Progress for Black Head Coaches--but Not That Much

Eight years ago, on the eve of John Thompson’s first appearance in a national championship game, a reporter asked the Georgetown basketball coach if he was proud to be the first black head coach to reach the NCAA’s Final Four.

It was perhaps the single question Thompson had been waiting for. “I resent the hell out of that question,” he said angrily that Sunday afternoon before his team played North Carolina for the title. “It implies that I am the first black man to be accomplished enough and intelligent enough to do this. It is an insult to my race. There have been plenty of others who could have gotten here if they had been given the opportunity they deserved. That question is very offensive to me.”

Thompson added that he would be proud when schools that hired black recruiters (to lure talented black players) saw fit to hire them as head coaches; that he would be proud when a dozen or so other black coaches had the same opportunity he had to make it to the Final Four.

And now, on that front, there are encouraging signs. When the 1990 NCAA tournament begins Thursday, Thompson will be one of nine black head coaches in the tournament. Minnesota’s Clem Haskins, Ohio State’s Randy Ayers, Boston University’s Mike Jarvis, Temple’s John Chaney, Arkansas’ Nolan Richardson, Robert Morris’s Jarrett Durham, Texas Southern’s Robert Moreland and Coppin State’s Ron Mitchell are the others.

Haskins’s and Richardson’s teams can play on equal terms with anyone in the tournament. Thompson, still the only black coach to win the NCAA title, may not hold that unwanted distinction for long.

Certainly, there is progress. But not that much. It is no longer a shock when we click over to ESPN and see a black head coach drawing the Xs and Os. The total of black coaches at predominantly white schools creeps higher every year. There are currently 16, to our best knowledge. But there are plenty of schools in this country--in fact, most of them--who are downright afraid to hire a black coach. Right at this moment, a veteran black assistant who is largely responsible for the success of one high-profile school is seeking a head-coaching job. He says some schools are simply afraid to make the commitment.

Afraid of what, I asked this coach. “Well, not that I won’t be capable of winning, not that I won’t be capable of recruiting and graduating guys, but afraid that I won’t fit in socially,” he said. “Let’s face it; so often, the important decisions aren’t made in conference rooms, but on golf courses, in bars and over breakfast. If they won’t let Wade Houston (the black head coach of Tennessee) into the country club where the university president spends his recreational time, Houston is automatically excluded from a very important exposure and interaction.”

Often, however, it’s not school officials who have a problem hiring a black coach, it’s the school’s unofficial representatives: the boosters. Educators, whether they want to be or not, are exposed every day to a pluralistic society. Boosters at many, many schools are not. I have heard school officials tell me in private conversations that they could not give serious consideration to a black coach because the alumni and-or boosters wouldn’t stand for it.

And in those cases where the school officials are strong enough to tell the boosters, “Go to hell, this is the best man for the job,” that black coach better not mess up. Unlike his white colleague, he might not get another chance.

At last weekend’s ACC Tournament in Charlotte, N.C., Maryland’s NCAA probation was a popular topic. One repulsive but popular theory overheard often was that Bob Wade, through his transgressions, had “set black coaches back 10 years.” Pardon me, but did Tates Locke’s cheating at Clemson set white coaches back 10 years? Did Norm Ellenberger’s cheating at New Mexico set white coaches back 10 years?

Funny thing is that Mr. Clean, Bobby Knight, recommended both Locke and Ellenberger, his buddies, for jobs. Both are now employed. So is Joe B. Hall, who left scandal-plagued Kentucky for a lucrative career in television broadcasting. Wade set himself back, period. But there will come a time when he too deserves a second chance. We’ll see if he gets it.

There also was a lot of John Thompson talk at the ACC tournament, even if the Georgetown coach and his team were playing hundreds of miles up the coast in Madison Square Garden. Thompson, not so much his team or his school, still is the topic of many venomous conversations around the world of college basketball.

Critics love to talk about his 1984 NCAA championship team having “students who shouldn’t have been in college.” Obviously, they’re not aware that Ralph Dalton has his MBA, real-estate entrepreneur Fred Brown is in law school, Horace Broadnax is in graduate school and Michael Jackson was a Rhodes Scholar candidate. Patrick Ewing, Bill Martin, Gene Smith, David Wingate and Reggie Williams all graduated. And that’s from one team.

Thompson’s detractors always point to his predominantly black team. So how come no one was agitated by the fact that the eight ACC schools had a grand total of one black cheerleader at the tournament? And why is it that when teams like Clemson, UNLV, Syracuse or even Maryland field predominately black teams coached by whites, no one points a finger?

The younger black coaches who took teams into tournament competition Thursday--Thompson included--owe a debt of thanks to Clarence “Big House” Gaines of Winston-Salem State and many men like him whose games never appeared on television, who were never interviewed by Billy and Brent, and not because they or their teams were not good enough. When those pioneers look at Thompson standing across from Texas Southern’s Robert Moreland on Thursday, they’ll probably be saying “it’s about time.”