Stewart Has New Attitude

One day in late October, Norm Stewart rolled into the driveway just after basketball practice and just before dinner. Had this been some man other than Stormin’ Norman himself, purveyor of sideline vitriol and scourge of enemy fans and neutral journalists everywhere, there would have been no cause for alarm. As it was, Virginia Stewart, who has been married to Norm since she was the homecoming queen at Missouri and he the star player some 34 years ago, fairly ran to the door, fearing for her mate’s health or sanity at this early arrival.

“What in the world are you doing home?” she recalled saying. “Are you sick?”

Didn’t Norm say after beating colon cancer last spring and after all the treatment and introspection that came as baggage, that there would be no more 18-hour days, that he never would forget the outpouring of good will that rained upon him just as he was about to pass into full-fledged curmudgeonhood, that some things would be different? Didn’t he? Yes, of course, but his wife understood that change would come in stages. “You don’t ever take away wanting to win,” she said.

Stewart’s 23rd season at Missouri (Mizzour-a, as the natives say) has been not only his best, but also his most remarkable. That the Tigers are 25-3 and ranked No. 3 in the country is not so stunning in light of their talent. That they have suddenly and harmoniously found higher ground while awaiting the results of an NCAA investigation that could leave them on probation and while inspired by Stewart’s return from an illness that caused him to collapse last February on a team flight is positively dramatic.

Stewart always had been a poor man’s Bobby Knight, tilting at windmills of injustice wherever he perceived them and raging around the Missouri bench in such a way that he became an institution at home and a pariah on the road. Last season, when he shouted an obscenity at the Nebraska crowd, insulted a campus reporter and allegedly tried to intimidate a beat reporter by threatening his infant son with harm, Stewart seemed on the verge of self-destruction. Then he was diagnosed as having cancer, from which he was pronounced free in August after surgery and treatments.

He came away from the experience appropriately humbled. Of no less significance to him was that his wife also was hospitalized last spring. They recuperated together. “This really sounds strange,” Virginia Stewart said, “but we had a marvelous time. It was a close feeling for us. Almost like a long honeymoon.”

On Oct. 15, 30 pounds lighter and considerably balder, Stewart resumed control of his program. Anyone close recognized an immediate difference, which the coach himself summarizes like so: “Perspective. Bob Wenzel (the Rutgers coach who had life-threatening brain surgery several years ago) said something to me about it. You get it when you touch your own mortality.”

But when Stewart talks about his enlightenment, a sly and slightly crooked smile crosses his face. There is something here to understand about this complicated man, nothing that can be explained away in something as hoary as smelling the roses. To be sure, he is more relaxed now.

“I used to run into him before games and he wouldn’t even speak to me,” said Dave Knight, a Columbia attorney and longtime friend of Stewart. “Now we can have a chat. I think he’s looking long term.”

His calm and his recovery have affected his team. “He’s been so relaxed this year that it’s rubbed off on these kids,” Missouri Athletic Director Dick Tamburo said.

Anthony Peeler, the Tigers’ terrific 6-4 sophomore shooting guard, was on the plane when Stewart collapsed. “That showed us that you can’t plan anything ahead,” Peeler said. “It comes down to life, and taking one day at a time. You don’t see any of us giving each other grief anymore.”

But do not believe Stewart has been overcome by his new perspective. There are those who say Stormin’ Norman, who maniacally pushed 11 overachieving teams into the NCAA Tournament, was a calculated creation itself. “He had an image that he used to protect his teams,” said Bill Kircher, another longtime Stewart acquaintance. “When he was short on talent, he won with that attitude.”

Now, he has simply given up fighting the little fights. The big ones, well, those he approaches as he always has.

He sat recently in his office at the Hearnes Center, while a couple of concrete walls away the state wrestling tournament was taking place, forcing his team to practice in a small auxiliary gym. “I’ve fought for a lot of things here that I think should be prioritized and consequently have created some images,” he said. “Now, if they want to have a wrestling meet, go right ahead.” In the past? “I would have had something to say.”

Beating back bureaucracy? That’s a little fight. Arguing with officials? Little fight. Correcting (and berating) sportswriters? Another little fight. Winning games? Bigger fight, but with the likes of Peeler and Doug Smith, that takes care of itself better than it used to. Talent works wonders and Stewart has a true affinity for this team, a clear Final Four threat. “I would not trade them,” he said.

The NCAA investigation is another matter. Missouri assistant coach Bob Sundvold turned himself in last December -- and was suspended -- for providing a plane ticket for a player. Stewart’s program never has been investigated before, but the Sundvold admission alone could carry a year’s sanctions.