Sitting in a metal folding chair just outside an emergency exit of a downtown Indianapolis hotel, surrounded by barricades and cops, Mick Cronin fired up a 20th Anniversary Rocky Patel Maduro cigar. An hour later, he stoked up another. “If you make the Sweet 16, it’s a two-cigar night,’’ he explained.
It was Monday night after UCLA beat Abilene Christian by 20 to make the Round of 16. The momentarily most-famous basketball coach in southern California was alone with a smoke and a cop, surrounded by enough barricades he thought he was in Beijing. Talk about Madness.
Two years ago, when Cronin left UC for UCLA, West Side for Westwood, some of us could hardly believe it. That was small-M madness, wasn’t it? It wasn’t just culture shock, although picturing Mick cruising the hills of Beverly in a top-down vehicle (or the dales of Encino where he actually lives) did require some imagination. No, it was the idea that he’d have to convince beach boys of the joys of defense.
More:University of Cincinnati will 'review' allegations made against men's basketball program
Defense? Isn’t that when we put SP-50 on our abs before we hit the sand in Huntington? That’s a bogus stereotype, dude. Also, true.
So it was with much amusement we read this slice on Mick’s Bruins last week, from a column in the Los Angeles Times:
“They inspire with their smarts and cohesion. They have become the embodiment of their fiery but affable sideline sorcerer, who has miraculously changed their culture.’’
Now, I dunno ‘bout you, but . . .
I don’t seem to recall coach Cronin ever being cast as a miracle worker around here. Even if the Resurrection he eventually mustered in the wake of Bob Huggins’ scorched-earth exit was close to saintly.
But here we are. UCLA outlasted Michigan State in the First Four with defense that allowed the Bruins to rally from 14 down. Defense locked down BYU in the next round and held Abilene Christian to 46 points and 30 percent from the field. It’s often said that life is strange. But compared to what?
More:Paul Daugherty: The silence is deafening regarding UC's basketball program
“We’re going to find out if you want to win,’’ Cronin told his team last season. “I’m not being hard on them, I’m telling them what they need to do to win. You don’t win if you don’t play defense.’’
The Bruins lost two key players to injury – 6-9 guard Chris Smith, their only senior, in late December, and center Jalen Hill for personal reasons in early February. They got a tough draw having to face Michigan State. Still, Cronin believed if his team could beat the Spartans, “we had a chance to get on a run.’’
He said his current roster is as good as any he assembled in Clifton. Better, arguably, because this Bruins team has more depth than any at UC. For years, we assumed Mick’s preference for plodding offense owed in part to his defense/toughness-first thinking. Actually, some of it was dictated by the players he was able (and unable) to sign. His Bruins are better offensively than almost any of his Bearcats teams. And certainly prettier to watch.
“We shoot well. We pass well. Everyone can score,’’ said Cronin. We never heard him say that here.
What’s more, the sorcerer has done it with no McDonald’s all-Americans. He says it’s the first time “in 30 or 40 years’’ UCLA’s roster is bereft of superstar recruits. “UCLA fan is used to watching high-level talent. UCLA is winning without Lonzo Ball or Reggie Miller or Kareem Abdul-Jabbar,’’ he said.
More:Daugherty: One year later, 'It was a day we'll remember always'
And with a bit more passion for what Cronin liked to call “the uncomfortable things’’ involved in winning games. Defending, rebounding, boxing out, selling out for loose balls. You weren’t a Bearcat until your elbows were raw.
“Can we repeat that effort against Alabama?’’ Cronin wondered. He was talking about the stout defense played in the win over BYU. Just as easily, he could have been describing the Bearcats ethos he inherited from Huggins, and enlarged.
The Bruins play ‘Bama Sunday, for a trip to the Elite 8. For the moment, their coach is settling into the metal chair by the back door of the downtown hotel. It’s not the Hotel Bel-Air. But it works.
Someone, he doesn’t know who, has been dispatched to the cigar store that’s exactly two-tenths of a mile from the hotel. “A three-minute walk, but I can’t go,’’ Cronin explained.
There’s a flower pot next to his chair and a box of smokes at his elbow. All natural, long fillers, aged 10 years. “My cigar spot,’’ said Cronin. “Not bad.’’ Not a bad spot to be in. Not a bad spot at all.
Source link
