Pitino Drinks In the Successful Formula

EAST RUTHERFORD, N.J. Not until a sliver of time was left, threefractions of a second, did he release 20 years of pressure and painand waiting. When he finally did, Rick Pitino let it pour all nightlong. He hugged his assistants like teddy bears. He flashed a grinto his boyhood home in Queens. He grasped each of his players andwouldn't let go.

He even leaned over to Antoine Walker, who has brought a titlering to Chicago, and spilled extraordinary emotions. "Watching yougrow and mature so much over the last year," he said to the formerwild child from Mount Carmel, "is the most special moment of mylife." Yes, his life.

That is, until he saw his wife coming out of the stands.Joanne has suffered and sacrificed in a way only a coach's wife wouldunderstand. The curious symmetry of this championship game was thattwo decades ago this Wednesday, her man was downstairs in the hotellobby on their wedding night, negotating a contract with JimBoeheim, the man he faced on the other sideline. She has sold housesand moved and cried.But now, at last, they had won. The Pitinos had won theirfirst championship, first of many. "It has been so difficult forher," he said. "I kept telling her through the years, `It'll happen.Someday, it'll happen.' Now that it has, she's so happy." When hebrought her over for the TV interview with Billy Packer, Joanne'seyes gleamed.Monday night, one of the best coaches in basketball won hisholy grail. Monday night, Kentucky won the national title for thefirst time since 1978, satisfying the demanding thirst of a slightlywacko state. "Our fans are kind of like those of the Green BayPackers," Pitino said. "We belong to the state, and this is forthem." The coach with the New Yawk accent and the bluegrass headssatisfied their obsessions together, back on Pitino's home turf. Itwas a sweet, delightful scene.But it wasn't an easy night. Contrary to predictions the worldover, Kentucky didn't blow out Syracuse. The final was 76-67, andnot until the final 66 seconds, when the great John Wallace fouledout after scoring 29 points for the Orangemen, could Pitino finallysense he was going to win. The school band played "My Old KentuckyHome," but it was played with a sigh of relief, everyone knowing theWildcats survived the game more than they dominated it.With Boeheim's team showing so much heart, a Kentucky team thatdoesn't allow egos suddenly needed one. A wondrous team of cohesiverole players urgently needed someone to play Pop-A-Shot, like abarfly with a beer and a pocket full of quarters. Over the tentaclesof Syracuse's 2-3 zone, shots had to be launched and buried.Tony Delk was open, repeatedly. So they got him the ball andhe shot and he shined, hitting 7 of 12 three-pointers to tie atitle-game record. He didn't want to be a gunner, knowing the Pitinocredo of unselfishness. "You have to be humble on this team," saidDelk, the senior. "There are just too many great players to keep youhonest. You don't have time to be a celebrity."You do now. Delk is a celebrity in the Commonwealth for lifeafter his 24-point performance. The seven three-pointers tied SteveAlford's mark in 1987. That also came against Syracuse, which thepundits surely will note. But don't blame Boeheim. His teamoverachieved like few have in recent years, taking a superteam to thebrink. We would have loved to see Kentucky play a North Carolinateam with Jerry Stackhouse and Rasheed Wallace. But maybe UKwouldn't have won, shooting worse Monday than any title team sinceLoyola back in 1963.The Syracuse players swaggered into the arena, strutting whenall the basketball nation was yawning and expecting a bloodletting.From the start, it was apparent they weren't going to roll over.When they raced back from an early deficit to take a lead, thedevilish Wallace, doing his Oscar Meyer wiener bit, flashed a nastygrin at the Syracuse fans and stuck out his tongue.But even he wasn't enough to overcome the Wildcats, who areyoung enough to return to the Final Four again. With Walker, whosays he'll resist the NBA for at least another year, this could be amini-dynasty in the works. That's the last thing the coach wants tohear, naturally.As much as Pitino denied it, the pressure on him here wasstifling. As much as he scolded media people for writing about it,he had to win this time to avoid a Dean Smith, can't-win-the-big-onestigma. He even made mention of having more books than rings. "Twobooks and no title. I want to tell you something. I didn't writethose books because I had something to say, OK? I did it for themoney. I've got some kids whose college I want to pay for," he said.There was the pressure of trying to win a championship in NewYork, his hometown and former coaching workplace. There was thepressure of facing his protege, John Calipari. There was thepressure of his inner demons, the obsession with winning that Walkerdescribed as "the most intensity I've ever seen in a person." And,of course, there was the pressure of Kentucky fanaticism.But Rick Pitino wasn't going to lose, despite his team's unevenshowing. He isn't Guy Lewis. He isn't Billy Tubbs. He didn't haveFred Brown throwing the ball away. He had himself and his wife. Inbasketball and life, the formula usually works.Jay Mariotti's column appears Sunday, Monday, Tuesday andThursday.