Montgomery knows he 'belongs in college basketball'
Published: Sunday, April 6, 2008 at 7:17 a.m.
Last Modified: Sunday, April 6, 2008 at 7:48 a.m.
BERKELEY The phoniest issue
surrounding Mike
Montgomery going
to Cal is that he
was Stanford’s coach. What
matters is whether the guy
can win — not what team
he used to run, even though
it was THAT team. But at
Saturday’s news conference introducing
him to the media, Montgomery referred
to the “elephant in the room.”
He meant the Stanford/Cal thing —
that silly thing.
In discussions with Cal
athletic director Sandy Barbour,
he asked, “Are there a
lot of Cal people who just
won’t accept me?” And because
she is reasonable, Barbour
told him not to worry.
And then she hired him.
He showed up at the news
conference in a blue blazer
and a yellow tie — some Stanford
folks might call him a turncoat. His
wife and daughter were there, and
when someone asked if he’ll move
from Menlo Park to the East Bay, he
said they will move.
“Everybody said my wife will never
leave where we live,” he said. “They
don’t understand there’s Nordstrom
and Neiman Marcus in a lot of communities
around this country.”
That is what is known as a remark
lacking diplomacy. If I said something
like that in public, my wife would
whack me on the head. Montgomery’s
wife smiled tepidly, which all goes to
show Montgomery never had the subtle
touch and never will. But he can
coach. Man, can he coach.
“I belong in college basketball,” he
said, sounding like a man who’d come
home after being lost at sea. “I kind of
proved that.”
He meant he flopped with the Warriors
— he sure did. He said he wishes
he had had more time with the Warriors,
although no one else does. The
NBA is a different game, and his virtues
do not translate to that game.
He enumerated his goals for the
Bears. They are reasonable goals —
the Cal coach who came before him
lacked goals. Well, that guy had one
goal — he covered his behind, made
himself look good even though
he wasn’t. By the end, he was
saying not to judge his teams
by wins and losses. Right.
“Our job is to get this thing
. . . headed toward conference
championships, get this thing
in the NCAA (tournament) consistently,”
Montgomery said.
He was speaking a language
he understands — he is best
talking about the nuts and
bolts of basketball, a nuts-andbolts
game.
“We’ve got to play sound basketball,
play very good defense,
take sound shots, have
guys who play for one another.
I expect us to be winners.
When we walk through airports
as well as across campus,
I expect people to look at us
with respect and awe for what
we’ve accomplished.”
It was refreshing to hear
Montgomery talk with so
much confidence. Prior to him,
everything had been excuses
and rationalizations.
“I don’t have a lot of patience
for careless mistakes,”
he said, “for lack of effort, for
selfishness — the same things
I’ve always felt. If you’re interested
in going to Option Six before
you go to Option One,
we’re not going to get along
very well. If you’re not interested
in getting a loose ball, we’re
not going to get along very
well. If you’re not interested in
hitting an open teammate because
you might be able to
score, we’re not going to get
along very well.”
Running through Montgomery’s
remarks was the theme
of standards. Cal had lost its
standards. And the team lacks
quality players. The former
coach accumulated such a
strange collection. This is a
team with a substandard point
guard. Montgomery, somehow,
must compensate for that. The
best player, Ryan Anderson,
has declared for the NBA draft.
Who can blame him after living
through the insanity of Cal
hoops? But Anderson can undeclare,
and Montgomery will
try to charm him.
“Ryan’s staying at my
house,” Montgomery said in
his deadpan-humor voice.
“We’ve moved out of the master
bedroom.”
Montgomery does not believe
Cal has a built-in ceiling
— only so good, but not better.
“Was there a ceiling at Stanford
when I took that job?” he
asked. “I think people would
have said, ‘Absolutely, you
can’t win there.’ ”
Of course, he won because
he’s a winner. Suddenly, the
Cal-UCLA game will have drama
and meaning and suspense.
Same goes for Cal-Arizona and
Cal and anyone else.
Montgomery took the Cardinal
to the Final Four in 1998,
and he might do that with Cal
at some point during his sixyear
contract. Asked about the
length of his contract, he said:
“It’s to death. I think it’s a
short-term contract.”
He meant he’s 61 and doesn’t
have much more time. But he
looks healthy, and his sarcasm,
actually kind of attractive,
seems to have cleared out
his arteries and veins. And
he’s putting his son John on
his staff, teaching him the family
business, and that keeps a
man young.
Toward the end of the news
conference, just before he
caught a plane to San Antonio
and the Final Four, Montgomery
came back yet again to the
main theme, the issue that
seems to bother him, the Stanford/
Cal paradox in his life.
“There are going to be some
people that don’t like me on
both sides of the bay,” he said.
“Sorry.”
He raised his hands in apology.
Forget it, Mike — nothing
to apologize for.
You can reach Staff Columnist
Lowell Cohn at 521-5486 or
lowell.cohn@pressdemocrat.com.
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