“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes “Awww!”
—Jack Kerouac
If there was a quote that captured Jerry Tarkanian and the world he created in Las Vegas, it’s this line from Kerouac’s On the Road.
A lot has been written about Tarkanian, who died Monday at age 84.
ESPN’s Ian O’Connor words stand out: “As card-carrying mavericks go, Jerry Tarkanian was George Steinbrenner times Al Davis. He would never bow before the establishment or those he felt were protected by its double standards, John Wooden included.”
Yes, indeed.
Tarkanian was an innovator, a showman and a renegade. The loyalty he engendered was genuine and well-earned. Tarkanian’s players knew that Coach had their backs—and he would do whatever he possibly could to help them succeed on and off the court.
Tark understood long ago that coaching college basketball was so much more than X and O’s. Tark realized there was great value in fighting for his players. It was about getting young people to do things they maybe didn’t want to: Work hard, go to class, stay out of trouble. It’s easy to cite Dean Smith’s 97% graduation rate for his former players and make the case for his greatness beyond the game. For Tarkanian, it is harder to quantify his contributions because his graduation rates did not quite stack up to the greats. But, Tark’s mission was not to take kids born on first or even 3rd base and help them get home. He was about taking some guys who no one else give would another shot and saying, here you go, make the most of it. There were a lot of success stories.
I love this one about Chris Jeter, whom Tarkanian brought to UNLV after he was declared academic ineligible at Missouri. He played on the Rebels Final Four teams in 1990 and 1991, becomes a police officer and raises a basketball son who signs with Duke. The American Dream, folks.
Tark had many detractors, especially those who supported the NCAA and its rules and practices. But look at whose ideas won out. It’s 2015 and many of the things Tarkanian advocated for and eventually reached to Supreme Court are finally coming to fruition. Amateurism, enforcement and athlete benefits—all once sacrosanct in the NCAA’s eyes—are now being gutted.
In 1998, right after the NCAA settled its case with Tarkanian by paying him $2.5 million, Tarkanian reflected on his battle. “I just hope people will now realize that the accusations against me, 25 years worth of them, were unfounded and without evidence. I learned you never want to fight an organization that powerful. They control the press. They spend more money on public relations in one month than I make in a lifetime. “For me, that was a real tough battle. That was really hell. It was difficult, them harassing me and my players. But my situation helped bring a lot of light to a lot of problems. It brought a lot of reform.”
Can you imagine if an NCAA official called someone today said such a derogatory slur? Yet, David Berst still works at the NCAA—in upper management. In 2012, he was paid $468,000. Some things never change.
After Tarkanian’s passing, I spoke to Mark Warkentien, who was a longtime Tarkanian assistant at UNLV and who then went on to great success as an NBA executive. Below is Tarkanian through Warkentien’s eyes.
On Tarkanian’s battle with the NCAA
Tarkanian made the NC-two-A a tighter ship all by himself. When no one else would dare say anything about how unfair its rules were, he talked, he argued he fought. He’d say, ‘This is wrong. We can’t have players worrying paying for meals, going home for Christmas.’ Here’s how I sum Jerry’s fight against the NCAA: Everything Jerry talked about in the 60s and 70s—the things that in trouble with the NCAA—is now referred to as full cost of attendance. Fancy words to describe something Jerry was calling for long before the NCAA was close to billion-dollar machine. But for 40 years, he was a renegade coach because he believed college basketball players deserved to have their basic needs met. He was also the only person who was talking about the NCAA’s enforcement procedures and how unjust they were. Again, remember, back then he was the only person who had the courage to take on the NCAA.
On Jerry’s mandate for his program
Jerry had one rule: Make sure our players have everything they need. Now, what they need and what they want are two different things. They may want to drive a nice car. They need to be home at Christmas. Jerry would talk about “3 hours, 21 hours.” For three hours at practice, they owed us their very best. They were all the same. We all worked toward the same goal—become better as players and as a team. For the other 21 hours, they were all different, with different needs and different problems. Our job was to give our players the support they needed, work with them to make good decisions and do whatever we possibly could to keep them on the right path.
On Jerry and education
Jerry’s impact on those who played for him, coached under him or counted on him as a friend is enormous. We’re all better because of his coaching, mentorship and loyalty. I don’t understand how the NCAA calculates graduation rates or the APR, but I do know that the vast majority of guys who played for Coach Tarkanian have gone on to become productive members of society. Jerry brought in many guys who, if not for him, would likely now be living off the taxpayers. They are now taxpayers. They now have children who are the beneficiaries of Tark’s impact. I know the values Jerry taught on the court—and off—have played huge roles in the success of his former players. Did we do well in the classroom in the NCAA’s eyes? No. But I know Jerry was a real educator, whether people want to give him credit or not is their business.
