HOUSTON-Butler’s Final Four public practice almost done inside Reliant Stadium Friday afternoon, CBS broadcaster Jim Nantz turned to Bulldogs coach Brad Stevens and said, “A lot of us in the media have decided you’re America’s Team.”
Flashing a wide smile, Stevens replied, “That’s a really neat thing. We’ll certainly take all the fans we can get.”
Butler fans are multiplying like dandelions these days. The little team that almost could a year ago is stunningly back to finish the job this time, beginning with tonight’s opening semifinal game against fellow Cinder-fella Virginia Commonwealth.
“Two years prior to last year’s Final Four run our website had 3.5 million hits a year,” said the coach. “Last year we had 111 million hits on our website. Who knows what the impact [this year] will be. The positive attention it brings to your school and city is immeasurable.”
The coach isn’t hurting, either. Stevens’ name is on the lips of almost everyone in college basketball, be they commentators, athletic directors or opposing coaches.
Heck, Connecticut coach Jim Calhoun – who wouldn’t even face Butler until Monday’s final should both the Bulldogs and Huskies win their semifinals – said of Boyish Brad: “[He] handles everything that’s happened around him better than any guy I’ve ever seen. I had a chance to speak to him in Washington and he’s a superstar. He’s special.”
Here’s how special: In a sport known for coaching tirades – think Bob Knight’s tossed chair and former Temple boss John Chaney’s threat to kill Kentucky coach John Calipari when Cal coached at UMass – Stevens often appears to be barely breathing.
When someone asked Butler senior center Matt Howard if ther 34-year-old Stevens had ever “freaked out” during a practice or game, Howard said, “I guess it depends on how you define ‘freak out.’
“A freak out for him would be fairly light. But I think it’s been really helpful to our team. It doesn’t matter what stretch your team’s going through, you look over and he’s moved on to the next play. I’ve never once seen any look of panic or heard a ‘we’re in trouble’ talk from him. I think that’s really important.”
Maybe he’ll fool us one day. Nobody’s perfect. Stevens may sound all sweet and nice and honorable when he says, “At the end of the day what you achieve in your job doesn’t validate you … It’s how you’re perceived by your family and friends and the kids on the team and what they get out of it beyond the wins and the losses … At times this business can be a little out of perspective.”
But he’s also a husband and father who wants to provide the best life possible for his family.
“It’s flattering,” he said of the rumored interest of some programs. “It’s funny, too, because my cell phone hasn’t rung; my cell phone is not ringing. But when those things happen, there’s a lot of uncertainty, and it’s unsettling, to be real honest.”
Yet this is what has passed for unsettling over the past few weeks for Stevens as the Bulldogs have won 13 straight: He’s had to break in a stylish new pair of glasses, where last year he wore contacts.
“They’re Nautica,” he said when asked about them on Friday, “and, no, nobody has requested [to get some just like his]. I just found out that I’m a better coach when I can see than when I can’t.”
Too many people see Butler’s sizzle rather than its steak, the Bulldogs’ mid-major label overwhelming its high-major productivity. Reaching one Final Four might be a fluke. Reaching two straight is validation you can hold your own against anyone.
“We’re not where we are because of dollars spent on practice facilities or those types of things,” said Stevens. “We’re where we are because we have unbelievable people. People are greater resources than any amount of dollars.”
Especially when the person running your basketball program is Brad Stevens.