ST. LOUIS — There were no mysteries, the message direct and firm, but there was always more than what met the eye.
Rick Majerus tied basketball lessons to life in seamless ways, as if he had a deeper purpose for each point. Leave nothing to chance. Leave nothing unnoticed.
"If you're not talking on the basketball floor, he'd turn that into, 'If you're not talking on the basketball floor, you're probably not talking in the classroom when your teacher wants you talking in the classroom. That's how you're going to get better grades,' " Brian Conklin, a Saint Louis forward from 2008 to 2012, said of Majerus — who won't return to SLU because of a severe heart condition, as announced by the school Friday.
"He just always had a life twist on a basketball lesson."
Majerus could be forceful. He could be demanding of those who shared a bench with him. But he also could be a teddy bear, a man of empathy and compassion who earned the trust of players who looked to him for guidance and growth.
"I had the utmost respect for him like I do my own father," said Conklin, who averaged 13.9 points per game last season in a run that ended in the Round of 32.
"He treated us with a special attention, like we were his own kids."
Majerus wasn't afraid to show it. Last March, SLU's first NCAA Tournament appearance since 2000 ended with a four-point loss to Michigan State.
The postgame news conference in Columbus, Ohio, included waterworks — Conklin broke down behind the microphone as well — and the curtain was lifted on what Majerus meant to SLU and programs like Marquette, Ball State and Utah before. Life and basketball became inseparable, part of a bond between the teacher and his pupils, and Majerus' imprint became clear.
"You see everywhere he went that he left a trail of success," Conklin said.
Majerus' trail as a head coach began at Marquette, his alma mater, in 1983 after 12 years as an assistant under the venerable Al McGuire. The path brought him to the Milwaukee Bucks as an assistant in 1986, then to Ball State, Utah and SLU over parts of the next 25 years, each stop offering a blackboard for his philosophy.
He turned Ball State into a 29-win program in 1989. He won 30 games with Utah in 1991 and 1998, the same year in which he made the Final Four. Then after five seasons, he gave SLU a 26-win campaign last winter, its best showing in 23 years.
But for as much success as Majerus enjoyed on the court — he earned 517 victories — health always was a thundercloud for him, dark and looming. There were concerns at Utah, issues that led to his resignation in 2004. He had seven heart bypasses before SLU hired him in 2007, and a stent was installed four years later.
But SLU gave Majerus, 64, a late-career charge. The program was a middling Atlantic 10 Conference contender upon his arrival. His rebuilding effort in the Gateway City required a focused dig — he went 34-29 in his first two campaigns — but he made progress in time.
There was a 23-win season that ended in the CBI Finals in 2010. Then last winter, after a disappointing 12-19 campaign in 2010-11, he captured some of his old lightning. He made the Billikens believe, lessons of life and basketball ever present.
"Clearly, he's one of the great ones that coached the game in the last 25 years," SLU athletic director Chris May told FOX Sports. "I believe his legacy nationally will be as one of the outstanding coaches who cared about his student-athletes and won on the court."
What will be missed without him? What will be gone?
"He was a strong figure in playing basketball with wonderful fundamentals and a discipline to have success," May said. "I think that will go down as what he'll be remembered as."
Majerus also will be remembered for shepherding focus in the classroom. No conversation with Majerus was complete without the coach mentioning the pride he gained from his players' academic achievements. He cited the number like a stat from a postgame score sheet: He coached six Academic All-Americans in his career, including two at SLU.
The topic reflected his interest in college basketball as a tool for personal development — not as an avenue for potential future riches in the NBA or overseas. He viewed his role as part coach and mentor, professor and counselor, authoritarian and father figure. He used his platform in a complex but complete way, a focus that never cracked through the decades.
"In college basketball there are a lot of compromises made," Majerus told FOX Sports last February. "The kids are the ultimate ones compromised. The happiness a guy like (Tim) Duncan has is irreplaceable because of his sense of self. That is all residual benefits of college. It's what you learn in the dorm room at night."
His lessons were many over 25 years, from SLU to Marquette, from Ball State to Utah. He preached a process. The practice paid results.
"He goes in there — it was places you wouldn't expect him to have success," Conklin said. "Then all of the sudden he's there for a couple years, and he gets everyone to buy into his philosophy and success comes."
With Majerus, there was never mystery but always something deeper.
Life and basketball, inseparable, joined forever through him.
You can follow Andrew Astleford on Twitter @aastleford or email him at aastleford@gmail.com.
