People Do Matter to Dean Smith; That’s What Makes Him Special

Dean Smith won his 600th game as a college basketball coach on Feb. 11. No big deal. Three days later, Dean Smith won his 601st game as a college basketball coach, when North Carolina beat Maryland.

No big deal . . . again.

Dean Smith wins and wins and wins. During the past seven seasons, his teams have averaged 28 victories. Lefty Driesell, who won more than 500 games in 26 seasons, never won 28 games in a season. Not once. Smith has won that many five of the last six seasons. The season he missed, he won 27.

There are other stunning statistics. Seventeen straight 20-victory seasons, nine ACC titles, seven Final Four appearances and one national championship.

Only one national championship? That is one more than Driesell, one less than Denny Crum and the same number as Jud Heathcote and Joe B. Hall. The question is, do we judge Dean Smith based on the number 600 or on the number one? Knowing Smith, his response would be, “Who are you to judge me?”

Let us judge this much: Dean Smith is one of the best basketball coaches who ever lived. No one goes 600-173 during 26 years in the Atlantic Coast Conference without being superb. And yet, one wonders about that number one because it probably should be at least three.

Consider 1984. North Carolina had some talent: Michael Jordan, Sam Perkins, Kenny Smith, Joe Wolf, to name a few players. And yet, Carolina lost to a much-less-talented Indiana team in the NCAA round of 16. If the Tar Heels had played man to man, it would have been almost impossible to lose. Instead, Smith stubbornly stuck with his trapping defense all night, and Indiana threw the ball over the traps to Steve Alford, who scored 27 points. How many points would Alford have scored if Jordan had guarded him? How many times would Alford have touched the ball?

Go back to the 1977 NCAA championship game. Marquette had blown a 12-point lead and was fading. With the score tied, Carolina got the ball and Smith ordered the four-corners. Mike O’Koren, who had scored 31 points in the semifinals, was at the scorer’s table ready to check in. Bruce Buckley, a workmanlike senior, was in his place. A timeout to get O’Koren back in? No, Smith said stubbornly when an assistant coach suggested it. Buckley had his shot blocked by Bo Ellis, Marquette got the lead and North Carolina never caught up again.

Is this nitpicking? Undoubtedly. But no one appreciates nitpicking more than a man who has his managers chart the layup line before a game.

Dean Smith is always described as enigmatic, complex. In truth, he is neither. Above all else, he is extraordinarily stubborn and the consummate competitor. Years ago, his golfing foursome almost broke up because Smith took losing so hard that it was starting to affect his friendships with the other three players. Nothing is easy with him.

Consider a recent interview: “Have you ever thought about what it means to be coaching in a building named for you?” he was asked.

“You know I’m not going to talk about personal things. Ask me about the seniors. We have four of them.”

“You’re about to win your 600th game.”

“No, it can’t be time for that already. We just did the thing with 500 a couple of years ago.”

“Four years ago.”

“Can’t be, it was at Stanford.”

“Right, December of ’83.”

“That’s only three years ago.”

Actually, three years and two months, but noting that would be pointless.

“About the 600th.”

“It just means I’ve coached a long time.”

He has coached a long time, and even though he says he won’t coach for 35 years, don’t bet on it. He turns 56 next week and, if he coaches 10 more years at his current pace, he would break Adolph Rupp’s all-time record of 880 victories. That is a number even Dean couldn’t just brush off as the product of longevity.

He insists that his pleasure comes from watching a team improve from Oct. 15 on, but that is a coaching euphemism for wanting to win. He hardly ever shows the world how much pressure he feels. Away from the crowds, in the privacy of his office, or even in a hallway before a game, he is a chain smoker who tried quitting a couple of years back by chewing nicotine gum. “I cut back to 10 cigarettes a day,” he said.