Shane Battier won the John R. Wooden Award in 2001. Jeff Gross/Getty Images

John Wooden's name is synonymous with winning. Winning is what he did with alarming regularity while coaching the UCLA men's basketball team to seven consecutive NCAA Championships. Winning was the only thing he did as he rattled off 38 straight tournament victories. Coach Wooden was a winner as a player, too. He was the first person inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame as both a player and coach. Not even World War II could contain him. He served our country proudly from 1943-46 and left the United States Navy as a Full Lieutenant after fulfilling his duty and helping the Allied Powers to (what else?) a win. Last Friday, however, after 885 career victories, coach John R. Wooden lost a big one.

Sadly, Coach Wooden learned that the pen is mightier than the sword, and no amount of X's and O's can help you execute against a simple signature.

In 1976, the Los Angeles Athletic Club and Wooden made a handshake deal to work in concert to give the best college basketball player in the country the John R. Wooden Award. The two parties hoped The Wooden Award would someday match the Heisman Trophy in prestige for colligiate athletes. They nearly succeded.

Far too routinely, the Heisman Trophy has been handed to a young man who dominated the college ranks but flamed out in the NFL. The Wooden Award winner by contrast, routinely goes on to become a perennial All-Star in the NBA. With apologies to Ed O'Bannon, a short list of Wooden Award winners reads like a wing in the Hall of Fame. Names such as Larry Bird, Michael Jordan, David Robinson, Tim Duncan, Elton Brand and Sean Elliot show that the Wooden Award is an honor given to not just to winners, but also to men who have class and dignity. How, then, could something so right go so wrong?

Last Friday, Coach Wooden announced that he was withdrawing his support from the award and "will no longer have any personal involvement with it because of disagreements with the club (LAAC) over the use of my name."

Coach Wooden went on to state that he would "not contest LAAC's continuance of those awards."

What would make a man as great as John Wooden not contest a second party's use of his name if he was no longer supporting the organization? The answer is indicative of the coach himself: honor.

A handshake agreement can only last so long. With the enormous success of The Wooden Award, and the big business that accompanies any such success, The Los Angeles Athletic Club found it prudent to get something in writing to protect its end of the agreement. Coach Wooden signed the use of his name over to the LAAC, which in turn quickly trademarked the moniker.

Instead of taking advantage of such a gift, the LAAC showed great respect for the Wooden name. The basketball court inside the LAAC is appropriately named the "John R. Wooden Award Court." On that court the club conducts clinics and youth basketball camps. The club brings in a professional NBA star to teach at these camps, which stresses fundamentals and teamwork. Babysitting is even offered to employees of the camp. The LAAC also offers summer camp,which includes friendship circles, swimming lessons and field trips. All in all, the people of the LAAC seem to be a classy bunch.

For a parting of ways of this size and scope, both the LAAC and John Wooden seem downright friendly about it. Wooden will allow the club to continue using his name, and in reference to Wooden Award chairman Doug Llewelly, in his statement the legendary coach used wordslike "great respect" and "appreciative." On the other side of the divide, LAAC president, Steve Hathaway lamented that he was, "shocked and saddened" by Wooden's request.

Given his .813 career winning percentage, it's reasonable to surmise that the one play Coach Wooden wishes he hadn't called was the signing over of his iconic name to the LAAC.

Last January, Coach Wooden and a group known as Atheletes for a Better World presented Indianapolis Colts quarterback Peyton Manning with an award dubbed "The Wooden Cup." Having gone through the trouble of filing the proper legal paper work to trademark the name "Wooden" for practically everything other than a driver's license, the LAAC cried foul. The club feared that use of Wooden's name for awards other than the John R. Wooden Award would diminish its prestige. The Wooden Cup presentation was even held at the Biltmore Hotel, where the basketball trophy annually is issued. Coach Wooden must have realized the preposterousness of the situation. Having allowed someone other than himself or his family to trademark his name, he was now legally bound to not use it or be in breach of the contracts he signed. It seems ridiculous, but all the transactions between Wooden and the LAAC are legit and the organization had every legal right to protest Wooden's use of his own name.

Judging by the grace, class and dignity by which he excused himself from what could have been a monstrous legal battle, Coach Wooden must have realized he made a giant mistake the day he signed over the rights to his own last name.

Last Friday, for the first time, John R. Wooden found himself outcoached.