Enjoy, Roy
Coach Nolan Richardson took Arkansas to three Final Fours between 1990 and 1995. The Hogs won their only national championship under Richardson in 1994. Not even Bill Clinton had as many adoring fans in the Razorback State as Richardson had in the mid ’90s. Two weeks ago, that all disappeared.
Richardson blew a gasket at a press conference and blamed the media for not recognizing how tough it was to be a black coach at Arkansas. And just as he ordered, his tirade was broadcast to every TV in America. Within two days the University of Arkansas fired him and bought out the remaining years of his contract. Instead of a gracious departure from Arkansas following a storied coaching career, after which maybe the basketball court would have been named after him, Richardson found himself in district court with his name on a lawsuit.
Could this happen at Kansas? Could Roy Williams, the most adored man in the state (sorry, Bill Snyder fans, but Roy leads Bill in conference titles 8-zip), find himself and his legacy at Kansas besmirched by an ugly end to his coaching career at KU? Before you scoff and toss this column aside, consider that it’s happened to coaching legends of greater stature than Williams.
No man was more beloved in Indiana than Bob Knight. He won eleven Big 10 titles and three national championships for the Hoosiers in thirty years as the University of Indiana’s head man. But when a student addressed him with, “Hey, Knight,” the coach grabbed the kid by the arm and erased any possibility of a friendly retirement party in Bloomington.
Barry Switzer won three national titles and twelve Big 8 championships as the Sooners’ head coach. The guy was more popular in Oklahoma than Moon Pies, but he went out with guns blazing when one of his players fired an Uzi at the University of Oklahoma athletic dorm.
Woody Hayes was Ohio State football until he laid a right and then a left on a Clemson tackler at the 1978 Gator Bowl. Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones dismissed Tom Landry, the classiest coach in football, with less respect than Roseanne gives the national anthem. Vince Lombardi finished his career coaching the Redskins, not the Packers. Norm Stewart was forced out at Mizzou in 1999 after 32 years and 634 wins. Now an MU booster has organized an effort to make sure Stewart’s name appears nowhere inside the proposed basketball arena.
These coaches were at least as adored by their fans as Roy Williams is right now. How long can that last? “Fans are fans,” says Gary Bedore, the assistant sports editor of the Lawrence Journal-World. “They would turn on him if he started to lose.”
Kansas hired Al Bohl as its new athletic director last fall with one goal in mind — to make the football program a financial success. “Roy and Al Bohl are definitely oil and water,” says Ric Anderson, the Kansas beat writer for the Topeka Capital-Journal. “They’re doing a good job of keeping it under wraps right now, but Roy doesn’t want Bohl in his business. He doesn’t think he needs to be micromanaged.”
There’s a new breed of ADs in college athletics today whose job it is to make and raise millions for the university, not kowtow to high-profile coaches. “In years past, athletic directors weren’t chasing money the way they are now,” says Kurt Caywood, sports editor of the Topeka Capital-Journal. “With [Williams], you’re either with him or against him. That’s how a lot of those big-time coaches have to be.”
Isn’t it farfetched to imagine Saint Roy as a future Satan in the state of Kansas, though? “There’s a kind of impression around Lawrence with some fans that Roy can get whiny and point fingers,” Anderson says. “He likes to whine about how tough his job is. Some people would not be upset to see him go.”
It’s why coaches like Williams make the big bucks. Sometimes that’s all they’re left with when the music stops.
