Any newlywed couple who, for one reason or another, opted to delay their honeymoon can identify with Bill Self.
Most newly hired basketball coaches enjoy a honeymoon during their first year on the job. Not Self. Kansas University’s men’s coach was expected to take the talent he inherited from Roy Williams and go to the Final Four in 2004.
But the Jayhawks fell to Georgia Tech in the Round of Eight.
Last year, too, with a nucleus of proven seniors, Self was expected to lead Kansas University’s men’s team to the promised land.
But the Jayhawks stubbed their toes against Bucknell. And in the first round, for crying out loud. How could a team with all that talent and experience lose to a Patriot League team?
Now, three years after taking over a program hallmarked by great expectations, Self finally embarked Jan. 21 on his much deserved honeymoon.
On that night, the Jayhawks, reeling from back-to-back losses to long downtrodden Kansas State – in Allen Fieldhouse, of all places – and to meekish Missouri, plastered Nebraska, 96-54.
The Jayhawks have lost only one game since.
And now the man who supposedly took all that inherited talent and blew it has been placed on a pedestal. Self is the consensus Big 12 coach of the year. But the coach-of-the-year prize is only a small slice of the honeymoon.
The best part is this: If the Jayhawks lose in the NCAA Tournament – and remember that 64 teams always do – just about everybody will shrug it off and say, “Well, heck, Self was starting three freshmen and two sophomores. Everything they’ve done this year is gravy. Wait ’til next year.”
OK, so the honeymoon has to end sometime, but in the meantime this Kansas University basketball team remains the hardcourt equivalent of a languid moonlight walk on the beach, mai-tais under palm trees and claustrophobic cooing in the cabana.
Why does this callow collection of Kansas kids win?
Self doesn’t really have a star player, after all – a go-to guy who is good for double-digit points every time he steps on the floor. Sure, Brandon Rush earned All-Big 12 accolades, but what did he do as the Jayhawks swept three foes to capture the school’s first conference tournament since 1999?
Not that much, really. In the three games, Rush missed 19 of 28 shots and averaged 8.7 points a game. Rush played defense, though. So did his teammates. That’s what they do, you know. Self’s honeymoon team plays D. They contest shots and, if they don’t steal the ball, they pressure you into throwing it away.
Most of all, though, this young, athletic and deep collection of fuzzy-cheeks wears opponents out.
On Sunday afternoon, with all those trips up the ladder and all those snippets of net at stake, Kansas and Texas were both playing their third game in three days. You saw which team still had fuel in the tank at the end. The Longhorns staggered through the last five minutes on fumes.
Ah, to be young and talented and unsaddled with the yoke of expectation. Ah, to be the coach of such a team headed into a 64-team tournament. Why it’s like being on a :
