It’s Schmooze or Lose for Coaches at Final Four

It pains Phil Martelli to be standing in the bustling lobby of the Hyatt Regency for the same reason it thrills Ryan Frost.

Each year it’s the same drill. Nearly every college coach in the country assembles at the Final Four to decompress after a long season. This time the setting is the festive Riverwalk, its Southwestern-themed restaurants and clubs transformed into a madhouse of coaching contacts and conviviality.

Martelli, though, feels out of place because he thinks his Saint Joseph’s team ought to be playing in tonight’s championship game. He should be at a podium in the Alamodome answering questions about his underdog team’s unbeaten regular season and magical tournament run.

But after three victories in the 65-team NCAA tournament, the Hawks fell one game from the Final Four, losing to Oklahoma State last week by a gut-wrenching score of 64-62.

“The hurt hasn’t gone away yet,” he says ruefully.

Meanwhile, Frost is gleefully shaking hands with as many fellow coaches as possible. An assistant at tiny Geneva College in Beaver Falls, Pa., he wants to see and be seen -- without appearing too eager, of course.

“I’m always open to things, always looking for opportunities,” he says. “I’m in a good situation. But it’s funny who you meet through people you already know.”

It’s Thursday night, the first of a five-day whirlwind that includes an expo solely for coaches, lavish parties put on by shoe companies and a crush of fans from the four Final Four teams -- Duke, Connecticut, Oklahoma State and Georgia Tech.

The coaches move in packs, usually a cadre of assistants following a head coach who emits the unmistakable glow of a successful season. Mark Gottfried, who led Alabama to two NCAA tournament victories, holds court on Crockett Street close to midnight, reminiscing before an adoring group of lesser lights about a particularly sweet game.

“He made five threes,” Gottfried says exultingly in an exaggerated Southern drawl.

“From the corner. From the top of the key. He was on fire!”

More subdued is sharply dressed Mike Jarvis. He stands out among the sea of sweat suits, coolly strolling on the Riverwalk with his wife, Connie, head held high as if to say, “I’m still employable.”

Not long ago Jarvis was an up-and-comer, courted by Michael Jordan to coach the NBA Washington Wizards. But in December he was fired after five-plus seasons at St. John’s. Problems worsened after his departure, and the Red Storm not only finished an abominable 6-21, two players were expelled and three were suspended for their involvement in a sex scandal.

An out-of-work coach cannot afford to miss the Final Four. Rick Majerus left Utah in January after 14 years for health reasons, is working for NBC and has expressed no intention of rejoining the coaching ranks soon. But he understands why Jarvis feels the need to be visible.

“Coaches have different agendas,” he says. “Get a job. Get a new job. Recruit players. This whole thing is about networking.”

It’s getting late but the Hyatt lobby is still crammed with coaches. The assistants, some wearing cellphone earpieces, greet each other with handshakes and shoulder bumps.

A coach’s standing can be discerned by what he wears -- the best-dressed guys often are out of work. Former UCLA assistant Jim Saia, unemployed since head coach Steve Lavin was fired after the 2002-03 season, wears tailored slacks and a dark shirt, as if headed to a job interview. He chats with Gib Arnold, who is casually attired in shorts and a T-shirt.

Arnold, a Pepperdine assistant the last several years, recently landed his first head coaching job, at junior college power Southern Idaho. The roster isn’t exactly a bunch of kids from Pocatello; it is stocked with players from Senegal, Brazil, France, Florida, North Carolina and Southern California, making Arnold something of a power broker for Division I coaches seeking talented transfers.

By mid-morning Friday, most of the coaches head to the Henry Gonzalez Convention Center to check out the products at the expo hosted by the National Assn. of Basketball Coaches.

A big draw is giveaways provided by the participating companies. Any business slow to catch on was reminded in a letter from the NABC, which included the following in bold type:

“The NABC highly encourages companies to utilize gift-giving opportunities to bolster traffic at your booths.”

Coaches also learn about the newest training techniques -- no matter how far-fetched. One company is promoting a computerized “Brain Gym,” which it says was developed by the Israeli Air Force to train fighter pilots and can help players improve “pattern recognition, tactics adaptation, peripheral vision, attention control, situational awareness and spatial orientation.”

Frost, the Geneva assistant, is less interested in expensive high-tech gadgets than in necessities. Like many coaches, he and a colleague will operate a youth camp this summer. He needs basketballs, T-shirts and insurance. The expo is a convenient place to shop.

And, sure, he accepts gifts, even seeking out one in particular: A flooring company is giving out pieces of commemorative hardwood bearing the San Antonio logo. Frost now has a small chunk of floor from each of the six Final Fours he has attended.

“It’s kind of cool,” he says. “They fit together.”

It’s not all fun and freebies for the 326 Division I head coaches. They sit through a three-hour meeting Friday afternoon, attempting to hammer out the NABC position on a variety of NCAA legislative matters.

Martelli comes from an awards ceremony where he was honored as coach of the year by Associated Press. His stomach churns as he accepts warm congratulations from his peers for a great season because he knows that the only coaches not asked to attend the meeting are the four with teams still playing.

UCLA Coach Ben Howland sits next to Tom Izzo, his counterpart from Michigan State. Four months ago their teams battled at Pauley Pavilion, but on this day they join sides in a heated discussion over an NCAA rule that limits the number of scholarships a coach can give out over a two-year period.

The meeting adjourns and it’s party time. Friday night is the craziest on Riverwalk because, in addition to coaches, fans have arrived by the thousands, most wearing the colors of their favored school. Barges carrying school bands and cheerleaders float along the river, a meandering yet raucous voyage that ends near an ESPN platform where analysts are on the air, predicting the next day’s winners.

For coaches with enough clout to score an invitation, shoe company parties are an alternative to the open-air celebration.

The Adidas bash is at the swanky Club Rive only a few blocks from the Hyatt, and coaches under contract with Nike or Reebok are not welcome. Shoe companies pay a major portion of the salaries of top coaches -- Adidas pays Howland $375,000 a year -- and the annual Final Four parties bring together everyone with allegiance to a particular brand.

Two coaches whose teams are coming off successful seasons -- Jamie Dixon of Pittsburgh and Bo Ryan of Wisconsin -- are the big Adidas draws. Six break dancers entertain on a circular dance floor, there is a generous buffet of beef tacos, chicken flautas and guacamole, and free drinks are poured by bartenders wearing T-shirts bearing the latest Adidas slogan: “Impossible is nothing.”

A live mannequin in an Adidas ensemble stands frozen on a platform above the crowded room. And although a rock band plays, the music is not so loud that revelers can’t carry on a conversation -- or cut a deal.

Frost is dining with friends only a few blocks away, but he is light-years from the Adidas excess. Although Geneva claims to have been the site of the first college basketball game, in 1893, like most small schools it must purchase shoes and apparel.

He is proud of his obscure employer nonetheless and wears a T-shirt that says “Geneva basketball.” Someone asks him if he coaches the Swiss national team.

Saturday brings basketball. The semifinal games at the cavernous Alamodome draw a stunning 44,417, yet many coaches prefer to view the games with colleagues in a ballroom at the Hyatt equipped with two projection screens.

The winning teams are Georgia Tech and Connecticut. They will meet in tonight’s championship game. There are winners among the hundreds of coaches as well. Many made important contacts that could pay off later in ways small and large, from landing a two-week stint as a summer camp instructor to getting that dream job as a Division I head coach.

Festivities begin to wind down Sunday. Groups such as the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and the Black Coaches Assn. hold meetings. Some coaches are checking out of the Hyatt already -- the season isn’t even officially over and they are antsy to return to their offices to begin preparations for next season.

Martelli, the consensus national coach of the year, is finally beginning to enjoy himself. He has been touched by the outpouring of congratulations from his colleagues for Saint Joseph’s storybook season.

“As I walk around the convention, I have two wishes for the coaches,” he says. “One, I hope that when the worm turns, I can be as gracious to them as they are to me. And two, I hope for each of them to have a team like I had this season.”

Frost, meanwhile, is in a car headed east. A college buddy who is the video coordinator for the NBA Houston Rockets got him tickets to Sunday’s home game against the Sacramento Kings. Ah, connections, the lifeblood of basketball.

From Houston he’ll fly home to Beaver Falls and watch tonight’s final with friends. He’ll have stories to tell, a stack of business cards for his Rolodex and a piece of Alamodome hardwood to add to his collection.