The Low-Key Man Who Gave Us March Madness
by
Gary North
by Gary North
"March Madness"
has begun. This is America's annual ritual celebrating college basketball.
Some economists believe that the value of lost productivity as a
result of workers' time devoted to March madness will approach a
billion dollars in 2006. It cost over $750
million in 2005.
Yet there was
a time when there was no March Madness. I have written about this before.
I can remember watching the 1962 NCAA basketball final, which was
broadcast by a non-network local TV station in Los Angeles, which
was a huge market. The station did not want to broadcast the game,
but it had to. In order to broadcast the semifinal game between
local favorite UCLA and the University of Cincinnati, the station
had to agree to broadcast the final game, even if UCLA lost the
semifinal game, which it did, by two points.
In 1962, it
was a replay of the two Ohio teams that had battled for the NCAA
championship the year before, Cincinnati vs. Ohio State. Cincinnati
had won the 1961 game in overtime. But no one in Los Angeles saw
that game. It was not broadcast. There was no interest. Yet Ohio
State had defeated Cal in 1960 for the NCAA championship, had lost
to Cincinnati the next year, and was appearing for the third time
in a row. It had the nation's best center, Jerry Lucas. It had the
forward who would become the greatest sixth man in NBA history,
John Havlicek. Why, it even had Bobby Knight on the team! But Bobby
did not throw chairs across the court in those days, so nobody paid
much attention to him in those days. In 1962, Cincinnati won again.
In 1962, college
basketball fans were not considered a large enough segment of the
national audience to warrant even the final NCAA game. By 1975,
the mania was obvious to every network.
Consider the
following facts.
A
syndication, Sports Network, was involved in the first six live
national telecasts of the NCAA Tournament from 1963 through 1968
for rights totaling $140,000.
You may wondering
where the missing four zeroes are. They were not there. There was
no madness in March, 1963. But, by 1968, that $140,000 proved to
be a very good investment.
What
got the event over the hump was the 1968 (national semifinals) rematch
between Houston and UCLA in Los Angeles after the Bruins had their
long (47-game) winning streak snapped by the Cougars earlier in
the season at the Astrodome. We had 253 stations pick up the semifinals
and final that year (compared to an 11-station network in 1957).
In 1957, 64
newspaper writers attended the NCAA final game. There will be over
1,000 media representatives this year.
What had made
the difference? One man. A coach. John Wooden of UCLA, the "Wizard
of Westwood." In 1962, UCLA did not have a basketball court large
enough to let all of the fans on campus attend a home game. UCLA
had rented other local arenas for its home games ever since Coach
Wooden arrived in 1948. He had been promised a large arena within
three years. He got it in 1965-66. It is called Pauley Pavilion,
named after oil man Edwin Pauley, who put up one million 1965 dollars
to help build it. But in 1965, everyone knew it would soon be Alcindor
Arena. Big Lew had just enrolled as a freshman.
THE
DYNASTY
There are few
agreed-upon dynasties in college sports. John Wooden's is the best-known
one. Between 1964 and 1975, his teams won ten NCAA championships,
and lost a shot at what probably would have been the eleventh in
a double overtime semifinal game in 1974. His teams won 88 in a
row, eclipsing the 60-game record that the University of San Francisco
had set with Bill Russell and K. C. Jones. He was named coach of
the year six times.
Yet Wooden
labored in obscurity for almost two decades before his 1964 team
won the NCAA title with a 30-0 season. In 1948, his Indiana State
team made it to the NAIA finals, but the NAIA is for smaller schools.
Outside of Indiana, few fans noticed.
Two athletic
directors noticed: one at the University of Minnesota and one at
UCLA. Wooden wanted the Minnesota position as head coach, but he
told both schools of his deadline. UCLA called. Minnesota didn't.
He accepted the offer from UCLA. The next day, Minnesota called.
There had been a storm, and the phone lines had gone down. Too late.
Wooden stuck to his word. He went to UCLA in the fall of 1948.
He had a great
team in 195556, but USF had a greater team. USF beat UCLA
at the regional, and went on to win the NCAA championship.
Then, without
warning, came his 196162
team, which made it to the NCAA semifinals. It had started out
erratically, but had jelled in conference play. The senior guard,
John Green, made the Helms All American list (3rd team), and its
sophomore guard, Walt Hazard, led the 1963-64 team to the title
as a senior.
In 1963, the
NCAA final game was broadcast in Los Angeles. Nobody made the station
broadcast that game. Loyola of Chicago beat Cincinnati in overtime.
The next year, UCLA won its first NCAA basketball title. The year
after that, UCLA did it again, setting the all-time scoring record:
400 points in the final four games.
Then came the
hiatus. In 1966, the title was won by Texas Western, an obscure
commuter school located north of El Paso. The final game offered
a unique scene: an all-[negro, black, African-American take your
pick] starting line-up against an all-white team, Kentucky, coached
by the then-legendary Adolph Rupp, "the Baron," who held the record
of four NCAA championship teams. He was seeking his fifth. He did
not get it. The recent movie, Glory Road, is loosely based
on this season.
The long-forgotten
fact is that almost nobody believed at the time that Texas Western
was the best team in the country. The best team was clearly UCLA's.
Unfortunately for Coach Wooden that year, it was not UCLA's varsity.
It was the freshman squad, coached by Gary Cunningham, who had been
on the 196162 team. That squad had four All-American high
school players, including Alcindor. Beginning in 1966, every NCAA
Division I basketball coach except Wooden was looking forward to
three years of runner-up status, at best.
So good was
the freshman squad that Cunningham had proposed a frosh-varsity
pre-season game. This, despite the fact that in the earliest pre-season
poll, UCLA was picked number-one by the college coaches. Wooden
did not think this game would be a good idea, but he relented. The
game was broadcast by a local TV station. The frosh beat the varsity
8065. The varsity was simply never in the game. The next week
another pre-season poll was released. The UCLA varsity was still
ranked number-one. The coaches knew what was going to happen in
196667. It did. It happened again in 196768 and 196869.
For three years, NCAA meant "no chance against Alcindor."
Then Alcindor
graduated. College basketball coaches breathed a sigh of relief.
"Let the competition begin!" It did. UCLA won the next four championships.
Before this run, no other team had ever won more than two in a row.
His teams had four undefeated seasons. No other coach ever had more
than one, and only four could claim this. His teams racked up 38
consecutive NCAA tournament wins. The runner-up had 13. His home
court advantage was considerable: 149 to 2.
There was an
upset in 1974, when UCLA lost in double overtime in the semifinals
to North Carolina State, which won the final game. Then, once again,
UCLA won in 1975. Just before that final game, Coach Wooden told
his team it would be his last game as coach. They had not been expected
to defeat Kentucky that night. They did, 9285.
The dynasty
ended that night. UCLA won two decades later, but that was just
another good team.
THE
COACH
Wooden had
been an All-American three years in a row as a player at Purdue.
He had been a high school coach and English teacher. He always considered
himself a teacher.
He was methodical
in everything he did. His practices were highly structured and limited
to two hours. His relationship with his players was that of a kind
of distant uncle: caring but not intimate.
He never stood
on the sidelines of the court during a game. He sat on the bench,
program rolled up, occasionally yelling something into that program
that no one not seated next to him or in front of him could hear.
He hated to call a time out, especially the first time out of the
game. He believed that the training and physical conditioning of
his players were sufficient. In over 80% of the games he ever coached,
they were.
Wooden began
the same way with all his new players. He taught them how to put
on their socks. Everything else in his program was similarly detailed
and structured. He ran practices with a stack of 3x5 note cards.
As evidence
of his patience, in 196364, he introduced a new defensive
pattern that other coaches called a 2-2-1 zone press. He had devised
it years earlier, but he did not have a team with the quickness
to execute it until 1963. His defensive guard would pick up the
opposing guard with the ball before he crossed the half-court line.
Often, the man was double-teamed: two guards on him. He would throw
the ball to another player, and a UCLA forward would intercept it
and score or pass the ball to a now-offensive guard. Wooden liked
quick players above all. "Be quick, but don't hurry" was his motto.
The intercepted pass would produce a series of mental lapses for
the opponents, in which UCLA would score ten or more points in two
minutes. Sports writers called it the two-minute explosion.
The other coaches
revered him. He did not deliberately run up large scores on them
when his starting line-up could do this. He let the bench players
onto the court. They were usually about as good as the opposing
team's first string, so they kept the lead that the first team had
run up. Sometimes they would add a few points to show that they
could have started on most other teams.
He never personally
recruited players. He let former players do that. His assistant
coaches also unofficially got into the act. He would not get on
a plane to visit a player or initiate the first phone call. A player
had to contact him first.
Over
his career, he developed what he called the pyramid of success.
It applies to everything a person does in his work.
This diagram
and its explanation have become famous. His former players testify
to its practicality. Andy Hill, a bench player, later became a highly
successful television producer. He has written a book about its
applicability, Be
Quick but Don't Hurry. Jay Carty, who played against Wooden's
teams in the early 1960s and who was hired by Wooden to help train
Alcindor, has written a book, Coach
Wooden's Pyramid of Success. PBS did an entire show on it:
John
Wooden Values, Victory, and Peace of Mind. You can
still see it locally during the fund-raiser weeks, when PBS re-runs
its most popular shows. Here is Wooden, age 90 (he is now 95), lecturing
to a bunch of young people, who were probably not born when he retired.
The best college
basketball player in the nation each year receives the John R. Wooden
award from the Los Angeles Athletic Club. It was created after he
retired to serve as basketball's equivalent of the Heisman trophy.
UCLA's Marques Johnson was the first winner in 1977.
The mythical
coach in Blue
Chips is the antithesis of Wooden. (Marques Johnson plays
a quiet assistant coach to Nick Nolte's head coach.)
Wooden became
the first person to be inducted twice into the Basketball Hall of
Fame: as a player and as a coach. Only Lenny Wilkens and Bill Sharman
have also achieved this recognition.
CONCLUSION
Wooden's dynasty
created the first widespread national interest in college basketball.
Wooden represented the sport when color television was gaining a
foothold in American living rooms. The combination of Wooden and
Alcindor, the short (normal) man and the giant, from the fall of
1966 through the NCAA finals in 1969, was visually irresistible to the media. It wasn't David. vs. Goliath;
it was David coaching Goliath. It was tough act to follow, but Wooden's
later acts followed it. And so did tens of millions of viewers.
In 2000, the
NCAA awarded him the Coach of the Century award.
So,
enjoy March Madness. I may even tune in on the final night. But,
for me, the sport has never reached the pinnacle it reached under
Coach Wooden. For that matter, I don't think there is a team out
there today that could beat the UCLA frosh of 196566.
March
18, 2006
Copyright
© 2006 LewRockwell.com
Gary
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