Show’s Over, for Now : Tarkanian Gets 65-53 Victory and an Emotional Ceremony in What University Officials Hope Is His Final Game at UNLV

On a evening when he could have used one of his world-famous white towels to dab away the tears, an emotional Coach Jerry Tarkanian said a reluctant goodby to UNLV basketball.

The words, of course, didn’t come as easily as the Runnin’ Rebels’ 65-53 victory over Utah State Tuesday night at the Thomas & Mack Center. Standing at center court afterward, doused in a spotlight, showered with farewell gifts and the heartfelt applause of 18,944 spectators, Tarkanian was asked to address the first and only sellout crowd of the season.

Much like his recent attempts to keep his job, it was a lost cause.

“I just want to thank everybody for 19 wonderful . . . years,” he said, his voice breaking.

And then he started to cry. The same combative man who had defied the NCAA and, at times, ignored its rules; who had fought openly and bitterly with much of the UNLV administrative hierarchy; who had vowed to take legal action if his rescinded resignation wasn’t honored . . . was overcome with emotion.

He tried to speak once more. Again he failed.

“I can’t talk,” he said, walking away from the microphone.

The crowd spoke for him. “Keep Tark, Keep Tark,” it chanted.

Tarkanian will eventually leave UNLV--and it is only a question of when he cleans out his office--as the all-time winningest coach by percentage (83.7%) in the history of Division I basketball. He took the Runnin’ Rebels to 12 NCAA tournaments and four Final Fours. A national championship won in 1990 remains his most cherished accomplishment.

As for this season, the sixth-ranked Rebels, despite the many distractions, finished their schedule 26-2 overall and 18-0 in the Big West Conference. Barring a successful legal challenge, the team will remain ineligible for postseason play because of NCAA sanctions.

But Tarkanian’s 24-year career, 19 of which were spent at UNLV, will also be known for its many controversies. His legacy included high drama, as well as appearances in high court. Tarkanian, it seemed, was always battling something or somebody--the NCAA, UNLV President Robert Maxson, the university regents, other coaches, the legal system.

In keeping with tradition, Tarkanian’s final few days as head coach were no different.

Monday, he called for an independent investigation into the Rebels’ basketball program, a suggestion that was quickly dismissed by Maxson.

Tarkanian didn’t stop there. Whenever questioned about his plans, a playful Tarkanian said, “I might go to Harvard or Yale, I’m not sure.”

Tarkanian was equally evasive during his Tuesday boosters luncheon at the Thomas & Mack, a weekly affair that attracted an overflow crowd of 350 fans, many of whom wore T-shirts that read, “Keep Tark, Fire Maxson.”

For $6.50 each, the UNLV faithful were treated to an Armenian menu and the chance to hear Tarkanian deliver a handful of one-liners, all of which were directed at Maxson, UNLV Counsel Brad Booke, former Rebel athletic director Dennis Finfrock or the NCAA.

“Where’s Booke and Finfrock?” a booster shouted.

“Booke’s probably too busy videotaping,” said Tarkanian of the UNLV administrator who last year ordered that a camera be secretly installed in an air-conditioning duct of the Rebels’ practice facility. “And Finfrock’s probably over at the (Las Vegas Review-Journal newspaper) office with more news.”

There was also a touch of nostalgia. As Tarkanian surveyed the packed room, he reminded everyone of his first such UNLV luncheon in 1973. So sparse was the crowd that day, that it was held in the lounge of a local bowling alley.

Tarkanian recalled his first game at UNLV, which also happened to be his first home loss. After Texas Tech defeated the Rebels that night, the sponsor of Tarkanian’s radio show canceled the program.

But there have been victories. Lots of them. Enough, at least in the minds of the 350 boosters, to counterbalance the constant battles with the NCAA and Maxson.

“Coach,” said a gentleman attired in full red-and-silver UNLV garb, “to coin a phrase from another famous gentleman, I’d just like to say, ‘Thanks for the memories.’ ”

As is his custom on game days, Tarkanian had breakfast with the team and then returned to his office. As is also his custom, he spent much of his time talking on his cellular phone. Coaches called to wish him well. Friends called to ask for tickets.

After the luncheon and an afternoon shoot-around, Tarkanian arrived home at 4. He watched part of the Michigan-Ohio State game and then got dressed for UNLV’s 7:38 p.m. start.

Shortly before leaving for the Thomas & Mack, his wife Lois asked: “Do you feel sad? You all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said.

And he was, at least, outwardly. After arriving for the game at 6:30, Tarkanian was greeted by no less then three standing ovations before tipoff. His response? A shy smile.

Along courtside, the so-called “Gucci Row,” where UNLV’s most ardent and wealthy supporters sit, nearly everyone wore black T-shirts with silver “TARK” lettering on the front and Tarkanian’s old jersey number--”2”--on the back. Two of the women started crying as soon as Tarkanian made his first appearance at 6:59. Such was the level of emotion.

Former NFL star Walter Payton attended the game. Local television stations did their newscasts from courtside. Ushers wore tuxedos with red bow ties and cummerbunds. It was more than a “victory lap,” as Maxson had suggested earlier in the week. It was an event, as glitzy and important as a Vegas floor show.

The game itself was an annoyance more than anything, a preface to the real spectacle. For most of the contest, Tarkanian did little more than slouch near the scorer’s table, staring glumly as the Rebels finally took control in the final minutes. With five seconds remaining, he allowed himself another smile and then hugged each UNLV player.

Minutes later, after the house lights were dimmed once more, Tarkanian sat quietly as a highlight video was shown on two huge screens suspended from the rafters. Later, he was presented with gifts galore, including Tuesday night’s game towel in a glass case, a replica of UNLV’s 1990 national championship banner and four silver-plated UNLV season tickets--to be at his disposal forever.

What meant the most, he said, was the applause, the affection. If he was moved by “Ax-Max(son)” signs that dotted the crowd or the occasional chants of, “Keep Tark, fire Maxson,” he didn’t acknowledge it.

So the Tarkanian Era--at least, according to the UNLV administration--is complete. No more Shark Tank. No more shark mascot. And it hopes no more controversies.

Before leaving the arena, Tarkanian paused long enough to join a few friends for a champagne toast. For Tarkanian, the bubbly never tasted so bittersweet.