Al McGuire
With the NCAA tournament upon us, we found ourselves thinking of Al McGuire the other day. McGuire coached at Marquette from 1964 through 1977. The Marquette Warriors ( now doing business as the "Golden Eagles" in this more politically correct era) were good under McGuire. They won the National Invitation Tournament in 1970 and the NCAA in McGuire's last year. McGuire, the son of a saloon keeper from Far Rockaway Beach on Long Island, specialized, like Georgetown's John Thompson who came later, in taking offensive players and turning them into defensive specialists. Or he specialized in screwing them up, depending on your point of view. In any event, McGuire's ballclubs were ultra-conservative on offense and played defense like you were trying to break into their house.
Most teams are considered to be a reflection of the basic personality of their coach. Looking at the Marquette teams of those days, one could easily assume that the guy pushing the buttons on the bench was some tight-assed, humorless martinet. Like Bob Knight. Or Don Chaney when he is hearing the voices again. One would be wrong.
He let his teams design the uniforms with the predictably garish results. He let them mismatch the color off their shoes. During the Vietnam era one of his players who opposed the war would turn his back on the American flag during the National Anthem. McGuire didn't make him stop.
And yet, he was a tough guy and wore that mantle with pride. We attended graduate school in the late seventies with a kid from Marquette-a Greek kid named Chris- who was a manager for the Warriors. His favorite Al McGuire story was about getting mad at a kid who was putting it up too frequently during a practice. McGuire told him to start passing more. Minutes later shooter boy jacked another one.
Al knocked him out. As in one-punched him.
Then there was the game, probably against one of Frank McGuire's (no relation) South Carolina clubs. Those games always devolved into fisticuffs. Al called a timeout. In the huddle he told his team that if they wanted to fight somebody they could fight him. He also told them that if 3 guys followed him into an alley that you could bet that he would be the guy that would make it back out on the street. There were no takers.
Our classmate roomed with Maurice Lucas in those days. Lucas, who was a board certified badass, would later become famous for a brawl as a Portland Trailblazer with Philadelphia Seventy-Sixer Darryl Dawkins, the likes of which made Ron Artest's recent foray into the stands at Detroit look like a game of tag. Lucas said that Al McGuire was the only white man that he had ever feared.
And yet, for all the acclaim he garnered as a coach, Al McGuire will be best remembered for his television work during the eighties and nineties. McGuire was no "x's and o's" kinda guy. McGuire felt his way through a game and his analysis-to the extent you could call it that- was similarly impressionistic and occasionally incoherent. He was Nathan Detroit on acid. He was often paired with the vastly overrated Billy Packer, who still may be found on the airways shilling for the Atlantic Coast Conference. McGuire, who nicknamed him " Billy Washroom" after his tendency to disappear whenever the waiter brought the check, delighted in gigging him in every broadcast.
A mike in front of Al was a dangerous thing. And yet, he provided some of the most memorable quotes in sports history:
" Remember half the doctors in this country graduated in the bottom half of their class."
" Winning is overemphasized. The only time it is really important is in surgery and war."
" When a guy (in a bar) takes off his coat, he's not going to fight. If he takes off his wristwatch, watch out!"
" I think the world is run by C students."
" If the waitress has dirty ankles, the chili should be good."
" The NBA would take Hitler if he was 7 foot."
Division I men's athletics is a cesspool. And basketball is the cesspool of the cesspool. There is so much money involved colleges cannot afford to make mistakes when they hire coaches. And so these guys all tend to look and act more like corporate CEOs than teachers of a game. There aren't many characters in the business anymore. For every Phil Martelli there are 10 Rick Pitinos. It occurs to us that an Al McGuire might not get a college job nowadays. It occurs to us that an Al McGuire might not get a television gig either. When you watch the tournament this week, we defy you to find anyone of the 38 talking heads we will have foisted upon us that will say anything remotely interesting. Other than Jay Bilas or Clark Kellogg. Maybe. Al McGuire once drank a marguerita on camera with Abe Lemons while ostensibly discussing Abe's Texas Longhorns. It is safe to say you will never see that again.
McGuire died in 2001 of a blood disorder. In his final days, many of his players came to see the old coach. McGuire always got out of his deathbed to greet his boys. He refused to let them see him lying down. Like we said. He was a tough guy.
No, they don't make 'em like Al McGuire anymore. And it is for this reason that we will watch the tournament with the sound turned waaaaaay down.
By the way: We like North Carolina's chances this year. We also like Wake Forest despite the fact that there will be no living with Packer if they were to actually pull this off. Duke and Illinois are too thin. Our sleeper teams? Villanova and Georgia Tech. We also have NC St, Texas, and Minnesota going down in the first round.
But who the hell knows?
No comments:
Post a Comment