Ambassador Crum
By Kevin Hyde
Hall of Fame Coach embraces new role
Standing outside the open door, you can hear scribbling on a note pad. A familiar, slightly hoarse voice fills the hallway.
"Sometimes they would try a diamond-and-two or a box-and-one like this—because they wanted to stop Darrell Griffith. That's when we would use Darrell to screen. Then this guy would become wide open. We would always strive for balance anyway."
Retired University of Louisville basketball coach Denny Crum is meeting with a young coach in his office on the second floor of the University Club on Belknap Campus. It's a cozy space adorned with framed posters and paintings commemorating great moments in Crum's Hall of Fame career. Crum sits in front of a small aquarium—the home to several colorful fish that contrast the black, western-style shirt and black slacks he wears.
He enjoys mentoring coaches. On this day in mid-March—a month that saw so many of Crum's most triumphant moments over the years—he is discussing his general coaching philosophy.
"Basically, I was explaining why we did what we did," Crum says after the hour-long session that stretched closer to an hour and a half. "I didn't have time to get into specifics with him, like this is the play we ran, this is how we taught it, this is the option to that depending on what the defense does.
"Now he wants to come back, which they all do."
And all they have to do is make an appointment. At age 70, Crum remains an eager teacher with a vigorous, competitive spirit that reverberates in his every word—just listen to him talk about Larry Bird.
You can tell he still doesn't like the fact he lost that game of HORSE to him.
Recruiting "Larry Legend"
Some Cardinal fans think the story of Crum's attempt to recruit Bird is folklore—maybe even an urban legend. But most of it is true, the coach says. By all accounts, Crum was just about unbeatable in HORSE—the classic backyard shooting contest where a player must match their opponent shot for shot. Crum always challenged his incoming freshmen to a game.
"I beat every freshman that ever came in here," he grins. "But most of the time after I beat them, I wouldn't play them again, because every day they're going to be doing shooting drills and getting better and better. And I don't have time to do that stuff."
Crum's most effective shot was his patented 40-footer from the side, behind the backboard—an impossible angle from way out of bounds.
"It's got to be perfect. And you have to have the perfect arch to get it over the corner of the board and still be going down."
The coach was automatic from either corner. He could also hook the ball with either hand—a must in HORSE. On top of that, Crum also had anywhere-in-the-gym range.
His secret?
"I worked on a weight thing where you would take a broom handle and a rope and tie weights on the bottom, and I stand up on a bench and roll that rope around that stick," Crum recalls. "It developed my wrists and forearms.
"I didn't care where they put me. It didn't matter. I could shoot from way outside—much farther than most of them could."
In 1974, Larry Bird was a highly recruited high school basketball star from French Lick, Ind. Crum had watched a couple of his games and really wanted Bird to consider Louisville.
"When I sat down to talk to him, he told us that he had already decided that he was going to Indiana," Crum recalls. "I thought maybe if he came to visit he might really like it, so I invited him to make a trip to Louisville."
But Bird insisted that he was committed to Indiana University, and he wasn't going to make any other visits.
"I said, 'Well, let's play a game of HORSE. If I beat you, you come for a visit. If you beat me, you don't have to come.' He said, 'OK.' "
Bird started by hitting a left-handed hook, which Crum was able to match. Then Bird missed his next shot and Crum made another left-handed hook. But Bird matched that.
"Then I tried a different shot and I missed," says Crum, borrowing a notebook and pen. "And then [pointing to a quickly drawn half-court diagram] he got way out here. He was way out there. Here's the mid-court line right here. They had another line right here. If this was the mid-court line right here, you actually had another line here. He would just back way out up here and just bury them. Well, I could hardly see the rim."
Here's where Crum's competitive juices simmer up:
"There were about eight lights out in that little gym and the rim was gray—metallic gray. There was no paint left on it. It had all been knocked off over the years. You could hardly see it.
"I had no shot. I had no shot of out-shooting him in that gym. Whether I could or not in a regular gym, I don't know. But I think I would have done a whole lot better.
"Well, he obviously didn't have to come visit."
Retirement Suits Him
Listening to Crum tell stories—about recruiting Larry Bird or how he first saw Darrell Griffith play in the Dirt Bowl, or how the Cardinals' switching man-to-man defense mystified LSU in the Elite 8 during the 1980 national title run—can be pure delight for a long-time Cardinal fan.
Since his retirement from coaching in 2001, Crum has taken on a new role with the university. He has become a great ambassador for the school throughout the community as well as with alumni groups throughout the country.
A more appropriate description than "ambassador" might be "Minister of Good Vibrations," which fits well with Crum's California roots. It also accurately describes how UofL fans and alumni feel when he shows up at an event.
"He is loved by Cardinal fans from near and far and continues to be one of our biggest draws in working with various groups throughout the country," says Jimmy Ford, assistant vice president for alumni relations. "He truly has a love affair with the University of Louisville, its alumni and fans and lives for the opportunity to speak with groups of all ages about the great things taking place on campus."
Crum describes his job more simply: "I just try to be a good guy and a friend to the people who are with the university and support the university."
What's the biggest thing he misses about coaching?
"The relationship with the players," he says, "because you go through it all. Coach [John] Wooden used to always say, 'You only prosper through adversity.' So as a coach you go through adverse situations in games, with teams and players. Then you go through the highs too.
"You go through so much together that when you're no longer coaching—that's the thing that I miss."
Ironically, Crum says retirement has allowed him to become much closer to several of his former players, "because as a coach you have to keep a certain distance, so they will automatically do what you teach them to do," he explains.
He needed his players to respond quickly to what he was telling them. A 30-second timeout was no time for a debate about what play to run. He also had to be the disciplinarian when players missed class or curfew.
"So you try not to get too close to them," Crum says. "You want to love them and respect them, and you want them to respect and love you too. But the love part you usually don't get until after they get through."
Crum sees "the kids" all the time now—smiling as he talks about recent visits from Mark McSwain, Herb Crook, Eric Johnson and Everick Sullivan.
"Everick is head coach at Vincennes [University]," he says with a mixture of pride and amazement. "He would have been the least likely … because he was not coachable."
The Joe B and Denny Show
One of Crum's most visible (or audible) activities since retirement has been The Joe B and Denny Show, a popular regional radio program he does with former University of Kentucky basketball coach Joe B. Hall.
The show is fashioned off The Wimp and Sonny Show, the Birmingham, Ala.-based radio talk show featuring former Alabama basketball coach Wimp Sanderson and former Auburn coach Sonny Smith. Like Crum and Hall, Sanderson and Smith coached bitter state rivals.
Crum and Hall were guests on the Alabamians' show several times before Lexington-based sports agent Dick Robinson suggested they start their own.
"Joe and Dick were eating at Wheeler's Pharmacy in Lexington," Crum says. "Joe happened to be on the phone with The Wimp and Sonny Show. That's when Dick wrote on a napkin The Joe B. and Denny Show and pushed it over to Joe. When he got off the phone, [Joe] said, 'You know that might be a good idea. Let's go talk to Denny.' "
The Joe B and Denny Show made its debut in March 2004. It is now on 21 stations in Kentucky and West Virginia and is the highest rated sports radio show in the area.
"It's just gotten bigger and better," Crum says. "We enjoy it a lot. Joe and I both have a world of experience in a lot of things. I was an avid golfer. I played baseball and basketball. He played football, and I'm an avid football fan. We both hunt and fish.
"Every sport you can imagine, we've either played or coached. It just worked out well. We talk about whatever people want to call in and talk about. We don't care."
Crum and Hall's easy rapport makes for a breezy, often funny and, for the most part, a kinder and gentler sports talk show in a genre often characterized by over-the-top and negative personalities. The former coaches strive for a feel-good show, Crum says.
"It's not our intention to bad mouth anyone," he says.
Crum and Hall have become fast friends in retirement—something that was impossible during their coaching days.
"It wasn't a bad relationship," Crum says. "It's just that you're too busy doing your own thing. You don't have much of a relationship with the other coaches. The only time you see them is when you play the game against them. Or maybe in the summertime, you were both at a game watching the same kid play.
"I was friendly with all the coaches including Joe. We just didn't have a primary relationship because we didn't have time. Never had an opportunity to."
Denny Crum Court
Retirement from basketball has given Denny Crum the opportunity to do many things he couldn't while coaching. He fuels his drive to compete by playing tournament poker and goes fly fishing in Alaska at least three times a year. He also can reflect on his remarkable career in coaching—something evidenced by his championship rings. He has enough to fill one hand.
Crum was an assistant coach under his mentor John Wooden for three NCAA National Championships at UCLA. And, of course, he coached the Cardinals to National Championships in 1980 and 1986.
But he only wears one ring—the one he received when he was inducted into the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame on May 9, 1994. He was presented to the hall by Wooden.
"In my basketball career that was the best thing that ever happened to me, having Coach Wooden do it and being inducted into the Hall of Fame while I was still coaching," Crum says. "It just couldn't have been any better."
That's why he was so deeply moved this past February when the university officially named the Freedom Hall basketball court "Denny Crum Court."
"I'd put that right up with the Hall of Fame event because that's the result of a career—not any one year or any one game."
The fact that the name will go to the new arena and remain there forever makes it even better, he adds.
"It may not mean much to a lot of people, but you have to understand I was the first one in my family to ever go to college, let alone graduate and coach and do something that stands out in a community.
"When something happens that is the result of all that work and fun and heartbreak and all of it—well, I recognize that and I appreciate that so much."
Crum's successor and current UofL basketball coach Rick Pitino may have said it best in the days before the official naming of the court: "Coach Crum is Louisville basketball."
