It’s Not Easy to Loosen the Collar in Westwood

Walt Hazzard wore a sport shirt to the office Tuesday, with no necktie. It was a sunny day, and those doggone ties can be a pain.

When Hazzard wore one last Sunday for a game up in Corvallis, it was so uncomfortable that Walt had to sort of adjust his collar, really work on it with his open hand.

The referees and some sportswriters interpreted this as a “choke” sign.

Come on. Would the coach of the UCLA Bruins make such an unprofessional playground gesture, even if his team was getting beat, and beat up?

In that game, as his Bruins slipped under .500 (10-11 for the season), Hazzard also had serious discussions with the referees, opposing coaches, opposing players, his own players and himself.

Was Hazzard’s plaster cracking? It was certainly one of his more theatrical performances, reviewed in detail by the local press, and the attention made Walt a little grumpy.

“ Other coaches do that (stuff),” Hazzard said, a trifle indignantly. “ Other coaches curse the officials and call ‘em all kinds of names. But I’m in the fishbowl and under the microscope.”

That sounds like a problem for the UCLA biology department.

Certainly this current position is uncomfortable. Since winning the Pacific 10 championship and postseason tournament last season, with Hazzard voted conference coach of the year, the Bruins have been slipping.

There was a long NCAA investigation into the recruiting of Sean Higgins, a rugged nonconference schedule that humbled the Bruins, a starting center who ran off to Texas, and now a serious battle to stay above .500 (6-5) in the Pac-10.

So what has Hazzard been doing?

“Just survivin’ this gig,” he said, settling down behind his desk and lighting a little cigar.

Not exactly a quotation from Chairman Wooden. But Hazzard has always had a distinctive style. One manifestation of that style is a failure to come off as the Mary Poppins of college hoops.

“The only thing that bothers me about this (recent press mention of his temper) is the imagery that is projected,” Hazzard said. “I’m (portrayed as) a person that never smiles. I’m a mean person.”

Hazzard puffs his mini-cigar and glowers at the thought of anyone even hinting at such a thing.

“Ask my old teammates--Tommy Hawkins, Elgin Baylor, Jerry West. We had big fun in the locker room. But when it comes to the game, basketball is a serious matter. People tell me, ‘Well, smile more.’ What the hell is there to smile about when you’re in the middle of a war?”

It’s not easy trying to act out the great American life story. Greatest college basketball player in the land (1964) helps launch a UCLA dynasty, marries college song-leader sweetheart, raises great family, battles up through the bush leagues of his profession and winds up coaching his alma mater.

The next chapter is the tough one: Coach brings National Collegiate Athletic Assn. championship basketball back to Westwood.

“You’re always under the gun here,” Hazzard said, denying that the pressure on him has increased this year, that the heat is on. “I have a three-year contract. We’re working at our job. We’re not distraught. We’re not clicking our heels together with joy, either.”

Hazzard said he ignores the critics, brushes off the “mixed reviews” of his performances, studiously avoids the Saturday letters column in The Times.

For counsel and comfort, he turns to an informal advisory council composed of (among others) John Wooden, Jerry West, Fred Snowden (former Arizona coach, now an ice cream company executive in L.A.), Walli Jones, Jaleesa Hazzard (Walt’s wife), and Dr. Hazzard.

Walt speaks with his father, who lives in Philadelphia, almost daily. He cites his father’s credentials proudly, as if introducing him at a Hall of Fame induction: “PhD, Temple University, 1952; college president, Philander Smith in Little Rock; Methodist minister, recently retired after 45 years.”

Another member of the Hazzard Advisory Council is Bill Cosby, Walt’s fellow Philadelphian and tennis foe.

“He has a doctorate in education,” Hazzard explained, “he deals with behavior and psychology. And he makes me laugh.”

UCLA basketball always did border on the unreal. So it’s no surprise that Cos, when not selling Jell-O or explaining the meaning of life to Theo and Rudy, helps the UCLA basketball coach maintain his sanity.

That’s no small task.

“A dynasty,” Hazzard said reflectively, looking at the framed magazine covers on his office wall. They outline a 12-year stampede that began with a skinny kid named Walt Hazzard.

“People hope it would come back. It’s not gonna happen. There is no Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, anywhere.”

Hazzard ticks off the names of a dozen other Bruin greats whose types also are extinct, at least in Westwood. Hazzard does not mention his own name.

“But we shall persevere and keep on pushing ahead,” he said.

Under the microscope, under the gun, Walt and the Bruins will push ahead, through the fishbowl, through the looking glass, toward a crazy dream.