Dean Smith would rather do a two-chorus rendition of Duke’s fight song than discuss the dreaded R-words: Rupp and records. If it were up to Smith, state law would prohibit reporters from even mentioning the you-know-what.
But the double R’s aren’t going away anytime soon. You don’t romance the greatest college coaching record of all time for 36 seasons–as Smith has done at North Carolina–and then pretend it doesn’t exist. Smith tries, but it isn’t working.
“If and when that should happen, I’ll say something about it,” Smith said at a recent press conference. “Maybe next year, maybe the year after. Maybe never.”
Or maybe in a few weeks.
Like it or not, Smith, 66, is making a beeline for history. For now, the late Adolph Rupp has the record for most career victories, 876 at Kentucky. But Rupp is renting, not owning. Depending on the Tar Heels’ run in the NCAA tournament, Smith, 874-252 after Saturday’s Atlantic Coast Conference semifinals victory over Wake Forest, could take sole possession of the record before the end of March.
Of course, don’t mention any of this to Smith. In fact, don’t mention it to anybody in Carolina blue. So determined is Smith to downplay the record that he provided his team with a detailed, Tar Heels-approved response to all questions regarding the magic number.
“He told us, `Every time a reporter asks, try to change the subject to something else,’ ” said Serge Zwikker, the Tar Heels’ senior center who cannot tell a lie.
And if that doesn’t work?
“He said, `Tell them not to worry about it. Tell them that we as a Carolina team are just taking one thing at a time. Tell them not to worry about the record,’ ” Zwikker said.
Typical Smith. He has spent a career deflecting the light aimed his way. Ask him anything team-related and he launches into a Mr. Smith-Goes-To-Washington filibuster speech. Ask him about his own record and Smith squirms like a kid in a car seat.
“I don’t want to discuss (the record) because then it takes away from talking about our players,” he said. “It never enters my mind. I don’t even think about it. I’m lucky to have kept my job.”
Someone needs to reduce Smith’s daily intake of modesty pills. This is a guy with 23 consecutive NCAA tournament appearances, with 27 consecutive 21-win seasons, with 33 consecutive years of top-three finishes in the ACC. No wonder he has an arena named after him.
This time the Tar Heels enter the postseason as a legitimate NCAA tournament alternative to favored Kansas. Smith has his usual allotment of stars (Antawn Jamison and Vince Carter), his usual overachiever (Zwikker) and his usual quality point guard (ACC newcomer of the year Ed Cota). The bench isn’t as deep as in past years, but Smith doesn’t seem to mind.
Hardly anything fazes Smith, even the uncharacteristic criticism that surfaced as the Tar Heels lost their first three ACC games and five of their first eight. For the first time in years, a small contingent of disgruntled Carolina fans began sending letters to their local newspapers. The complaints were always the same: The game had passed Smith by . . . recruiting was a mess . . . why were walk-ons playing during crunch time against Maryland and Virginia?
Smith didn’t say a word. But his friends did.
“Letters to the editor–you’ve got to be kidding me,” Kansas coach Roy Williams said, dismissing the critics. “I feel sadness that they know nothing about the game. My next reaction is to chuckle.”
Williams was a longtime North Carolina assistant before taking the Kansas job. He says what Smith cannot or will not: “If (Jerry) Stackhouse and Rasheed (Wallace) were back, nobody would be saying that about Coach Smith.”
Truth is, Smith shouldn’t have to explain himself, with or without Stackhouse and Wallace, who ditched Chapel Hill for the NBA after their sophomore season two years ago. Thirty-six seasons of success should have its perks.
For the most part, Smith remains the same meticulous, anal-retentive coach Frank McGuire hired as an assistant in 1958. Smith wears better suits these days, and his annual earnings are at least 100 times higher than his initial $9,500 salary. He started with one secretary; now he has five. His contract runs through 2001, but he can quit whenever he wants and instantly become the school’s assistant chancellor of paper clips.
“I’ve had that contract since ’81,” Smith said.
Translation: The paper clips can wait.
Big Ten Commissioner Jim Delany, who played at North Carolina in the late 1960s, remembers when Smith made a special trip to UCLA just to watch John Wooden conduct practice. He returned to Chapel Hill convinced the Tar Heels could challenge UCLA for national championships.
“They do everything well, but they don’t do anything much better than us,” Smith told the Tar Heels that day.
Preparation was–and still is–the core of Smith’s success. “Cutting edge,” Delany said.
Smith doesn’t miss a thing. His attention to detail is legendary. So is his memory. Names, places, dates, rosters, stats, records, scores–Smith knows it all.
“Duke-North Carolina game. My parents came in and I asked if I could have two more tickets,” Delany said. “Five minutes before the game, (then-assistant coach Eddie) Fogler came up and said, `They’re in the wrong section.’ Coach Smith had seen my parents sitting in the wrong seats and he sent Fogler over. The warmups are going on, he’s preparing to coach and he’s worried about my parents. I thought that was amazing.”
Smith is as thoughtful as ever. And chippy too. He still bristles at imperfection, poor shot selection and lazy defense. And on occasion, his temper makes a public appearance.
Two years ago, during the ACC tournament, Smith nearly had a meltdown during a loss to Clemson. Angered by what he considered unnecessary physical play by Tigers forward Iker Iturbe, Smith began chirping away.
“Iturbe . . . Iturbe, he’s a dirty player,” Smith kept telling the officials.
First-year Clemson coach Rick Barnes, no wallflower, saw what was happening and instantly complained. The two coaches were called together near the scorer’s table. Soon they were nose to nose.
The family newspaper version:
“Stop coaching my guys,” Barnes told Smith.
“Stop coaching them to do what they’re doing and I won’t have to,” Smith snapped.
“I ought to kick your (butt),” Barnes said.
“Go ahead, hit me,” Smith said.
Nothing happened. Barnes and Smith were later fined by ACC Commissioner Gene Corrigan for conduct unbecoming to the league. That’s OK. Barnes became a hero for standing up to Smith. Smith remained a hero for defending his players.
Barnes and Smith aren’t exactly best pals, but the shouting matches have stopped. They even trade handshakes and compliments these days.
“No one should have that all-time record other than Dean Smith,” Barnes said. “He represents all the good things in college basketball.”
Barnes isn’t alone. You want to pay homage to Smith? Stand in line.
“Consistency is what separates him from everyone else,” Virginia coach Jeff Jones said. “There are coaches who maybe have won as many games as him in three, five years, maybe won more national championships. But when you look at his career, the numbers are staggering. And it’s not like when Adolph Rupp did it. Now there’s so much pressure, so much attention, so much a coach has to deal with. He’s scrutinized much more closely.”
And this from Maryland coach Gary Williams: “What makes it really amazing is that he’s done it at one school. And it’s amazing how he’s changed as the players have changed. When the three-pointer became a factor, he took advantage of it more than anyone. If you look at his career, he’s always been able to make changes.”
This season’s Tar Heels are a textbook example. Smith turned the 7-foot-3-inch Zwikker from a serviceable center into a respectable one. He turned Cota from a scared freshman into an accomplished point guard. He found a way to tap the immense talents of Carter and made the most of Jamison’s strengths. He allowed Shammond Williams to return to the more comfortable position of shooting guard. He squeezed the most out of a seven-man rotation.
The result: The Tar Heels didn’t lose a game in February and entered the postseason as one of the hottest teams in the country. Smith acts as if he didn’t do a thing.
Despite orders to play dumb, Carolina’s players know Smith is on the verge of record-book greatness. They see Rupp’s name atop the all-time win list. They’d like to be the team that nudges him ahead.
“He doesn’t need to get the record for me to pat him on the back,” Zwikker said. “He’s a great coach, but I’ll be very excited, to be honest with you, if he gets it. It would be something that I would be proud of.”
Though he won’t admit it, so would Smith.
