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Remembering Coach Al
With apologies to Paul Simon, today you can call me Zeth. That's what most of my buddies called me during my last two years in college. It eventually got to the point where, by the end of senior year, people would sometimes ask me where the nickname came from. And I would tell them proudly that it came from Al McGuire. I didn't know Coach Al all that well -- I was only seven years old when Marquette won the 1977 national championship -- but, like everyone else in this business, I've got a few stories. My favorite stems from the time I first met him, when I was a junior at Duke and he came to town to call a game for NBC. I asked him to tape a quick promo for a sports talk show I hosted on the student-run campus station. All I needed him to say on camera was, "This is Al McGuire. Seth, you have no clue." He was, as you know, an agreeable sort. He said he'd do it. He looked right in the camera and said, "Hey, gang, this is Al McGuire from NBC Sports. Zeth, you have no clue." I didn't want to be impolite, so I asked him to repeat the line, emphasizing the correct pronunciation of my name. The camera rolled. He again called me "Zeth." End of promo. I showed the tape to my friends, who, of course, thought it was hysterical. From then on, as far as they were concerned, I was Zeth. I owe it to Coach Al. McGuire was brilliant, but he was also -- and I mean this in the most affectionate way -- something of a flake. He took some heat from media critics over the years for not studying up more on the players, but that was just his way. I've heard that when he coached, he would forget his own players' names sometimes. If he wanted their attention, he'd say, "Twenty-one, get over here." I remember sitting in the bleachers in Cameron Indoor Stadium with him as we watched the 1990-91 Blue Devils (a team that would go on to win the NCAA title) practice. McGuire held a legal pad and a pen and started pointing at the players on the court and asking me their names. "That's Bobby Hurley," I said, telling him how to spell the name. "That's Grant Hill." It seemed as if he had no idea who they were. As I said, I wasn't close with Coach Al, but I had his home phone number and he encouraged me to use it. Whenever we were preparing a trend or retrospective piece at Sports Illustrated, I'd be sure to call him first, Dean Smith second. McGuire was a sweetheart and a magnificent storyteller. He told me once about an incident that happened during halftime of Marquette's win over Cincinnati in the first round of the '77 tourney. As the team walked off the floor, one of his players, forward Bernard Toone, complained to McGuire that he hadn't played enough. Coach Al told him to clam up. Toone complained again in the locker room. Without warning, McGuire jumped Toone and wrestled him to the ground. As I recall, he said one of the team's trainers fractured a wrist pulling him off of the player. Coach Al laughed as he recounted the story to me: "The other team is in their locker room talking strategy and X's and O's, and we're having a rumble." He also thought the fight helped the team to the title. Go figure. Flaky and funny, simple and mysterious, witty and ironic. There will be never be another like him. I didn't know you well, Coach Al, but I'm going to miss you something awful. Your buddy, Zeth Davis OTHER HOOP THOUGHTS FOR THE WEEK Sports Illustrated staff writer Seth Davis covers college basketball for the magazine and is a regular contributor to CNNSI.com. Hoop Thoughts will appear each week throughout the college basketball season.
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