Montgomery knows he 'belongs in college basketball'

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.