Forgotten Man of Bruins Makes a Curtain Call

They located Darrick Martin Thursday night. He was found in the same condition as when they left him--in short pants, in a basketball arena and, yes, the rumors are correct, in a basketball game.

Martin, the banished Bruin, was spotted on the University of New Mexico campus, in The Pit, trying to salvage a senior season that has been precisely that and more.

Martin played 24 minutes for UCLA against New Mexico State in the semifinals of the NCAA West Regional. They were important minutes, in an important game, for an important cause.

How’s this for a plot twist: Without Martin playing point guard, UCLA very well might have lost.

With freshman Tyus Edney looking the part for the first time in weeks, his poise wilting at the same pace as UCLA’s lead, Martin got to unshackle his ball and chain, stretch his legs a bit, stretch out the Aggie defense a bit and pass and shoot the Bruins back into control of the game.

UCLA wound up winning by seven points and Martin wound up scoring 13 before landing his smiling mug on television screens across the country, the CBS cameras capturing him walking off the court with four fingers waving in the air.

“Forty minutes from the Final Four,” was Martin’s explanation behind the gesture. “Nobody expected us to get this far. We were supposed to lose in the second round.

“I was just letting people know that UCLA is for real.”

And maybe letting people know he was still alive.

This time last year, the TV cameras caught Martin with his head down, walking off the Carrier Dome floor in disgrace after UCLA’s first-round loss to Penn State in the NCAA East Regional. He had just played what he called “probably the worst game of my life.” He sank one of nine field-goal attempts. He had more turnovers (four) than points (three). Worse than that, he was responsible for distributing the ball to offensive guns Don MacLean and Tracy Murray--and in the second half, MacLean and Murray touched the ball fewer than 10 times combined.

Martin was vilified. Coach Jim Harrick took a few shots, too. A team with supposed Final Four talent and it can’t withstand the first 40 minutes?

“After Penn State, you knew there was going to be a change,” Martin said.

And the change Harrick arrived at?

“It was me,” Martin said.

Martin’s streak of 87 consecutive starts ended with that game. By the time the Bruins reconvened for fall practice last October, Harrick had one option at point guard: Anyone But Martin.

Two UCLA coaches, past and present, studied the field during the first week of workouts. John Wooden pointed to Edney and proclaimed, “There’s your point guard.” Harrick arrived at the same conclusion, only four months later. In the interim, Harrick went with Gerald Madkins. Then, when the Bruins bogged down in late February with successive defeats to Notre Dame, USC and Duke, Harrick finally made the move to Edney.

The Wizard knows best.

UCLA hasn’t lost since.

Martin took it all in from the worst seat in the house--on the end of the Bruin bench. Often, he stewed. Rarely, he stirred.

One such occasion was the first Arizona game, Jan. 11 in Tucson, where Martin’s 15-footer with five seconds remaining gave UCLA an 89-87 victory, ending the Wildcats’ winning streak inside the McKale Center at 71.

“That definitely was the personal highlight for me,” Martin said. “Up to that point, I was kind of tense. For the first time in my life, I’d let the pressure get to me, about what was going on with my situation. That shot was like one big release for me.”

It also ran the entire gamut of the Darrick Martin argument, pro and con.

Here’s the UCLA point guard, working for the final shot, with Murray’s .542 field-goal percentage on one flank and MacLean’s .512 percentage on the other.

The point guard takes final shot.

The point guard makes final shot.

Adam Keefe, the Stanford center, spoke for the entire Pac-10 when he told a writer a few days later, “As soon as he got the ball, I knew he was going to shoot it.”

Or, as MacLean reintroduced on Friday: “With the scorers on this team, all the point guard really needs to do is get us the ball. . . . But Darrick was always a scorer in high school. He had to score 35 points a game then for his team to win. You play three, four years like that and all of a sudden, they tell you to play the point. Darrick never really made the adjustment.”

Martin didn’t resurface again until UCLA’s final home game and the traditional Seniors Day program, which was notable for the fact that Martin’s parents never surfaced. They attended the game, but nixed the ceremony. It was one family’s show of solidarity, a silent protest over a son’s long winter of inactivity.

Martin hasn’t heard the end of it.

“All these stories started floating around,” he said. “Several different people asked me if I really took down my pants and flashed the crowd. Did I really flip off the crowd? Like I was doing all this crazy stuff, being very stupid in my actions.

“None of that ever happened. Anybody who really knows me knows what kind of person I am, and I’d never do anything like that.

“At the time, I was just kind of frustrated. I had a discussion with my parents and we decided we didn’t want to (participate). That’s all that happened.”

MacLean remembers fearing the worst for Martin right about then.

“At the point he was at,” MacLean said, “he was at a crossroads and he could’ve gone either way. He could’ve said, ‘Shine UCLA, I couldn’t care less, just sit me on the bench and I hope this season ends as soon as possible.’

“Or, he could say, ‘I’ll wait for the right situation and play when I have the opportunity and do what I can with it.’

“I’m glad he’s taken the right road.”

Grudgingly, Harrick and Martin have developed into fellow travelers. As the going has become tougher along the NCAA Regional terrain, Harrick has found greater value in Martin’s experience and senior know-how. Right now, frankly, Harrick needs the help--and Martin has been perceptive enough to figure out that, in late March, 1992, whatever helps Harrick helps Martin, too.

“The only thing that could possibly ease the frustration for me this year is winning the national championship,” Martin said. “It’s in our grasp. Winning it would help me out a lot, especially since I’m contributing a little bit to it. That makes me feel good about myself.”

A ring is a ring is a ring. The inscription, according to tradition, is “NCAA CHAMPION.”

No mention is made of Minutes Played.