There’s a reason why DePaul basketball is a punch line in progress, and it has nothing to do with Joey Meyer and last season’s 3-23 record.
Instead, it has everything to do with an administration capable of pretending Monday’s “resignation” by Meyer was anything less than a botched hatchet job. Meyer was fired, pure and simple, though the school offered a five-figure bonus if he would go quietly.
Meyer went, and as usual, he took the high road. Meanwhile, DePaul’s power brokers–Vice President of Student Affairs Jim Doyle and university President Rev. John P. Minogue–used another map altogether.
Doyle called Meyer at home Sunday evening, which should have been Meyer’s first clue. Could Meyer be at Doyle’s office Monday morning? Of course, he could, Meyer said, not suspecting a thing.
After all, who fires a coach two months after the regular season? Who fires a coach a month after the Final Four, which is the unofficial job fair of college basketball? And who fires a coach after he has just completed a grueling recruiting period, as well as individual workouts with the team’s returning players?
DePaul does. Apparently that’s how long it took for Doyle and Minogue to reach a “consensus”–their word, not ours–on Meyer’s future.
Say what you will about Meyer and the well-publicized struggles of his Blue Demons program, but nobody deserved this sort of treatment. Take a 2-by-4, tap somebody on the shoulder, then whack them flush across the mouth. Now you know how Meyer felt when he arrived for what he thought would be another day at the office.
Meyer was doomed months ago. DePaul will tell you otherwise, but how can you believe a place that pays someone to call a firing a resignation?
Loyal to a fault, Meyer should have seen the writing on the Alumni Hall walls. His relationship with Athletic Director Bill Bradshaw was strained, at best. He and Doyle rarely spoke. As for Minogue, he didn’t even bother to attend Monday’s news conference, though he did issue one of those meaningless thank-you statements.
Meyer wanted a new weight room. He didn’t get it. He wanted a new film room. He didn’t get it. He wanted an improved program budget. He didn’t get it. And do you think it’s a good sign when your athletic director won’t allow you to hire a new assistant coach?
DePaul put a serious face on the whole affair, but the whole news conference was a living, breathing sitcom. Doyle actually said the timing of the decision wasn’t “a very critical issue.”
It should have been, unless, of course, DePaul has a pretty good idea who it wants as a replacement. Doug Bruno, DePaul’s women’s coach is available–and interested–and a favorite of Jean Lenti Ponsetto, the school’s up-and-coming senior associate athletic director. Will it matter? Here’s guessing it will.
But the most amusing moment of the afternoon came when someone asked Bradshaw who called him with the news of Meyer’s dismissal. Bradshaw said he couldn’t remember. Huh?
Bradshaw recovered, saying it was “probably” Doyle, and added the decision was made between Meyer and DePaul.
He said this with a straight face too. Nearby, Meyer had to swallow a smirk.
Meyer’s only decision was a choice of poisons. DePaul wanted him gone, so gone he is. And thanks for the 30 years’ worth of memories.
DePaul thought so much of Meyer’s tenure that it didn’t even give him first crack at telling his own team of the decision. Instead, the players were informed of the departure by administrators, and later by Blue Demons assistants.
There is no timetable to name a replacement, though Bradshaw said the search will begin immediately. On his checklist of candidate qualities, Bradshaw said he wanted someone with integrity, great character, proven success as a recruiter and coach, as well as someone with confidence and Bradshaw didn’t know it, but the description sounded a lot like Meyer.
The irony of all this is that Meyer’s successor will be given what Meyer wasn’t given: a true commitment. Meyer had a four-year deal, but he also had the lingering spat with Bradshaw and the continuing rumors of his firing.
The new guy–Bruno . . . Randy Ayers . . . whoever–will likely get that new weight room, new film room, new budget and upgraded facilities. He will get it because Doyle, Minogue and Bradshaw can’t afford another day like Monday. Or more precisely, DePaul can’t. Not if it wants to be taken seriously. Not if it wants to be believed.
Of course, don’t ask Meyer about trust. He thought he had a job Monday morning. All he really had was an empty promise, a pink slip and careful placement on DePaul’s rusty trap door.
