A little more on the ‘list’; Touching on the Roy Williams controversy

Let me begin today by trying to explain how in the world I left Jackie Robinson off the most important athletes list yesterday—before realizing on my way to lunch, ‘Oh My God I Left Jackie Robinson out!’ Here’s my explanation: I have none. Sometimes you just mind-block. Usually I do it at the grocery store—‘what the heck did my kids tell me to get?’—or on Christmas shopping—“Is today the 16th, jeez maybe I ought to do something about gifts.”

This one I just screwed up. Curt Flood and Jesse Owens should have been on there too and I somehow mentioned Muhammad Ali as an example of someone whose influence went well beyond his ability to box and then left HIM off the list. That may have something to do with the fact that I almost never think about boxing anymore. Ali was just about the last boxer I really cared about because even though I covered Sugar Ray Leonard a little bit I never really bought into his act.

The other person who was mentioned by posters yesterday who I don’t consider an automatic but deserves serious consideration is Bobby Orr because he did change the way defensemen played hockey. The notion of a defenseman scoring 20 goals, much less leading the league in scoring was unheard of before Orr.

I’m not going to go through the entire list today, maybe I’ll just do one guy at a time over the next few weeks so that I can go into a little more detail than a sentence or two on each. What is interesting, as some people pointed out, is that I had 20 people even with the omissions which means there are about 25 who seemingly HAVE to be on the list. To try to pare that list to say, 10, would be virtually impossible. And all of us can think of others who deserve consideration: Did Cal Ripken save baseball in 1995? Should all the steroid stars—Bonds, McGwire, Sosa, Clemens et al—be mentioned because they certainly changed the way their sport was viewed. Althea Gibson? John McEnroe and Jimmy Connors—both of whom certainly changed tennis?

Plus, I didn’t even try to include coaches or managers on the list and trying to pick just ten of THEM would be almost impossible. Let’s just say you were doing Mount Rushmore for those guys: John Wooden, right? Vince Lombardi? Red Auerbach? Scotty Bowman? That would mean leaving out (among others) Dean Smith, Bob Knight, Mike Krzyzewski, Phil Jackson, Casey Stengel, John McGraw, Toe Blake, Al Arbour, Chuck Noll, Don Shula, Bill Walsh, Joe Paterno, Bobby Bowden, Bear Bryant and Knute Rockne. That’s just in the four major sports and no doubt I’m mind-blocking on someone right now.

In short, there’s plenty of room to discuss this more in the future.

This morning though I feel I have to weigh in on this Roy Williams controversy because I keep getting asked about it—which is actually a little bit of a relief because it means a few minutes less of being asked to psycho-analyze Tiger Woods.

Ole Roy—as he often calls himself—had a fan of the Presbyterian Blue Hose removed from the Dean Dome last Saturday during a North Carolina rout of a badly overmatched team. Apparently the guy stood up as Deon Thompson was shooting a free throw and yelled, “Don’t miss Deon!”

My guess is his major crime was waking up what was left of the crowd from a nice nap. Since he was sitting in the section reserved for FOR (Friends of Roy) and since Roy and others could clearly heard him, Roy got upset and had the guy removed.

Okay, let’s not make this into a big deal because it’s not. Did Roy overreact? Yes—even if some of his loyal supporters have jumped in claiming the fan in question was drunk, was rude, didn’t have a ticket (or should NOT have had a ticket) in that section, had used profanity prior to his crack AND was involved in the conspiracy to kidnap the Lindbergh baby. Deon Thompson, by the way, somehow shook off the ‘heckling,’ to make his free throw.

The fact is Roy didn’t have him thrown out for any of that—whether it was true or un-true as the fan in question and others sitting around him have said. Roy had him thrown out for yelling, “Don’t miss Deon.” Roy should just apologize and let that be the end of it.

Let me say this about Roy Williams right here: I really like the guy, which galls some of my Duke friends. If you question his abilities as a coach, you’re insane, just check the record. And I know people roll their eyes at times about all the ‘aw shucks, I’m just an ole country boy stuff,’ but most, if not all of it, is genuine. If some of it is put on because it helps recruiting guess what?—it works.

In 1991 when I was working for the late, lamented National Sports Daily I wrote a column about Dean Smith after the ACC Tournament basically saying that some of the little feuds he picked were beneath him. The freshest example I used was his refusal to go on the Raycom ACC Tournament telecasts either pre-game on tape or postgame live, in part because he was upset that they hadn’t hired any ex-Carolina players to do color commentary and in part because he thought that Dan Bonner (by far Raycom’s best analyst) had defended what he (Dean) perceived to be dirty play by Virginia. Bonner—surprise—played at Virginia so Dean saw a conspiracy.

The column set off a firestorm. Even though I had always had a good relationship with Dean and with almost everyone I knew at Carolina this was proof—absolute PROOF—that I was a Duke apologist and I was out to get Dean. Frank Deford, who was the editor of The National, showed me some of the letters which accused me of being guilty of most crimes committed in the 20th century, virtually all in the name of embarrassing Carolina and Dean.

Eddie Fogler, who I’d been friends with for years, walked up to me at The Final Four and said, “You are the worst sportswriter in America.”

“Coming from you Eddie,” I answered, “I consider that high praise.”

Duke ended up winning its first national championship that year—no doubt because of my efforts—beating Kansas, coached by Roy Williams, in the final.

A couple of weeks after the Final Four I got a lengthy handwritten letter from Roy. He talked about how much he had always valued our friendship and how much respect he had for me. Then he began to talk about Dean—“Coach Smith,”—and how much he meant to him. At the end of the letter he wrote: “John, I know a lot’s been said that’s unfair to you but I think you know not a word of that has come from Coach Smith. He may disagree with you on this but I know he respects you just as I know how much you respect him. I think the two of you should talk at some point this summer. If need be I will fly into Chapel Hill to make the meeting happen. This is that important to me because of how I feel about you and because there is no one in the world more important to me than Coach Smith.”

Dean and I did talk and agreed to disagree on Bonner and who should or should not be doing color on ACC games and on several other topics. I remember him saying, “At least concede this: when you and I argue it’s usually because I’m standing up for my players.”

I told him I knew that he ALWAYS stood up for his players. I also told him about Roy’s letter. There wasn’t anything phony in that letter and I could tell you a half dozen other stories that would illustrate why Roy is a good guy.

The only thing as silly as Duke fans trying to make Roy out to be a bad guy is when Carolina fans try to make Mike Krzyzewski out to be a bad guy. BOTH are Hall of Fame coaches and BOTH are outstanding men. They have very different styles on and off the court and I enjoy them both.

Do they make mistakes? Of course they do—who among us doesn’t? Theirs are just made in public a lot of the time. So Roy overreacted and it set off a minor firestorm. He ought to shrug his shoulders and say, “Ole Roy is probably a little bit sensitive sometimes.”

Because he is. Which doesn’t make him a bad guy by any stretch of the imagination.

Harvard beating BC -- one reason I love college basketball; Stories of Tommy Amaker

If you want to know why I love college basketball, consider the following: In the calendar year 2009, Harvard University has a record of 2-0 against crosstown rival Boston College. In that same calendar year, North Carolina coached by hard-working Hall of Famer Roy Williams was 0-1 against Boston College. Duke, coached by two-time Olympic coach and Hall of Famer Mike Krzyzewski was 1-1 against the Eagles.

Think about that: Harvard, which last played in the NCAA Tournament in 1946 (its only appearance) has beaten BC twice—once last January a few days after the Eagles had won AT North Carolina—and once last night, 73-67. Both Harvard victories took place (surprise) at BC.

Now you may say I have a bias here—and I do—because I’ve known Harvard Coach Tommy Amaker since he was a high school junior. In this case though my bias has very little to do with it, especially since Frank Sullivan, the man Amaker succeeded at Harvard, is a good friend whose firing three years ago was grossly unfair.

In fact, I would say this: if any Ivy League team beat an ACC team two seasons in a row I would get a big kick out of it. It just isn’t supposed to happen. And yet, in college basketball, results like that DO happen. Already this season Cornell has won at Alabama and in seasons past my friends in The Patriot League have pulled off some decent sized upsets as in Bucknell over Kansas and Arkansas in back-to-back NCAA Tournaments and Holy Cross going into Notre Dame and beating the Irish in the NIT.

Let’s go back to Amaker for a moment. I remember the first time I saw him play because it’s a funny story. I was doing a magazine piece on Mike Krzyzewski, who had just finished his first season at Duke and had more or less washed out in recruiting—finishing second for players like Chris Mullin, Bill Wennington, Uwe Blab and Jim Miller. In recruiting, finishing second and $4 will get you a latte at Starbucks.

Krzyzewski was in Washington to see Johnny Dawkins play in the old Jelleff League, which was up Wisconsin Avenue in northwest DC. The league was a Washington tradition, with games played indoors and outdoors and was most famous for a game in the early 1970s when DeMatha was supposed to play St. Anthony’s for the championship. Because DeMatha Coach Morgan Wootten had refused to schedule St. Anthony’s during the regular season, St. Anthony’s Coach John Thompson played his cheerleaders in the game.

“If he won’t play me in the winter, I’m not playing him in the summer,” Thompson said at the time.

When Thompson was the coach at Georgetown he refused to recruit any of Wootten’s great players. I asked him about that once and he said to me, “there are some people on this earth who you can live away from.” Of course now that Wootten and Thompson are both retired and in the Hall of Fame they joke when Wootten appears on Thompson’s radio show about how the media created their alleged feud.

Sure. And Thompson and Lefty Driesell were buddies back then too.

Anyway, on this particular night, Krzyzewski was sitting in the stands watching Dawkins play when Red Jenkins, then the coach at W.T. Woodson High School in northern Virginia stopped to say hello to him. “You need to stay for the next game,” Jenkins said. “You need to see my point guard. He’s only going to be a junior and he’s little but watch him play.”

Krzyzewski figured he didn’t have much else to do so he decided to stick around at least for a few minutes to see what Jenkins was talking about. “Red’s a good coach,” he said. “I don’t think he’d tell me to watch this kid unless he was pretty good.”

By halftime, Krzyzewski was like a teen-age kid in love for the first time. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Amaker, who probably weighed about 140 pounds at the time. Someone had pointed Amaker’s mother out to Krzyzewski and at halftime he walked over and said (probably breaking about 14 NCAA rules) to her: “Your son is going to look great in Duke blue.”

The funny thing is Amaker really wanted to go to Maryland because John Lucas had been his boyhood hero. But Lefty had recruited a kid named Keith Gatlin so he didn’t pursue Amaker, who was only 6-feet-tall, that hard. A few years later when Amaker was a junior at Duke and Gatlin was a sophomore at Maryland, Gatlin sat out a game at Duke with a bad back.

That was the year I was in Indiana doing ‘Season on the Brink.’ Two days after the game at Duke, Maryland played at Notre Dame. I drove up to South Bend to see the game and my friend Sally Jenkins, who was covering the Terrapins at the time. When I walked into the arena the first person I saw was Driesell.

“Hey Lefty, how’s Gatlin feeling?” I asked.

Lefty looked at me quizzically. “Gatlin?” he said. “He’s fine.”

“Really? I saw where he didn’t play at Duke because something was wrong with his back.”

“Oh that was nothing,” Lefty said waving his hand. “He just had a case of Amaker-back.”

Any guard knowing he was going to be guarded by Amaker for 40 minutes began to feel back pain. Gatlin was no exception.

Amaker seemed destined for stardom when he became a college coach. In his third year at Seton Hall he took the Pirates to the Sweet Sixteen and he had a big time recruiting class on the way including Eddie Griffin, who was supposed to be a superstar. But Griffin proved to be a troubled kid and at the end of the ’01 season he left for the NBA and Amaker left for Michigan. There, he constantly seemed on the verge of turning the program around after taking over in the wake of the revelations about The Fab Five, but never made the NCAA Tournament in six seasons. He was fired after the ’07 season—a stunning turnaround for someone who had appeared to be a lock for coaching stardom.

He landed at Harvard but not without controversy, although it wasn’t his doing. Frank Sullivan had done remarkable work keeping Harvard competitive for 16 years working with one hand tied behind his back in recruiting because Harvard’s admissions standards were far more difficult than any other school in the Ivy League—not to mention the entire country.

When Amaker got the job, Harvard agreed to loosen the admissions standards to bring them in line with the rest of The Ivy League. Naturally, other Ivy League coaches instantly noticed that Amaker was recruiting kids that Sullivan couldn’t have touched and they talked about it to Pete Thamel of The New York Times. Harvard’s response should have been simple: “Yes, we decided to give our new coach a level playing field to recruit just as we do in football and hockey.” Instead, some blowhard in admissions insisted the standards hadn’t changed and Bob Scalise, the athletic director, tried to claim Amaker was just a better recruiter than Sullivan.

Whether that’s true no one will ever know because the two men were working under completely different sets of rules. Regardless, Amaker’s done a good recruiting job with a more level playing field and his third Harvard team appears to be behind only Cornell right now in The Ivy League. The Crimson play at Cornell on January 30th and host the Big Red on February 20th. Both those games will probably be worth seeing.

Maybe next year there can be an ACC-Ivy League Challenge Series. As of right now, The Ivies appear to have the edge. Come on, even if that’s not close to true, you have to love it. I wonder when the BC folks will let Harvard know that they won’t be playing anymore. My over-under is sometime this morning.

A Long, Great Monday at ‘The Bruce’

I know I wrote last week about Bruce Edwards and the annual charity golf tournament--'The Bruce,' as everyone calls it--but we held our fifth one yesterday and I would be remiss if I didn't write about it today.

There are a lot of bad things going on in the world every day but when you get involved in an event like this one--and I'm sure anyone who has ever been involved in a charity event of any kind can attest to this--you really find out a lot about people. The most gratifying thing is that most of it is good.

Many people are aware of Tom Watson's tireless efforts to raise money for ALS research since Bruce was first diagnosed in January of 2003. I've said often that I honestly think Tom knows more about ALS and what's going on in that world than any non-doctor alive. But he's not the only one--by any stretch--who has worked to make this event a success. His pal Andy North always comes and plays a major role in what we do not just by playing but encouraging other guys to come and helping out in any way he can. Last night we had an auction item that was three flags in one frame--one from The Masters, one from the U.S. Open, one from The British Open. Tom had signed them all with the years he had won them.

Obviously Tom wasn't going to get up and tell people that this was--literally--a one of a kind item because there's nothing else like it in existence. Andy volunteered to do it and spoke warmly and emotionally about how proud he was of his friend during this year's British Open. Andy is what my mom always calls a mensch.

So is John Cook. Bruce worked for him a lot during weeks when Tom wasn't working and John, in his own quiet way, is as loyal to Bruce and his family as Tom has been. He's been to every 'Bruce,' regardless of his schedule and last night HE got up to talk about our other, 'Tom,' item: six framed Sports Illustrated covers after Tom won majors--all autographed too. Before handing the microphone back to the auctioneer John said quietly, "I'd like to start the bidding at $7,500--and I'm the bidder."

You could see that Tom was knocked back a little bit by that gesture.

Both those items were put together for us by Neil Oxman. You may have heard Neil's name during The British Open because he now caddies for Tom during odd-numbered years. The reason for that is that Neil is one of the top political consultants in the country and the even-numbered years he buried in work trying to get Democrats around the country elected--something Tom forgives him for. Talk about an odd couple. The two guys love one another and they agree on absolutely NOTHING politically.

It was Neil who first suggested to Bruce in 1973 in St. Louis that he see if Watson, carrying his bag into the clubhouse after returning from his honeymoon, might need a caddy for the week. The rest, as they say, is history. Neil was in law school then, caddying during the summer and he and Bruce had become friends. Bruce's other close friend early on tour was Bill Leahy, who, like Neil, went on to make a lot of money (at Smith-Barney) and now plays a huge role in 'the Bruce,' every year. No way does the event happen each year without Neil and Bill.

I really don't want to turn this into a list of 'thank-you's' because I know how boring they are but guys like Paul Goydos and Billy Andrade and Jim Calhoun and Gary Williams have been amazing. So has Steve Bisciotti--or as I like to call him, the anti-Dan Snyder--who has played every year and has always been the leader in the clubhouse during the auction. I have never met a truly wealthy person less impressed with the fact that he's wealthy than Steve. Like I said, the anti-Dan Snyder.

There's no doubt that putting on an event like this is really hard because there are always crises you can't anticipate. Guys drop out--some for very legitimate reasons like Jim Boeheim tearing ligaments in his ankle and breaking a rib (while playing golf!) and others who just drop out because they decide its too much work to get there. I'd honestly prefer if they just said no in the first place. Somehow, we make due every year and guys often have stepped up to help at the last minute.

The day always has funny moments--my favorite was the year when Gary Williams introduced Mike Krzyzewski as the dinner speaker. Mike's a non-golfer but came to speak anyway. "This is my dream come true," Gary said in his best deadpan tone. "Being the warm-up act for Coach K."

Mike came up and said, "As I was packing this morning my wife said, 'remind me again, where are you going tonight?' I told her, 'I'm going to a golf tournament and I'm being introduced by Gary Williams.' She said, 'no seriously, tell me where you're going.'"

Another year Gary and Roy Williams each agreed to auction off a seat on their benches for the Maryland-Carolina game in College Park. This was 2006, the year Roy had lost his top seven scorers after winning the national championship. "Now you understand," Roy said. "The seat we're auctioning off here is MINE. I'm going to go sit with Gary."

"You can have MY seat," Gary said, which wouldn't have done much good since he doesn't have a seat on the Maryland bench, which makes sense since he hasn't sat down yet in 30 years as a head coach.

The good news from last night is that even in a down economy we managed to raise about $350,000 which will go to The Robert Packard Center for ALS Research at Johns Hopkins. We're now closing in on $3 million after five years of doing this. The better news was that one of the scientists from Packard spoke to the group and told us that there is actually--FINALLY--the beginnings of hope that a cure will be found. You could hear a pin drop as she spoke even though most of us could actually understand maybe 20 percent of what was being explained to us. The day was a lot of fun but that news was really what it was all about.

Am I tired today? You bet. Am I proud to know all of these people (and others I didn't get a chance to mention)? You bet.

8 Years Ago Seems Like Yesterday; Army Hall of Fame Induction Dinner Tonight

There is a story on the front page of this morning's Washington Post about kids who are now fifth, sixth and seventh graders who are learning about the events of 9-11 from history books. When I saw the headline I was briefly stunned, because like most people, I'm sure, I remember the events of that day as if they took place yesterday. But eight years is a long time in the life of a child. My daughter Brigid, who is 11, claims to remember 9-11, but I think she remembers more of what she's read than what she saw or heard. Danny, my 15-year-old, does remember it. In fact, one of my most chilling moments--among many--was going to school to pick him up and hearing him say, "dad, are they going to try to fly a plane into our house?"

One thing that came out of 9-11 was a toning down, at least for a while, of political vitriol. Most of us can still remember the sight of members of Congress--Democrat and Republican--standing on the steps of the capitol that night singing, 'God Bless America.' For once, the country banded together because never had evil been more clearly defined for us. It wasn't a liberal; it wasn't a conservative, it was crazed zealots who steered airplanes into buildings and those who danced in the streets to celebrate.

Now, that's all gone. (Those of you who don't like reading me on the subject of politics should skip the next couple of paragraphs). The scene the other night in The House of Representatives when Joe Wilson of South Carolina shouted, "you lie," at President Obama during his health care speech--and, even worse some of the reaction to it--shows just how far we have slid backwards in eight years. Let's not even debate here (because this really ISN'T a political blog) about whether illegal aliens would be included in the bill even though people on both sides of the aisle reading the bill on Thursday said they clearly would not.

The point is this: under no circumstances do you heckle The President of the United States. The guy who threw the shoes at President Bush went to jail--which is fine with me because he tried to assault him. Wilson shouldn't go to jail, but he should resign. Imagine, for a moment, if, say Barney Frank, had screamed at Bush during a speech to Congress what the reaction on the right would have been. Instead, there were still Republicans trying to claim that Wilson's facts were right--as if that would be a defense--and then the insane right wing pundits were saying he should not have apologized.

Sorry folks. You can completely disagree with any president on any issue. But there is such a thing as respect for the office and decorum. Several years ago, at the height of the Iraq war I was invited to a breakfast at The White House as part of the National Literary Festival. I sent regrets for this reason: I could not, at that moment, bring myself to shake hands with President Bush because I believed he was needlessly putting thousands of young Americans in harm's way and I was very angry about it. I had friends in Iraq and had known several people who had died or been wounded there. But I would NEVER accept the invitation and then be rude to The President in The White House. If I went, I would shake his hand and say, "Mr. President, thank you for the invitation. It is always an honor to be inside The White House."

If Wilson was so emotional on this issue, he should have stayed away from the speech. What's more, his apology was a non-apology. Even after making it he was still insisting he was right about the bill.

(Okay ditto-heads et al it is now safe to return to the blog).

As luck would have it, I will be at West Point tonight, certainly a place that is appropriate on this anniversary. Army is having its annual Hall of Fame induction dinner tonight and I was asked to MC, largely because the best-known of the eight inductees is Mike Krzyzewski. I'm old enough that I saw Krzyzewski PLAY at Army, on Bob Knight-coached NIT teams. In 1969, Army played South Carolina in the NIT quarterfinals. South Carolina had been ranked in the top ten most of the year but had lost the ACC Tournament and since only the tournament champion made the NCAA Tournament back then, the Gamecocks came to New York. Krzyzewski shut down John Roche and Army won the game. Years later, Bobby Cremins told me a story about that night.

"We were down and had to come out of our zone and go man-to-man," he said. "As we came out of the huddle Frank (McGuire) said, 'Bobby, who've you got?' I said, 'I got the kid with the big nose whose name I can't pronounce.'"

I first met Krzyzewski my senior year in college when Duke played Connecticut (not a power back then) in Madison Square Garden. I flew to New York a day early with Coach Bill Foster and Duke's star guard, Tate Armstrong. We attended what was then the weekly New York coaches luncheon at Mama Leone's where Foster--who had coached at Rutgers--spoke to a lot of old friends. By then, Krzyzewski was coaching at Army and Jim Valvano--who had played for Foster at Rutgers--was at Iona. After lunch, Foster introduced me to both of them.

"John does a great Dean Smith impression," Foster said. (Actually to quote Dean's long-time SID Rick Brewer, EVERYONE did a Dean impression in those days). It didn't take a lot of coaxing before I did it, referring often to the importance of seniors.

Krzyzewski and Valvano both laughed, little knowing how important Smith would become in their lives a few years later. Of course I had no idea how important Krzyzewski and Valvano would become in my life.

The funny thing is there seems to be a rule that, because I went to Duke, I'm not supposed to say or write anything good about Krzyzewski because I'm doing it just because I'm a "Dukie." Anyone who knows me at all knows I'm hardly considered a loyal son by Duke people and most people know just how much respect and affection I have for Dean Smith. But just as people in politics like to put simplistic labels on people, those in sports do the same. Heck, if you pick up a Duke media guide on the distinguished graduates page under "journalism," they list some woman who was on 'Survivor." I don't make the cut. Maybe calling the last two presidents a liar (Nan Keohane) and a weakling (Richard Brodhead) has something to do with it.

I don't need to defend Krzyzewski's coaching record on any level so I will leave you with one story about Krzyzewski the person and if telling it makes me a "Dukie," so be it. Three years ago, my father died two nights before Duke played North Carolina in Chapel Hill. The funeral was on the day of that game. Duke won in the final minute. Needless to say I didn't get to watch.

The next morning my phone rang and I heard Krzyzewski's familiar nasal voice. Almost always he will open a conversation with some kind of joke or putdown. He once returned a call I'd made to him on New Year's Day and said, "how does it feel knowing the highlight of your year (his calling) has come and gone and the year isn't even 24 hours old yet?"

This time he just said, "how are you holding up?" I told him I was okay, my dad had been almost 85 and he'd lived an amazing life.

"I want to tell you something," Krzyzewski said. "Last night, during our last time out, I stepped away from the huddle for a second and looked up and just said, 'Martin, this one's for you.'"

The last college basketball team my dad ever cared about was CCNY--where he graduated in 1941. Even so, I got pretty choked up at the thought and the sentiment.

That's why, Dukie or not, I'm honored to be part of the ceremony tonight. And I know that all of us in the room, Democrats and Republicans, will take a long moment to honor those who were killed eight years ago today. I can only hope that most of us will remember how that day felt when this day is over.

Coach K and 2012 Olympics – Great for USA Basketball, Not So for Duke, Himself

I guess it is now official that Mike Krzyzewski will coach the 2012 Olympic basketball team.

From the point of view of USA Basketball, the decision makes absolute sense. You are putting the team in the hands of a coach who has proven he can coach the international game; has won the confidence of the NBA stars who will make up the team and already has three years of experience in preparing to win an Olympics.

From the point of view of Krzyzewski, who has been a friend of mine for 30 years, I think accepting the job is a mistake.

I understand why he did it: he feels an obligation to his country—Krzyzewski isn’t one of those guys who talks patriotism, he really and truly believes it—to Jerry Colangelo, who picked him to coach the team in spite of many doubters back in 2005 and to USA Basketball, an entity he has worked with for more than 20 years now.

I get all that. There’s also the simple fact that he’ll enjoy it. If you’re a coach, why wouldn’t you want to coach the best players and represent your country? There’s also ego involved: all the great coaches out there and USA Basketball wants him—again.

As I said, I understand the decision, I just wish he hadn’t made it.

When Krzyzewski was asked to coach the Olympic team following the debacle in Athens, he NEEDED to do it. Why? Because anyone who is any good at anything needs new challenges and needs to find out if he can do something he’s never done before. He’d made the decision years earlier that the NBA lifestyle wouldn’t fit him so this was his chance to prove—to himself and others—that he could coach NBA players, deal with all the egos, put together a cohesive unit and win the gold medal.

He did it. And, by all accounts, he did a superb job at every level, learning as he went—always one of his great strengths—so that he was a much better international coach in 2008 than he was in 2006 when the U.S. finished third in The World Championships.

Now, there’s nothing left to prove. The Redeem Team redeemed. Krzyzewski’s resume is as complete as any in history and, in all likelihood, he will pass his mentor Bob Knight as the all-time winningest coach in college basketball history sometime in 2012. He’s currently sitting at 833 wins—46 away from Dean Smith and 69 short of Knight.

Krzyzewski’s got one thing he needs to do over the next few years: restore Duke basketball.

On the face of it, that’s an absolutely ridiculous thing to say. Duke was 30-7 last season. It won the ACC Tournament and reached the NCAA Sweet 16. That’s the kind of season that gets most coaches lucrative contract extensions.

But Krzyzewski is not most coaches. He’s a coach who went to 10 Final Fours in 19 seasons from 1986 to 2004, winning three national titles along the way. He’s also a coach whose arch-rival, North Carolina, has been to three Final Fours in the last five years, winning tow national championships during that time. Duke’s record against North Carolina during that time is 3-7. You think that makes Krzyzewski happy?

No. Duke can put out press releases all over the place citing the gaudy numbers of last year or the year before (28-6) but here are the only numbers Krzyzewski cares about. Since 2005 Duke’s been to zero Final Fours. It barely squeezed into its first Sweet Sixteen in three years last March and then got crushed in Boston by Villanova. Elliot Williams, who would have been a key player in the backcourt this coming season, transferred to Memphis.

Duke has not—NOT—been getting the kind of player it got during the Golden Years. There are lots of reasons for that—one being the over-the-top anti-Duke backlash that exists (if I had a nickel for every time someone said to me, ‘you’re a pretty good guy for a Duke guy,’ I would be long-retired)—but they have added up to a clear recruiting gap between Duke and North Carolina and a handful of other top programs.

Krzyzewski likes to do lots of different things. He’s a wonderful speaker; I think he’s been involved in more books than I have; he does loads of charity work. You can’t knock any of that. But right now, at this moment in his life, he needs to dig in the way he’s dug in before and really get after it. I’m not knocking his work ethic on any level: in fact, I’m someone who has at times urged him to work LESS hard.

But here’s what opposing recruiters are going to be saying about him right now: You want to play for a coach whose focus might not be 100 percent because he’s coaching the Olympic team again? You think he’s going to have time to recruit the best players around you?

Doesn’t matter if there’s any truth in it at all. Recruiting isn’t about reality, it’s about perception.

I sincerely hope Krzyzewski proves me 100 percent wrong on all of this and tells me—as he most certainly will—to stick my opinions in a well-hidden place. But I still think this is good for USA Basketball, not so good for Mike Krzyzewski. And, to be honest, I care a lot more about the latter than the former.