Coaches once got a real kick out of the job

ACC coaches renowned for antics as well as victories

In the midst of a stressful basketball season, Duke's Mike Krzyzewski, North Carolina's Roy Williams and N.C. State's Sidney Lowe occasionally reveal their sense of humor, toss out a few quips, inject a little levity.

But in this must-win era, with its multimedia scrutiny, fan bloggers and instant information, it's more important for coaches to measure their words, guard their space and shield their teams than to get a laugh.

It was not always this way. There was a time when coaches -- such as Wake Forest's Bones McKinney, who once coached wearing a seat belt; N.C. State's Jim Valvano, who amused crowds with his wisecracks; and Maryland's Lefty Driesell, who could shake the rafters with a stomp of his foot -- spiced their championships with showmanship.

Nowadays, most coaches would settle for just championships.

"There's so much more pressure to win than years ago," said Dave Odom, who coached at Wake Forest and now at South Carolina.

"They want you to get to the [NCAA] tournament yesterday. It has had a tendency to sedate coaches, cause them to be less open and flamboyant."

Odom said he believes rule changes, such as the bench decorum policy, also have "taken personality out of the game."

Wake Forest coach Dino Gaudio says the media scrutiny, with the internet and fan blogging, has created a tougher atmosphere.

"Everything you do and say is captured on TV, in the media,'' Gaudio said. "So, many coaches are a little more conservative, in what they do ... say, how they behave. Little things can be blown up and so misinterpreted."

Make a zany move or flippant reply these days and you're on YouTube quicker than anybody can say "Bones."

Yet would today's climate have restrained the uninhibited Horace "Bones" McKinney?

Would it have calmed the foot-stomping Charles "Lefty" Driesell, a Duke graduate who coached at Davidson and built a top-10 program at Maryland, where he boldly proclaimed the Terps could become "The UCLA of the East?"

Or would it have muted other colorful coaches, like Norm Sloan (N.C. State), Billy Lee (St. Andrews), Bob Burke (Chowan), and Harvey Heartley (St. Augustine's)?

"There will never be [another] era that had as many coaching characters, so to speak," said Charlie Bryant, a former Wake Forest and N.C. State assistant.

No bones about it

McKinney, who played at State, North Carolina and in the NBA, was 6-foot-6 and mostly arms and legs. He also was an ordained Baptist minister who danced around the sidelines before dancing was allowed at Wake -- a Baptist school.

McKinney once grabbed a ball out of bounds and passed it to a Wake player for a quick basket. It might be the only "assist" ever by an ACC coach.

Fans reveled in McKinney's antics and storytelling, and as former Wake Forest All-America Jack Murdock said, "you never knew what might happen next."

In the book, "Bones" by Garland Atkins, guard Frank Christie remembered calling a timeout when the Deacons were getting routed by St. Joseph's.

"We ran to the bench to get instructions from Bones,'' Christie said. "We looked around and he wasn't there. He was sitting in the stands eating popcorn."

McKinney, who died in 1997 at the age of 78, wasn't just a funny Bones. He was a renowned coach of big men who led Wake to two ACC Tournament titles (1961 and 1962) and the school's only Final Four appearance (1962). He also suffered through losses as if having surgery without anesthesia.

After one defeat, he told about arriving home and getting a "who won?" greeting from his son Kenneth.

"We lost by 30," Bones answered.