before losing in the second round. Now people noticed Navy—and Evans. California called. So did Old Dominion. And Rutgers. He was even interviewed for the prestigious Kentucky job.
None of those jobs felt right, though, so Evans stayed where he was. The next year the record was 30–5. Robinson was a superstar. The Midshipmen beat Tulsa, Syracuse (at Syracuse), and Cleveland State in the NCAA Tournament before losing to Duke in the regional final. Evans couldn’t keep track of the job offers: Southern California, Houston, Northwestern, Pittsburgh.
He knew his time was up at Navy even though Robinson had one more year. He wanted his top assistant, Pete Herrmann, to succeed him, but he didn’t want to leave Herrmann with a bad team. And, he didn’t want to leave at the same time as Robinson and be perceived as riding Robinson’s coattails. Pittsburgh was the best job. There were good, though undisciplined players there and it was in the Big East.
There were also rumors that Pitt was about to get nailed by the NCAA. That was alleged to be part of the reason why Roy Chipman had resigned early in the season. But Pitt’s people told Evans they were clean. Evans took them at their word, and it turned out to be the right decision—the NCAA posse never did come to town.
Evans made it clear from day one to the experienced Pitt players that their lives would be simple: my way or the highway. When Lane talked back to him, he got tossed from practice. When someone messed up, everyone ran. The players responded to what Evans was telling them.
“It really wasn’t that hard to get their attention,” he said. “The year before they had done it their way and they stunk. They had to be willing to give my way a chance.”
Not that all was bliss. Evans’s hard-nosed manner angered the players at times. They thought he was unfair. He thought they were too wild. He told them to avoid parties, they went to parties. He responded by lengthening practice. In all, though, the marriage worked—to the tune of twenty-four victories. And yet, Evans finished the season less than happy with his team.
“Once we won twenty games and clinched a share of the Big East title we didn’t have another good practice the whole season,” Evans said. “That’s the problem with the older guys on this team. They’resatisfied too easily. We have to get away from that this year if we’re going to be any good.”
Evans had told his team in no uncertain terms it was too easily satisfied. Bluntness is a policy with him. It was that bluntness that had gotten him into a shouting match with Massimino at the Big East meetings that spring.
The league had wanted to pass an unwritten rule that it believed would prevent repeats of the Bobby Martin incident. The rule would hold that if one league school had a verbal commitment from a player the other league schools would stop recruiting him. Massimino balked.
“I’ve been the nice guy too many years,” he said in the meeting. “I’m tired of being pushed around by people because I try to do things the right way and they don’t.”
Evans, knowing Massimino was referring to him, shot back, “Rollie, don’t blame me because you screwed up your recruiting.”
After that, it got unpleasant. Now, the season was about to start. Evans had a team with high expectations and Massimino had a team with low expectations. Before the year was over, they would meet—and clash—again.
Six days after the Big East Media Day, most of the top high school seniors in America began signing national letters of intent. Villanova signed two good players that day and received a verbal commitment from a third. Pittsburgh, in the running for three top players, struck out: zero for three. Ohio State signed four—the four it wanted.
Chris Jent opted for the Buckeyes over Pittsburgh. Bill Robinson signed as did Mark Baker and Jeff Hall. Eric Riley, with seven days left during the signing period, was still undecided. Williams
None of those jobs felt right, though, so Evans stayed where he was. The next year the record was 30–5. Robinson was a superstar. The Midshipmen beat Tulsa, Syracuse (at Syracuse), and Cleveland State in the NCAA Tournament before losing to Duke in the regional final. Evans couldn’t keep track of the job offers: Southern California, Houston, Northwestern, Pittsburgh.
He knew his time was up at Navy even though Robinson had one more year. He wanted his top assistant, Pete Herrmann, to succeed him, but he didn’t want to leave Herrmann with a bad team. And, he didn’t want to leave at the same time as Robinson and be perceived as riding Robinson’s coattails. Pittsburgh was the best job. There were good, though undisciplined players there and it was in the Big East.
There were also rumors that Pitt was about to get nailed by the NCAA. That was alleged to be part of the reason why Roy Chipman had resigned early in the season. But Pitt’s people told Evans they were clean. Evans took them at their word, and it turned out to be the right decision—the NCAA posse never did come to town.
Evans made it clear from day one to the experienced Pitt players that their lives would be simple: my way or the highway. When Lane talked back to him, he got tossed from practice. When someone messed up, everyone ran. The players responded to what Evans was telling them.
“It really wasn’t that hard to get their attention,” he said. “The year before they had done it their way and they stunk. They had to be willing to give my way a chance.”
Not that all was bliss. Evans’s hard-nosed manner angered the players at times. They thought he was unfair. He thought they were too wild. He told them to avoid parties, they went to parties. He responded by lengthening practice. In all, though, the marriage worked—to the tune of twenty-four victories. And yet, Evans finished the season less than happy with his team.
“Once we won twenty games and clinched a share of the Big East title we didn’t have another good practice the whole season,” Evans said. “That’s the problem with the older guys on this team. They’resatisfied too easily. We have to get away from that this year if we’re going to be any good.”
Evans had told his team in no uncertain terms it was too easily satisfied. Bluntness is a policy with him. It was that bluntness that had gotten him into a shouting match with Massimino at the Big East meetings that spring.
The league had wanted to pass an unwritten rule that it believed would prevent repeats of the Bobby Martin incident. The rule would hold that if one league school had a verbal commitment from a player the other league schools would stop recruiting him. Massimino balked.
“I’ve been the nice guy too many years,” he said in the meeting. “I’m tired of being pushed around by people because I try to do things the right way and they don’t.”
Evans, knowing Massimino was referring to him, shot back, “Rollie, don’t blame me because you screwed up your recruiting.”
After that, it got unpleasant. Now, the season was about to start. Evans had a team with high expectations and Massimino had a team with low expectations. Before the year was over, they would meet—and clash—again.
Six days after the Big East Media Day, most of the top high school seniors in America began signing national letters of intent. Villanova signed two good players that day and received a verbal commitment from a third. Pittsburgh, in the running for three top players, struck out: zero for three. Ohio State signed four—the four it wanted.
Chris Jent opted for the Buckeyes over Pittsburgh. Bill Robinson signed as did Mark Baker and Jeff Hall. Eric Riley, with seven days left during the signing period, was still undecided. Williams
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