court.
Evans had always wanted to be a coach. He was born in Pennsylvania but had grown up in upstate New York with his parents, who adopted him after his natural parents died while he was an infant.
He was a good athlete, a three-sport star in football, basketball, and track. By the time he was a junior in high school, Evans knew he wanted to coach. “I had one of those career meetings with the guidance counselor at the end of my junior year and I said, ‘I want to be a coach.’ She looked at me and said, ‘But what do you want to do for a living?’ ”
He went to Ithaca College and became a dean’s list student when an ankle injury forced him to give up all sports but track. After graduation, he married his high school sweetheart and became a successful high school coach. During his second year as a coach, late in the season, he was called up to active duty by the National Guard.
His team was undefeated. Only six games were left to play. Evans didn’t mind being called up but not
now
. There was only one solution—or so he thought. He and a friend went into the weight room and, while Evans closed his eyes, his friend brought the full force of one of the weights down on Evans’s arm. They raced to the hospital for X rays. The nurse came out with a smile on her face. “Good news, Mr. Evans,” she said. “There’s no sign of a break. You should be all right in a few days.”
Evans didn’t bother trying to break the arm again. The unbroken one hurt too much.
He moved into college coaching as a freshman coach at Geneseo before getting the job at St. Lawrence, as much because he had coached some football and taught some math as anything. He was a big winner at St. Lawrence on the Division 2 level but wondered when he would get a shot at a Division 1 job. In 1979, he interviewed for the Dartmouth job but lost out to Tim Cohane. That annoyed him since he had beaten Cohane in the Division 2 playoffs two years in a row.
The following year, the Cornell job became available. The athletic director was Dick Schultz, now the executive director of the NCAA. Schultz interviewed Evans at length and told him he would be in touch. Evans finished a 22–5 season that Saturday with an easy victory over his alma mater, Ithaca, but was disappointed that Schultz wasn’t at the game.
The next day Schultz called. He was sorry but because of public relations he had decided to hire a Bob Knight assistant, Tom Miller. Evans was crushed. “I was thirty-four and I had decided a few years earlier that if I didn’t have a Division One job by the time I was thirty-five I was going to get out,” he said. “I just didn’t want to spend the rest of my life driving a bus.”
Four days after telling him he couldn’t hire him at Cornell, Schultz called Evans back. Would he be interested in the Navy job? Navy Athletic Director J. O. (Bo) Coppedge had called Schultz looking for names. Schultz had mentioned Evans.
Evans was thrilled. He never stopped to think about Navy’s complete lack of basketball tradition; about the height restrictions; about the five-year service commitment required of all graduates. “I was too stupid to know I couldn’t do it there,” he said, smiling. “I figured Knight had gotten it done at Army, why couldn’t I do it at Navy?”
It wasn’t easy. Evans’s first two teams were 9–17 and 12–14. He was criticized for trying to play an up-tempo game at a school clearly not fit to play up-tempo basketball. But Evans was putting the pieces together. His third team set an Academy record for victories by going 18–8. Evans was shocked when the NIT never noticed his team and no other schools noticed his victory total.
The next year the record was 24–8 with a freshman named Robinson averaging six points a game. Still no NIT bid and no job offers. Thenext year, when Robinson blossomed, the Midshipmen were 26–6. They reached the NCAA Tournament, stunned LSU in the first round, and had Maryland down 11
Evans had always wanted to be a coach. He was born in Pennsylvania but had grown up in upstate New York with his parents, who adopted him after his natural parents died while he was an infant.
He was a good athlete, a three-sport star in football, basketball, and track. By the time he was a junior in high school, Evans knew he wanted to coach. “I had one of those career meetings with the guidance counselor at the end of my junior year and I said, ‘I want to be a coach.’ She looked at me and said, ‘But what do you want to do for a living?’ ”
He went to Ithaca College and became a dean’s list student when an ankle injury forced him to give up all sports but track. After graduation, he married his high school sweetheart and became a successful high school coach. During his second year as a coach, late in the season, he was called up to active duty by the National Guard.
His team was undefeated. Only six games were left to play. Evans didn’t mind being called up but not
now
. There was only one solution—or so he thought. He and a friend went into the weight room and, while Evans closed his eyes, his friend brought the full force of one of the weights down on Evans’s arm. They raced to the hospital for X rays. The nurse came out with a smile on her face. “Good news, Mr. Evans,” she said. “There’s no sign of a break. You should be all right in a few days.”
Evans didn’t bother trying to break the arm again. The unbroken one hurt too much.
He moved into college coaching as a freshman coach at Geneseo before getting the job at St. Lawrence, as much because he had coached some football and taught some math as anything. He was a big winner at St. Lawrence on the Division 2 level but wondered when he would get a shot at a Division 1 job. In 1979, he interviewed for the Dartmouth job but lost out to Tim Cohane. That annoyed him since he had beaten Cohane in the Division 2 playoffs two years in a row.
The following year, the Cornell job became available. The athletic director was Dick Schultz, now the executive director of the NCAA. Schultz interviewed Evans at length and told him he would be in touch. Evans finished a 22–5 season that Saturday with an easy victory over his alma mater, Ithaca, but was disappointed that Schultz wasn’t at the game.
The next day Schultz called. He was sorry but because of public relations he had decided to hire a Bob Knight assistant, Tom Miller. Evans was crushed. “I was thirty-four and I had decided a few years earlier that if I didn’t have a Division One job by the time I was thirty-five I was going to get out,” he said. “I just didn’t want to spend the rest of my life driving a bus.”
Four days after telling him he couldn’t hire him at Cornell, Schultz called Evans back. Would he be interested in the Navy job? Navy Athletic Director J. O. (Bo) Coppedge had called Schultz looking for names. Schultz had mentioned Evans.
Evans was thrilled. He never stopped to think about Navy’s complete lack of basketball tradition; about the height restrictions; about the five-year service commitment required of all graduates. “I was too stupid to know I couldn’t do it there,” he said, smiling. “I figured Knight had gotten it done at Army, why couldn’t I do it at Navy?”
It wasn’t easy. Evans’s first two teams were 9–17 and 12–14. He was criticized for trying to play an up-tempo game at a school clearly not fit to play up-tempo basketball. But Evans was putting the pieces together. His third team set an Academy record for victories by going 18–8. Evans was shocked when the NIT never noticed his team and no other schools noticed his victory total.
The next year the record was 24–8 with a freshman named Robinson averaging six points a game. Still no NIT bid and no job offers. Thenext year, when Robinson blossomed, the Midshipmen were 26–6. They reached the NCAA Tournament, stunned LSU in the first round, and had Maryland down 11
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