At 64, the age most Americans find themselves at the precipice of retirement, Mike Krzyzewski is one good weekend from the all-time record for wins among Division I basketball coaches.
A couple of victories — over Arizona on Thursday night and the winner of UConn-San Diego State on Saturday — would leave him at 902, tied with his loutish mentor, Bob Knight, who, last I saw, was spewing profanities on an ESPN pregame show. It is, however, worth mentioning that at the tender age of 64, Knight had 72 fewer wins than his erstwhile point guard at Army.
In fairness, Knight was a great coach who graduated his players. What’s more, given a record that is unblemished by NCAA violations, it’s a wonder he was able to coach into this century. The greater astonishment, however, is Krzyzewski’s career.
With another Final Four appearance — his 12th — he will tie John Wooden.
Another national championship would give him five, one more than Adolph Rupp and more than anyone not named Wooden (who had a mere 664 wins).
The question isn’t how Krzyzewski — with players like Kyle Singler, Nolan Smith and Kyrie Irving — got here this March. It’s how he keeps returning. This is his 31st season as the head coach in Durham, and I don’t care how much you love hating Duke or whether the rich kids at Cameron really do deserve your enmity. In an age where collegiate corruption seems the norm, Krzyzewski’s career should be recognized for the spectacular anomaly it is.
I don’t think he could do it again. Nothing against him, either. I don’t think anyone could.
In 1980, his last year as coach at Army, Krzyzewski’s team went 9-17.
“We probably should have been four-and-something,” he said at Wednesday’s press conference.
Yes, he had some good seasons at West Point. He even got an NIT bid one year. But now, as then, it was not the kind of resume that typically gets one a coveted ACC job.
“When I got to Duke, it was different,” he said. “Guys didn’t go (to the NBA) early, and we had a great president and a great AD and a plan, and I never felt threatened. I’m not sure coaches today feel the same way.”
Actually, I’m pretty sure they don’t. Krzyzewski was 10-17 and 11-17 in his second and third seasons there.
“A lot of people don’t work for great people,” he said. “. . . They want fast food.”
On a lot of levels, that’s a pretty good analogy, college sports as cheap hamburger meat.
With the exception of Arizona’s Sean Miller, the three coaches left in the West bracket qualify as gray eminences. Unfortunately, Steve Fisher had two of his previous Final Four appearances vacated (along with more than 100 other victories) after it was learned that at least four of his Michigan players were getting hundreds of thousands of dollars from a retired Ford electrician. (Again, for what it’s worth, Michigan’s Fab Five — with Chris Webber on the take for $280,000 from an accused gambler and money-launderer — is the most celebrated team never to win a thing).
Meanwhile, UConn coach Jim Calhoun — with 840 wins — will begin serving a three-game suspension next season, when he’s 69. Calhoun, according to the NCAA Infractions Committee, “failed to promote atmosphere of compliance.” That’s another way of saying the coach and his staff made about 2,500 improper calls and text messages while recruiting a kid named Nate Miles a few years ago.
Five teams have had to vacate Final Four appearances since 1993. And those are just the guys who got caught. Still, it’s enough to wonder if you can play clean and stay clean at that level of basketball.
Somehow, Krzyzewski has gotten great players without compromising his dignity, or anyone else’s for that matter. He’s had his one-and-dones, from Corey Maggette to Luol Deng. Irving will probably be a lottery pick this summer. And there’s nothing wrong with that, per se. Student-athletes should be smart enough to make up their own minds.
Just the same, there’s nothing wrong with a guy like Singler staying for his senior year.
“You’re going to have your ups and downs throughout a season,” said Singler, “but I definitely never regretted it.”
The college game changed, but Krzyzewski’s program less so. Players like Singler remain the norm there. He says he didn’t return to help his coach break any records. But he wouldn’t have come back for another coach, either.
So what if Singler cost himself millions by not coming out last year? That’s his problem — or maybe not. It’s not as if he spent four years flipping burgers.
