Despite what he says, Gaillard is not entirely adverse to doing some things to keep people happy. Around his players he wears faded jeans, sneakers and necklaces. Around the alumni he leans to cloth of a different cut—three-piece suits and striped neckties. There were recent rumors that Boynes was homesick. Suddenly his mother flew in to San Francisco, and the coach greeted her with a corsage and a big hug. Sometimes Gaillard hangs around with Bill Russell, a noted non-signer of autographs. A fan will send over a napkin. Rather than create discord, Gaillard will write Russell's name on it.
If at times he appears unconcerned about his team's uneven progress or blas� as his players stumble around the floor, it is again just a matter of adjusting to priorities. Right now Gaillard's team has time on its side. The Dons should stroll through their WCAC schedule; their toughest test will not come until late February against Cincinnati. San Francisco is playing its games with children, but each day they grow up a little.