COLLEGE BASKETBALL / NCAA MEN’S CHAMPIONSHIP GAME : It’s Arkansas by a Hog’s Snout, 76-72 : Moment Is Sweet for Richardson

Down in the southwestern town of El Paso, a man came along wearing polka dots and cowboy boots. He got his diploma from Texas Western, and that was an unforgettable moment in his life. A few months later, in another part of Texas, someone shot the President of the United States. That, too, was a moment Nolan Richardson would never forget.

There would be more. There would be a day in 1966 when his old coach and alma mater would take college basketball’s national championship. What a sweet memory this was. And there would be a day more than two decades later when Rose and Nolan Richardson would experience the disbelief of watching their sweetest memory of all, their little daughter Yvonne, pass from their very eyes, stolen from them by leukemia.

The things you see in this life.

Like the present President of the United States, stepping toward you, taking you in his arms, teardrops welling in his eyes.

“Isn’t this great?” Bill Clinton asks, pulling back.

Nolan Richardson, 52, dressed in blue, is standing in the middle of a wild University of Arkansas party inside an arena in North Carolina, pushing midnight on a Monday night. He is coach of college basketball’s national champions, winner of a 76-72 game against Duke. He is watching a man who rules an entire nation wipe his eyes, listening to this man thanking him for the accomplishment, saying in kind to this man, “Thank you for the inspiration.”

A pep band is playing and swaying and singing, “Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ with Nolan,” to that tune Credence Clearwater Revival and Tina Turner sang about rollin’ on the river. At another end of the Charlotte Coliseum, a middle-aged woman wearing a “HOGS” brooch is atop a stepladder, snipping a cord from a basketball net. This is another thing Nolan Richardson never dreamed he would see, his wife doing that.

Earlier in the evening, Rose Richardson sat in the stands with her face in her hands, unable to look. Arkansas was down by as many as 10 points. Her heart was beating as fast as the clock was ticking. Down there on the sideline, coaching the favored Razorbacks, was the man with whom she had shared so much. At his side sat “Notes” Richardson, 29, an assistant coach in charge of the videotaping of opponents, alias Nolan Richardson III, their son. Up among the fans was Notes’ wife, mother of a 6-year-old boy, Nolan Richardson IV.

The important people of his life.

College basketball’s coach of the hour made sure to thank every one. As soon as this contest was over, as soon as he knew it was real, he rattled off the name of everyone who had meant something to him along the way. The first principal who gave him a high school team to coach, back El Paso way. The man who hired him in Snyder, Tex., to coach at a junior college. The man who invited him to Tulsa to coach his first big-time team. Frank Broyles, who brought him to Arkansas and stood by him whenever times got tough.

“I know you want me to make a short statement, but I don’t care, this is important to me,” Richardson said, rattling off memory after memory.

This was his night. This was This Is Your Life, Nolan Richardson. He had people to mention and things to say. He is a talker, this coach is, as verbose as they come. Which is good, because the man has an awful lot to say. Tonight he had just seen two teams of basketball players give everything they had, and if his side didn’t win, there were those out there, Richardson was convinced, who would say he hadn’t won the big one, couldn’t win the big one, wasn’t one of the great coaches of the game.

When he already knew better.

“I already know who I am,” Richardson stressed. “I don’t need you to tell me. I don’t need anyone to try to tell the world what Nolan Richardson is all about. Because I already know. I already feel that I’m one of the best coaches in the land. I don’t need you to tell me that. I didn’t need this to happen for anyone else to know that.”

The feeling, though. He needed to feel this feeling.

Richardson rested his jaw on his palm, shook his head and said, “This is one of the greatest feelings I have ever had, from the standpoint of athletics.”

There was a time when he wondered how such a feeling would come about. Coming out of college, Richardson had a tryout with the San Diego Chargers as a football player, then a tryout with the ABA’s Dallas Chaparrals as a basketball player. But things didn’t work out. So, back he went to Bowie High, back to the border-town dust of El Paso, to labor for 10 years of high school ball, teaching kids to dribble. Then three more years with a junior college team that won 98 of 112 games and got him a little attention.

And look at him now.

Coaching for the President.

Clinton sat beside David Gergen, who was cheering for Duke, agonizing over the 10-point lead his Arkansas guys had spotted the opponents. The President said later: “Oh, it was awful. I brought all the folks who work for me and went to Duke and a few who went to North Carolina, so we had more people for Duke in my little box than we did for Arkansas.”

His heart was jumping the whole time, Clinton said. He had predicted that it would take 75 points against Duke’s fine defense to win, and how about that, it turned out 76-72. It was an amazing game and one that he, too, had been waiting for all his life.

Richardson said, “I think the President’s reaction was one of pride. The Razorbacks are his pride and joy.”

As they are his. A day before, players from Richardson’s team had praised him as the best coach in the game, called him the reason they were there and the reason they would win. People said that Duke would win and that Duke had the top coach in basketball. In a pig’s eye, the Razorbacks said. They were the kids of Nolan Richardson, as tight as a family. There was such togetherness, such openness among them, the team’s media guide listed not only the names of each player’s parents, but their home addresses and telephone numbers.

Richardson loved each and every one of them, even if he joked now that his next order of business was to “go get my golf clubs and get the hell away from everybody.”

He can do anything he wants to do.

After all, this is his day.