Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, March 24, 1991 TAG: 9103240113
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Bill Brill
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The fact is that the NCAA Tournament has become not only an outlet for the familiar faces and conferences, but a showcase for the best coaches.
In this game, they are the survivors. Because winning is paramount, an old coach almost automatically means a successful coach.
But this year's final eight is carrying things to the extreme.
Among the nearly 300 schools that play Division I basketball, there are a mere handful of coaches past 60.
But look at the regional finalists. Little Louie Carnesecca of St. John's is 66, refusing to collect Social Security checks.
UNLV's controversial and besieged Jerry Tarkanian is 60, as is Dean Smith, who seemingly will achieve the unimagined - he will pass Adolph Rupp in 159 more victories to become the winningest coach of all time.
Temple's John Chaney is 58. The man he beat in Friday's East semifinal, Eddie Sutton of Oklahoma State, is 55.
Of the last eight coaches in the field, only Roy Williams of Kansas - who learned under Smith - is a relative newcomer with three years on the job.
Smith, who is taking his 30th Tar Heel team into the coach's 12th regional title game today against Temple, insisted again Saturday that "parity is here to stay."
That's simply not true.
It sounds good, and appears reasonable because of sufficient regular-season upsets.
But to get this far in the NCAAs, only the strong survive. Most of the time, it is a team from a power league with an experienced coach at the helm.
Smith said it was "true of the entire tournament" that anybody could beat anybody, that despite the 93-67 edge over Eastern Michigan, if those teams played 10 games, it might wind up 5-5 or 6-4.
Your rotund correspondent suggests it would have been 10-0, Tar Heels.
Why do the same people win all the time?
Why is Temple the only team left that wasn't among the top 16 seeds?
What wins is the system.
And circumstance.
The good coaches win. They win because they have a style of play, and they know what they want from their performers.
That is not to suggest that the best players aren't needed. Obviously, they are. But, at this level, the coaches are in control.
John Wooden did it his way. So do Bobby Knight and John Thompson. They, not the players, are the headliners.
Certainly that is the case with Smith and Chaney, a pair of liberals from different sides of the tracks.
In basketball history, no coach has had as many great players as Smith. Wooden had the great big men, but overall, Smith has had more superstars. And nobody else is close to those two.
They had far different coaching styles, but, protestations aside, it was the coach who was the focal point.
In Smith's case, he has developed the team concept beyond all. The Carolina way. The seniors are the leaders. The freshmen carry bags and are seldom heard.
They stand in unison on the bench; they point fingers after assists; they talk alike. They are bright young men who graduate in four years and they say nothing even remotely controversial.
The rule is praise thy teammate. Thus it is that King Rice receives all of the credit for Hubert Davis going 5-for-5 on three-pointers.
Nobody - nooooobody - is as fiercely loyal as a former Tar Heel. There is no question about the color of their blood - light blue.
Chaney has gone about it differently. He got a late start in the big-time, perhaps because of his race, but the chip he used to carry on his shoulder is not nearly so apparent.
He recruits Proposition 48 non-qualifiers - two start, a third is a reserve - and he practices at 5:30 in the morning and he liberally punctuates attention-getting barbs with curse words.
He is, in many ways, like Bobby Knight, although his teams don't play at all like Indiana.
What Chaney is, however, is what the players see, and surely they must have their eyes open when they come to Temple, because there is no wavering in the system.
If Chaney wins today, and it would be an upset but not a monumental one, his players will do precious little outward celebrating.
"I don't like it," he said. "I don't like to see the football spiked or players running around giving the No. 1 signal."
So when there were smiles Friday when it was apparent the Owls had won in overtime, there was Chaney, telling them to shut up. "Class or ass" is how he puts it.
"Tell them `good game' and go to your room" is the Temple way.
John Chaney will not change. Neither will Dean Smith.
Not only is that who they are, but it's why they win.
by CNB