If Norm Stewart’s right arm hadn’t gone south on him in about 1955, he never would have been sitting in a rocking chair on the court last Monday night in Allen Fieldhouse. And KU and Missouri basketball fans would have missed a tremendous amount of fun and excitement.
Man, I’m glad Roy Williams chose to honor a Black-and-Gold immortal who has been “dissed” by his own school because of an edict by a sugar-daddy. But let’s backslide a bit.
The raw-boned, 6-foot-4 firebrand from Shelbyville, Mo., was an immediate star as a sophomore basketeer at MU for the 1953-54 season. Bob Reiter led the Tigers with a 19.6 scoring average, but coach Sparky Stalcup had the fiery Stewart quarterback the club. Norm had a 12.1-points-per-game year.
Then came baseball. Stewart, with solid major league potential, was a key pitcher as Mizzou won the NCAA championship. Before long, even in those days, there was talk that Norm was so good he’d probably sign a fat baseball bonus and leave early. You had to be doggone good to get such raves in the ’50s.
When Norm’s arm trouble developed, I’m not quite sure. But Stewart, loyalist that he is, decided to finish his basketball and baseball careers in Columbia. He averaged 16.7 points as a junior cage captain, then won All-America honors with his league-leading 24.1 average in 1955-56, the season Wilt Chamberlain was a KU freshman and the final coaching season for Phog Allen.
Norm played two seasons here in old Hoch Auditorium and his senior year in then-new Allen Fieldhouse. The intense, driven Stewart also captained the ’56 Tigers.
Norm’s soupbone remained strong enough that baseball still wanted to give him a look, and pro basketball’s St. Louis Hawks picked him. After earning his bachelor’s degree, he signed with the Hawks and baseball’s Baltimore Orioles.
He spent one season with the Hawks and a year in the Orioles’ minor league system. Then it was back to Mizzou as an assistant basketball and baseball coach. Bright as well as athletically gifted, he earned his master’s degree in 1960.
Six seasons as Northern Iowa basketball coach followed, then Norm reigned as Mizzou boss in the 1967-99 period, a sterling 634-333 record. When he stepped out at Columbia, the hustling cancer survivor had been involved as a player, assistant or head coach in 1,127 of the 2,151 games played in MU basketball history — more than 50 percent, folks. In his 32 years at MU, he won more games than the school had won in its previous 61 seasons (630).
There were some questionable times at Columbia during and after Norm’s retirement. Whatever the reason, when one fat cat pledged $25 million for a new Tiger fieldhouse, the stipulation was that if Norm’s name was on anything, like the building or the court, the donor would take his financial ball and go home.
How can you turn on somebody that vital to a school? Heck, only Phog Allen at Kansas (39) and Hank Iba at Oklahoma State (36) coached longer at a Big Eight or Big 12 school. Norm never did much in the NCAA Tournament but he made big waves as a championship operator in our league. Plus he was an interesting — if at times irritating — adversary who added spice to any court setting.
Since Norm fought such a tough battle with cancer and won, he had no trouble enlisting the aid of adversary Roy Williams in Coaches Vs. Cancer. Roy’s beloved mom, of course, was claimed too early by cancer, so he has a special interest in battling that scourge.
Once fierce foes, Roy and Norm have gained increasing respect for each other. Roy decided the guy deserved a break in Lawrence, where he’d been blasted so often by the “Sit Down, Norm” chants, and other assorted epithets.
The opportunity came for Roy to do for Stewart what his home folks have been so slow in doing, so out came the rocking chair before the KU-Texas game. Almost always equal to any occasion, Norm grinned, sat down, gave the crowd a fist pump and toted off the rocker. What a fitting event for an icon. Woulda never happened if baseball had dominated.
Norm seldom was in love with me. He’d read something I wrote and drop a note. His favorite adjective of derision was “sophomoric.” I often heard how whatever I scribbled measured down to that level. One on one, you’d enjoy the guy. He was always bright, funny, never hostile and eager to know how you might be doing.
I’m so glad KU decided to put things into a little better perspective and recognize a guy who has added so much to our sports scene for so very long.
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Those Kansas fans who surged onto the fieldhouse court after the Texas thriller had less class than a horse apple in the punch bowl at one of Elizabeth Taylor’s many weddings. Man, folks, act like you’ve been in the victory column.
But I wasn’t quite as upset with them as I was with Bryant Nash wallowing in glee on the floor, like a T.J. Ford taunt, after he’d canned a three and also earned a free throw. Acted as if he’d just won the NCAA title, then stepped up and bricked the free throw. Looked might silly, kid.
Better save the hot-doggery until he helps a lot more than he has. Most folks still are waiting for delivery on that constant “promise” of great athleticism. It’s crunch-time, kid.
