U's Tubby Smith: Settling in, but hardly settling

It is known as "The Tubby Stare" within the college basketball community -- an intense glare that says, with no words needed, that Tubby Smith is not happy with what he's watching.

A week ago, late in a one-sided exhibition victory over Minnesota State Mankato, sophomore Kevin Payton tossed an alley-oop to senior Lawrence McKenzie on a fast break. McKenzie bricked the dunk.

The 56-year-old coach sitting atop a chair on the elevated Williams Arena court delivered his well-known stare.

The wonder within college basketball is that "The Tubby Stare" is being cast this season toward Gophers players. Smith is one of the biggest names in the college game, winner of at least 20 games the past 14 seasons at Tulsa, Georgia and then Kentucky. He won a national title at Kentucky in 1998 and has directed nine teams to the Sweet 16.

The Gophers have fallen on hard times since Clem Haskins' tenure as coach ended in a massive academic fraud scandal in the late 1990s. Minnesota has made one NCAA tournament appearance since 1999 and is coming off a disastrous 9-22 season.

But a program needing a change found a coach who had tired of the lofty expectations of Kentucky. Smith has embraced his newest challenge, saying he is confident he can return the Gophers to national prominence.

"It's been a long time, but they're capable," he said about the Gophers' past success and potential. "It's another chance for me to kind of [judge] myself and our program ... against great programs in the Big Ten and other good coaches in the Big Ten."

So, just who is Tubby Smith?

Friends, former players and family members describe him as a charitable, funny and caring person who still abides by the principles he learned as one of 17 children born to a Maryland sharecropper. Many of those principles apply to what he teaches young men on the basketball court.

Those who know Smith best agree that he's an intense and fiery teacher who will not settle for mediocrity.

Intensity demanded

Steve Hawkins, a friend of Smith since childhood, said the coach earned everything he achieved through hard work learned while growing up in Scotland, Md., and he expects the same of others. To learn the game of basketball, Smith had to hitchhike 12 miles to high school basketball practice during Maryland's winters. When he was back at home, he battled with his buddies on a dirt court with a wooden basket tied to a tree.

"Tubby was an excellent competitor, all the way through," he said. "We competed in everything. And we competed even from sports to dressing to dancing. He wanted to win everything."

That tenacity is still evident in the way he coaches. A few weeks ago at a rare open scrimmage, Smith walked up and down the court passionately demanding tougher defense from his players. When he wasn't satisfied, everyone ran.

That's the norm in Gophers practices. No walking, no yawning. Everything has to be at full speed, full intensity.

That will not surprise Smith's former players. Barry Manning, who played at South Carolina while Smith was an assistant coach there, said Smith frequently challenged players who weren't playing defense properly by jumping onto the court and demonstrating. That South Carolina team became one of the toughest defensively in the country.

There were times, however, when the demands were too much. After one defeat, Smith decided to make players squat in a defensive stance for nearly 20 minutes. One by one, they began cramping up before then-Gamecocks head coach George Felton asked Smith to stop the drill, Manning said.

"And coach Felton had to come there and grab him; [Smith] was just standing there just screaming," Manning said. "He always wanted our best, 100 percent. Don't step out on that court if you're not going to give 100 percent."

Jon Nordin, a forward for Smith when he was the head coach at Georgia, recalled a pregame walkthrough that rivaled a Bulldogs football game. Smith grabbed a tackling dummy and bumped the team's big men so hard that tempers flared.

"I think Tubby has mellowed and learned how to break kids down and build them back up," Nordin said.

More than basketball

The demand for intensity has always been mixed with a deeper message: Players need more than basketball. At Kentucky, Smith kept a worn-out Bible on his desk and posted Proverbs 27:17 in the locker room, which read: "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend."

Former Kentucky guard Cameron Mills said that verse spoke to Smith's knack for developing strong relationships and showing them that he cares.

During his first player meeting at Kentucky, Smith walked into the room and introduced himself to every player, parent and girlfriend, Mills said.

"I would say my relationship with him is similar to most of his players if not all of his players: very father-son," Mills said. "You play hard for him because you respect him and love him."

Manning said the work ethic demanded by Smith helped prepare him for life after basketball. He said Smith became a father figure for a lot of players.

Smith said his philosophy on coaching is rooted in his childhood, when his family welcomed charity and support from others, and gave out the same when they had the opportunity.

"A lot of people helped us," he said. "We couldn't make it on our own. It takes a village, and it really does ... You realize after a while that it's not about the money. It's never been about the money. It's all about how can I make others improve themselves."

Helping kids

Smith has become almost as synonymous with charitable work as with winning basketball. The Tubby Smith Foundation has donated more than $2.3 million to more than 100 organizations over the past nine years. A part of the foundation, with the help of Dell, as taught more than 600 kids in Lexington, Ky., how to dismantle and assemble computers they get to take home once they have completed a 40-hour course.

"These are kids from homes where they probably did not have a computer in the home," said P.G. Peeples, head of Lexington's Urban League. "That helps bridge that digital divide between the haves and have-nots regarding technology."

Smith said he wants to bring some of the same programs to his new home here.

"And people will want to be a part of our foundation and share with others and close the gap between the haves and have-nots," he said. "And close the gap between races ... I think in sports you can't find a better venue or a better platform to get that done, to bring so many people together. Now that's a unique thing about sports."

Smith's family members -- wife, Donna, and three sons, G.G., Saul and Brian -- say he practices what he preaches.

Saul, an assistant coach with the Gophers, and Brian, a guard at Mississippi, asked their father to join them in a shootaround at Williams Arena over the summer. When Tubby Smith was more than 30 minutes late, Donna Smith walked in and told her sons that their father needed help. The coach had stopped to help a university employee change her tire.

"That's the kind of guy he is," Saul said. "That's the way he was raised, to help people."

Keeping perspective

Van Florence, a Kentucky basketball booster and friend, helped Smith start the Tubby Smith Foundation in Lexington. Florence became ill in 2002 and had to stop traveling with the team, something he had done for 30 years. He missed 20 games that season. But his doctor allowed him to travel to the 2003 postseason tournaments.

Florence congratulated Smith on the plane home immediately following the Wildcats' 83-69 loss to Marquette in the NCAA tournament at the Metrodome, a loss that shattered their 26-game winning streak. Past Kentucky coaches would have "handed your head to you on a platter" if they were approached after such a tough loss, he said.

Florence tapped Smith on the shoulder and congratulated him for the successful season.

"He looked at me and he said, 'Van, that's just a ballgame,'" Florence said. "'What's important is that you're getting healthy, you're back traveling with us. You and I are going to be friends forever, and we have a lot more ballgames to win.'"

Still spreading the news

A month ago, Gophers players and coaches handed out dinners to families as part of a charity event with the Minneapolis Urban League outside of Williams Arena. At the end of the day, an elderly man walked up to him and shook his hand before asking him: "Who are you?"

Smith, somewhat surprised, replied: "Tubby Smith, the basketball coach."

Welcome to Minnesota, coach.

At Kentucky, 23,000 fans showed up for practice a few weeks ago. But with four major pro teams in the Twin Cities, the Gophers have to compete for publicity by winning.

Smith said he's still adjusting to the transition. At a recent public appearance in Minnesota, Smith referred to himself as Kentucky's coach a few times. The Gophers fans who attended jokingly booed.

"I keep catching myself saying Blue and Kentucky," he said. "I apologize; it was 10 years."

Smith realizes he has to become the face of the program to accomplish the goal of restoring Minnesota to national prominence. And he realizes the inherent pressure of being the face of a major program and also being a black man.

At Kentucky he was the first black man to become head coach at a school that once barred black students from attending. At Minnesota, he is the second black men's basketball head coach, following Haskins, his friend and the man who recommended he take the Gophers job.

He knows the demands at Minnesota are twofold: to win, and to win the right way.

"Whenever you're the first, there comes that responsibility ... to do things the right way," he said. "I think that because you know that ... [there] is that subtle pressure because you're representing not just a university but a lot of people that are looking up to you because you are black, because you are a minority. But with that carries a tremendous responsibility. But I've had a lot of practice at it."

Myron P. Medcalf • mmedcalf@startribune.com