New Act Plays the Strip : When Philadelphia Turned on Massimino After 19 Seasons, Las Vegas Turned Up With a Winner

Rollie Massimino, fresh from another Nevada Las Vegas booster luncheon, another session of glorified show-and-tell, walks into his half barren office and heads directly to his desk. From nowhere a plastic tub of spaghetti and meatballs appears, as well as a loaf of garlic bread big enough to serve as a fraternity paddle.

Massimino is smiling now. Italian food . . . Italian anything does that to him.

“Look at this,” he says, the sweet smell of marinara sauce filling the air. “And look at this hat.”

Someone has left another gift. It is a baseball cap. A red-sequined baseball cap with silver-sequined UNLV letters.

“Oh, I’ve got a 31-year-old daughter who will love this,” Massimino gushes.

He is smiling some more. Beaming, actually. Behind him, on the same wall where Jerry Tarkanian’s mementos once hung, are two 8 x 10 framed photographs. One is of Massimino sitting atop a camel. The other is of Massimino and paisans Tom Lasorda and Frank Sinatra. Smiles everywhere.

Massimino tugs at his tie, unbuttons his shirt collar and leans back in his chair. On his desk are three stacks of phone messages, each pile at least three

inches high. On a nearby table are detailed practice schedules, each featuring a Massimino trademark, “Thought For The Day.” Against another wall is a giant rear-projection television, its screen large enough to rival those found in your neighborhood multiplex theater. Game tapes are scattered atop it.

Even seven months after stunning college basketball and perhaps himself by leaving Villanova, his home for 19 seasons, Massimino’s office is still a mess. It is a mess because Massimino, 58, has better things to do than oversee interior decorating. He has a new team to coach, a program’s image to restore and, whether he wants to admit it or not, a point to prove. To himself and to those who doubted him.

“There are not enough hours in the day,” he says. “I had a 7 a.m. breakfast, two (meetings) at noon and one at night. But that’s one of the reasons I’m here.”

One of the reasons, but not the reason. Massimino didn’t leave his family, his friends, his little empire at Villanova just so he could exchange pleasantries with the fellas at the local Vegas Rotary Club. Nor did he come to UNLV just because the school dangled a four-year, $2.8-million package--of course, it didn’t hurt, either--or because he had some secret love for the desert, the gaudy Strip, the thought of replacing the legendary but scandal-scarred Tarkanian.

Massimino left Philadelphia because he felt betrayed, unloved and unappreciated. He expected to end his career at Villanova and become the Northeast equivalent of Dean Smith, North Carolina’s gentleman coach and patriarch. Instead, he found himself the object of increasing criticism, ridicule and hatred.

“You wouldn’t have seen me talking like this last year,” Massimino said. “My kids knew it. My family knew it. I’m really enjoying this. I don’t mind getting up early, but my wife thinks I’m crazy. She only cries once a day.

“We’re working 15-, 16-plus hours a day,” he said. “It’s good. It’s fun. It’s rejuvenating me. I’m young. I’m excited. I love it. I really do.”

Other schools, most of them major programs with major dollars to spend, contacted Massimino in years past. Most of the time he would simply thank them for their interest and say goodby. On a rare occasion, if the offer was too sizable to instantly dismiss, Massimino would ask one of his assistant coaches for an opinion.

“He’d say, ‘What do you think about this? What do you think about that?’ ” said John Olive, a former Villanova player and longtime Massimino assistant who is the first-year coach at Loyola Marymount. “I’d say, ‘You ain’t going nowhere.’ ”

And he didn’t--until UNLV Athletic Director Jim Weaver contacted him in late March.

At first, Weaver wanted help in compiling a list of possible replacements for Tarkanian. But the more they talked, the more Weaver realized his answer might be on the other end of the line.

“I started thinking, ‘Geez, maybe he’d be interested,’ ” Weaver said. “But never in my wildest imagination did I think it would lead in the culmination to him being our coach.”

That makes two of them.

Massimino thought he was safe as a kitten at Villanova. Then he endorsed a plan that reduced the school’s participation in the city’s Big Five series, the time-honored club that included the Wildcats, Temple, Pennsylvania, La Salle and St. Joseph’s.

Then he began warring with certain members of the Philadelphia media, who dared question his Big Five decision, to say nothing of his team’s deliberate (a nice word for boring) playing style. Then he was ripped by La Salle Coach Speedy Morris.

Then he dismissed a player, charged at the time with criminal trespass and criminal mischief, from his team before a trial took place. The player, Lloyd Mumford, now at UC Irvine, was vindicated of everything except a misdemeanor offense.

The same can’t be said of Massimino. And to add to the Massimino bashing, the Wildcats began missing NCAA tournaments and losing more games than they won.

The same coach who was hailed as a hero in 1985 when Villanova upset Georgetown in the NCAA championship game in Lexington, Ky., was now considered by his critics to be an ogre of sorts, a petty dictator whose time had passed.

No wonder Weaver’s job feeler was met with such enthusiasm.

“Twenty years of that man’s life went into that city,” Olive said. “I don’t want to speak for Coach, but I think he was very disappointed with how Villanova University treated him. It was always a struggle. It was a continual struggle day after day with everyone around him. With the administration. With the media. I think he said, ‘Hey, I don’t need this anymore.’ ”

So Massimino left, but not before incurring the wrath of Morris, who blamed him for undermining the Big Five. In a now infamous Philadelphia Daily News guest column, Morris wrote that “36 years of tradition should mean something to Villanova. You do not walk away from your partners of 36 years.”

Morris might as well have called Massimino a traitor.

“I was really left out to dry on the whole thing, but I could handle that,” Massimino said. “I’m not making excuses for that because that’s me. I will stand up for anything and go as long as I think it’s right, as long as I think it’s fair, as long as I think I’m doing the right thing.”

To this day, Massimino says the Big Five schedule was reduced from four games to two because of Villanova’s desire for a more national schedule, because of the demands of the Big East--the Wildcats’ conference--and because the university president, school trustees and athletic director, with Massimino’s blessings, were in favor of the change.

“The big thing was the Big Five,” he said. “It wasn’t Villanova, it was Rollie(‘s fault). Rollie is Villanova. Well, Rollie’s not Villanova. The decision was made by the institution. I don’t make those decisions. I’m just the basketball coach.”

But the damage was done. A city began to turn on him. A Philadelphia basketball tradition had been compromised and someone had to take the blame.

“There is an awful lot of competition among the schools there,” Olive said. “The four other schools in that city are very upset that Villanova pulled away from the pack and became a national power and they didn’t.

“And to be honest with you, I’ve got mixed emotions about that Big Five rivalry. There’s a new generation of sports fans in that city. The students on the campus of Villanova couldn’t have cared less about the Big Five. Recruits coming in didn’t care about the Big Five. They cared about the Big East.”

Massimino also earned few admirers when he kicked Mumford off the team several months before the start of the 1991 season. Without the benefit of a trial’s results, Massimino determined that Mumford must go. Soon thereafter, Mumford was cleared of the two original charges and found guilty only of disorderly conduct.

For a coach who preached the importance of family and often said, “My word is my bond,” the decision seemed, at the very least, inconsistent, and at the very worst, hypocritical.

Mumford won’t forget. Upon learning of Massimino’s acceptance of the UNLV job, he began counting the days until Irvine plays the Rebels Dec. 19 at the Thomas & Mack Center.

“I’d like to beat him probably as bad as anybody could be beaten, on a professional level,” he said.

Massimino apologized for nothing. He said he could live with the choice.

Little by little, Massimino was forced to defend himself. No one could question his commitment to academics--all 62 of his senior scholarship players earned degrees--or his commitment to the NCAA recruiting manual, but there was reason to wonder about Villanova’s playing record.

The Wildcats finished 14-15 last season. For the third time in the last six years, Massimino’s team wasn’t invited to the NCAA tournament. Worse yet, they weren’t particularly entertaining to watch. Basketball purists might have appreciated Massimino’s ability to control tempo and the shot clock, but Villanova fans and observers found the playing style less than thrilling.

Put it all together and you have a coach whose act had worn thin. In fact, when news of Massimino’s decision to leave Villanova was announced, Wildcat students reportedly cheered.

“I don’t believe it,” Olive said. “I, almost in a cynical way, think it was staged, to be honest with you. I can’t believe that. Coach Mass took Villanova from the early ‘70s to the ’90. He kept Villanova basketball in the national spotlight.”

Maybe so, but no one remembers seeing Villanova Athletic Director Ted Aceto clutching Massimino’s leg, pleading with him to stay.

“At Villanova, I could have stayed,” Massimino said. “I talked two weeks prior to (leaving) with the president (Father Edmund Dobbin) about the whole situation.

“I wasn’t tired of Villanova and Villanova wasn’t tired of me.”

Yet, he left. Weaver and UNLV President Robert Maxson sold him on the challenge of restoring the school’s good name. They spoke of his immediate impact on the program’s image. They offered lots of money. They appealed to his sensitivity. In short, they did all the things Villanova couldn’t or wouldn’t do.

This wasn’t like the time Mississippi State came calling. Or the time he almost took the New Jersey Nets’ job. Back then, his love affair with Villanova was forged steel. No longer.

Tom Massimino, Rollie’s son and a UNLV assistant, remembers the night his father said he was taking the Nets’ offer. “Then at 6 o’clock the next morning, he’s waking me up, telling me he’d changed his mind,” Tom said.

So years later, when Massimino again informed his family of a career move, this time to faraway Las Vegas, Tom expected another change of heart.

“I just thought when it came right down to it, he was going to stay where he was,” he said. “It’s hard to go away from something that you know everything about it.”

That it was. Massimino bawled like a baby the day he told his team he was leaving.

From there, Massimino, Tom and fellow assistant coach Jay Wright boarded a private jet for the flight to Las Vegas. Even then, only hours removed from the emotional announcement, Massimino went to work. Some 20,000 feet above ground, the three men took turns making recruiting calls. First on the list was Ben Candelino, high school coach of guard Lawrence Thomas. Thomas was orally committed to Villanova, but changed his mind and signed with UNLV.

“We don’t normally use the airplane phones,” Tom Massimino said.

Since his arrival, Massimino has put together a top-10 recruiting class--no small feat, considering the impending NCAA sanctions bound to be delivered one of these days. After all, Tarkanian not only broke records, he also broke NCAA rules.

“I honestly feel that, hopefully, it can be resolved as soon as possible,” Massimino said. “But if by chance there’s major, major, major sanctions--not necessarily probation--something that’s very unexpected, I’ll certainly give the young men the opportunity to leave. I’m very positive that everything’s going to be worked out. But obviously something might happen. Something has to happen.”

The longer the decision takes, the harder it will become for Massimino to persuade recruits to join a program in limbo. And the longer it takes for UNLV, the NCAA and assorted courts to resolve the situation, the more difficult it is for Massimino to make the transition from the Tarkanian era to his own.

“I know I replaced a legend,” Massimino said. “I replaced the winningest college basketball coach in the history of the game. Therefore, I made it into a positive thing. You got to use the resources that Jerry built here as a positive thing. Then what my reputation brings, that’s how we built it. Never on what was negative, what happened then. That’s gonzo.”

Massimino is not a fan of negativity. Just ask those Philadelphia writers who criticized his program or his players.

“I still have many dear friends in the media,” Massimino said. “But, yes, quite frankly the younger media, as we know them, I think somewhat made me very leery of the whole picture.

“I’m the type of guy who says what I feel and I really, really don’t want anybody to say what’s not true,” he said. “You write or say anything about me. I’m a very loyal person. When you attack my players, when you attack my university, when you attack someone with whom I feel has done a tremendous job . . . now, I react.”

For the most part, Massimino has been a public relations delight at UNLV. He has made himself accessible. He has spoken to almost every civic group in the city and then some. It is as if he were running for public office. And in a way, he is.

Massimino isn’t here to make people forget Tarkanian. He wants only to create his own legacy.

“(These players) got a lot of loyalties, a lot of loyalties to Jerry Tarkanian,” he said

The similarities and differences between the two men are obvious enough. Each won an NCAA championship. Each stresses this idea of family. Each understood the importance of academics. Each was hired at his school--Tarkanian at UNLV, Massimino at Villanova--on March 23, 1973.

But then the styles begin to part ways. Tarkanian was quiet, almost dour on most occasions. He could dominate a room, but rarely was in the mood to. Massimino can’t help but take over a conversation.

Tarkanian rarely complimented his players during practice or a game. Massimino does it all the time.

Tarkanian’s practices were never scripted. Massimino’s workouts are detailed masterpieces of time management and motivational messages.

A sampling: “Is There a Curveball in Your Delivery?” “If You Want To Be a Player, You’ve Got To Stomp the Grapes To Drink the Wine.” “A Smart Person Knows What He Doesn’t Know. A Dumb Person Thinks He Knows What He Doesn’t Know.” “You Better Think of the Future Because That’s Where You’re Going To Spend the Rest of Your Life.”

Tarkanian let his team wear sweats on the road. Massimino requires his players to wear coats and ties.

Tarkanian didn’t believe in pregame stretching exercises for his team. Massimino insists on them.

Tarkanian couldn’t remember the names of longtime support staff members. Massimino makes it a point to know everyone’s name.

That is all well and good, but UNLV fans are more concerned about Massimino’s on-court plans. Forget “Thought for a Day,” what about the offense? Will it be Villanova-esque or in the grand tradition of Tarkanian’s run-and-gun attack?

“He’s doing the same amount of running as we did last year,” forward Evric Gray said.

And this from star forward J.R. Rider: “All we do is run. If we don’t run it’s because we don’t execute it.”

Just in case anyone doubts Massimino’s intentions, he happily endorsed this year’s UNLV basketball media guide cover, which reads: “Rollie’s Run in the Sun!”

UNLV begins the season ranked 22nd in the AP writers’ poll and 23rd in the USA Today/CNN coaches’ poll, which sounds about right. After tinkering with the schedule, Massimino put his team in a position to win 20 games, maybe more.

His first opponent? Olive’s Loyola team. At Loyola.

“For him to come here is remarkable,” Olive said. “To bring that caliber of a program, of a team here to our place . . . well, he’s not doing it for any other reason than to try to help me.”

Shortly after accepting the UNLV offer, Massimino spoke to close friend Chuck Daly, who later took the New Jersey Nets’ coaching job. Massimino was an assistant on Daly’s staff at Penn in 1971 and 1972.

“Rollie, we’ve got to take the high road,” Daly said that day. “Never look back.”

Massimino can’t help himself. He still glances over his shoulder on occasion.

“But I don’t regret it,” he said. “Not one iota.”