who gets a pro job plays lip service to the notion that the players are the center of the universe, but in reality it's a tough thing to swallow after you've run a veritable fiefdom.
These ain't my guys
College coaches, even the Calhouns and the Boeheims of the world, go out and get their big recruits, and even the second-level recruits hear this message: Coach wants you. By and large, players come to college because they've drunk the Kool-Aid being dispensed by the head man.
It can happen that way in the NBA, but it's not the working model. General managers make personnel decisions based on how much money owners want (or don't want) to spend, how much salary has to be divested for salary-cap reasons and how much the GM or owner might favor a certain player, even if the coach might not want him.
Pro coaches covet players, and NBA players do long to play for certain teams because of coaching styles. But unless a scenario works out for the front office, it's not going to happen.
But I can't go nine-deep
College coaches play, for the most part, a system; pro coaches exploit, for the most part, matchups. Quite often the latter involves looking down the bench for a reserve with, say, a nice postup game but no other discernible skills. Still, he's good enough to win a game.
Krzyzewski knows he needs so much from J.J. Redick in any given game. Boeheim needs to tap into Gerry McNamara. NBA coaches, of course, need their superstars, but a dozen games a year will be won or lost on the back of a minor player.
Rotations harder than trigonometry
The fact that every player in the NBA (well, almost everyone) has some skill compels teams to have defensive schemes designed to keep certain players from scoring. "OK, we're doubling on the block, so our off-guard has to retreat and cover the elbow, and our small forward has to get off and challenge the shooter in the corner, and we'll leave this guy open on the perimeter because he's only at 25 percent on threes...." Sometimes scheming is overdone, as the more honest coaches will concede, but it's a necessity.
This is not to say that college coaches don't make adjustments, but it's nothing like the eternal head game that goes on in the pros. And there's nothing that makes a coach look worse than a team in full rotation that gives up an open jumper anyway.
But I just hung up my family photos ...
Like a kindly professor with patches on his elbows, a college coach builds up currency around the campus. He is often a beloved figure, part of the tapestry, a stop on the college tour. "Coach Boeheim has his office in there, kids."
Life isn't like that for the pro coach. There are franchise lifers, such as the Utah Jazz's Jerry Sloan, but by and large NBA head coaches are suits with no security. Sure, they are compensated with millions of dollars, but they are always one disagreement (with a superstar, the GM or the owner) away from getting the ax.
Then, too, few items on America's sports smorgasbord are as tasty to the public as college basketball. Most fans have the idea that college coaches are geniuses -- chemistry professors, in effect -- while pro coaches are guys who simply roll out the balls before practice. Nothing could be further from the truth, but nothing is going to divest society of that notion.
If you want to stick around and have a semblance of a life, basking in glory in the process, stay in school.
