Tweet of the Day: Steve Novak

Here is the excerpt from Wojciechowski. We recommend a clickthrough: “I read the wire story lead on his death, the one that described him as “the jovial college basketball coach who led Utah to the 1998 NCAA final and had only one losing season in 25 years with four schools.” He wasn’t jovial in practices. Or games. Those were intellectual cage matches for him. Whatever the spread was in those games, Majerus was worth at least three points, probably more. That year Utah (Utah!) reached the national championship game and actually led Kentucky at halftime, Majerus and the Runnin’ Utes had to beat No. 1 seed Arizona in the West Regional final and then No. 1 overall seed North Carolina in the Final Four semis. I was embedded with Utah as part of an ESPN The Magazine assignment. Usually after wins, Majerus would hunker down with a postgame pizza and game video of the next opponent. But after the 25-point victory against Arizona and its NBA roster, Majerus could be found in the hotel whirlpool, sipping on an umbrella drink. That was the same night, as he floated off the court in Anaheim, Calif., he spotted me in the tunnel and said, “Give me a hug, Polish Falcon.” The Columbia Journalism Review might not like it, but when the 300-pound Majerus cornered you for a hug, well, you were getting a hug. And it was the same night the coaching staff and players sprayed each other with soft drinks and stood happily in the shower area for an impromptu team photo. The innocence and joy on their faces still makes me grin involuntarily. Majerus was 10 of the smartest people I’ve ever known. The Jesuits educated him well. He was a coach, but he could have been a councilman. He lived in a hotel during much of his career, but his suites often were filled with books. He’d call at night just to talk about a Maureen Dowd column he had read an hour earlier. He won games, lots and lots of them, but I swear he cared more about seeing his players get diplomas than victories. He could charm an entire national press corps. He could alienate an entire local media corps. He could hold court. He could hold grudges. Majerus didn’t suffer fools. He was brilliant, complex and demanding to a fault. He also was loyal, caring and giving to a fault. He thought the NCAA was dumber than a chia pet. He despised the hypocrisy of rules that lacked a gram of common sense. So, sure, Majerus would take a doggie bag of leftovers to a foreign player on his roster who was alone and homesick in a dinky off-campus apartment during the Christmas holidays. If it was a violation, Majerus could live with the shame. How he made it to 64, I have no idea. They cracked open his chest years ago and did major reconstructive surgery. His heart and doctors were on a first-name basis.”